his hold on her shoulders, his jaw clenched. She was right, but the veiled threat gnawed at him. The worst was he’d feel the same if she were the one with secrets and he was being cut out. After time, Gunner knew he’d walk, find a woman who could share all of herself with him.
The thought gave him no comfort.
“Everyone have their routes clear?” Ghost looked at the men, seeing each nod.
They’d be leaving in three groups, each assigned to deliver one of the Snowdens to work or school. Gunner and Banner would be with Katrina. Fargo and Chaos with Teri, and Bas and Boomer with Brady. Cowboy and Ghost would stay behind to keep watch on the safe house.
Two days had passed since moving into the safe house. There’d been no attempt to breach the defenses. The lack of action made it clear Ricca planned to snatch one of them during the point of heightened vulnerability—escorting the targets away from the safe house.
“All right. You’ve got your schedules.” Ghost signaled them to head out.
Brady was the first to leave, climbing into the back seat of Bas’s truck. Boomer loaded himself into the passenger seat after a quick check of the area. Using a little used back drive, they entered the street behind the house, taking a winding road until it dumped into the highway.
Teri would be leaving within minutes after Brady, with Katrina last in Gunner’s truck. Since those two would be staying at the nursery, Banner would follow in his truck.
“Don’t you guys think this is overkill?” Brady stretched out in the back seat, bored with the entire misadventure. Bas and Boomer would be picking him up for his after-school job. It all seemed over the top.
“You’re being stalked by some really bad people, kid,” Bas replied. “If you knew what they’re capable of, you wouldn’t think it overkill.”
“They shot at my sister and Gabe. That’s pretty serious.”
“Yeah, it is.” Bas kept his head moving, watching every vehicle, the same as Boomer. The sedan was nowhere in sight. He turned onto a side street with few homes and no traffic. Three more minutes and they’d be at school.
Frustrated with the circumstances, his lack of freedom, Brady blew out a sigh. “I have to be at work—”
The truck slammed sideways, throwing Brady across the seat to the sound of crunching metal.
“Sonofabitch.” Bas wrenched the steering wheel to the right, trying to stop it from plowing into a parked car.
Another vehicle crashed into them from the back, causing the truck to spin. Another hit from the side, forcing the truck into a roll. They continued to roll side-over-side, slamming into and over a short brick wall before careening down a five yard drop-off, to crash against the trunk of a decades old sycamore.
“Sonofa…” Bas’s voice trailed off at the feel of something wet trickling down his face. Touching the oozing liquid, he winced at the sticky feel of blood. Swiping it from his eyes, he blinked several times, looking around at the same time approaching sirens pulled him back to the reason for his pain.
His entire body hurt. Then he remembered. More than one vehicle had rammed his truck, forcing them off the road. Them.
Panic surged through him. Leveraging up on one arm, his frantic gaze took in the twisted metal.
“Boomer.” He meant it as a shout. Instead, his teammate’s name croaked out of a dry throat. Forcing calm, he twisted enough to see what had been the back seat.
“Brady!” This one came out stronger, louder.
Instead of allowing himself to fall back down, he forced his aching body to crawl forward toward the open window. Almost reaching his goal, a face stared back at him.
“Sir. Don’t go any farther. Let us get you out so there’s no additional damage.”
“Boomer and Brady. Are they all right?”
The young man shifted to glance behind him. “We have one other injured man who was thrown from the vehicle.”
“Two. There should be two.” Bas forced himself to focus, his breaths coming in short gasps. “A man about my age and a boy of fourteen.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We need to get you out of the wreckage.”
“No,” he croaked out with his last ounce of strength. “The boy. You have to find the boy…”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brady awakened to his chin resting on his chest. His head pounded, arms ached from being secured behind him. He fought to stay conscious, without letting those in the room know he’d woken to the sound of their voices.
Without hearing names, he knew