The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(102)

“If I take that out of your arm you will bleed out.”

“If you don’t then I’m useless and there are over two dozen people trapped in those flames that need us,” he protests through gritted teeth. “Pull the metal out of my arm, Reese’s.”

My hands trembled as they move toward his arm.

“Do it,” he shouts.

I shake my head, glancing around then back at him and the red tie that hangs loosely around his neck covered in ash.

“Do it!” he repeats.

I loosen the knot, pulling the tie from his neck before I stand and close my eyes. Forcing myself to stay calm I close my hands over the metal.

“On three,” I say. “One. Two.”

“Three,” he grunts.

He curses as the metal slides out of his body, slowly torturing him until I drop it to the ground and quickly wrap his silk tie around the wound. It instantly becomes soaked with his blood but I continue to wrap it, pulling it tight with all my might before double knotting it and praying it controls the bleeding.

“I’m sorry,” I cry watching his face contort with pain. He takes a deep breath and grabs my hand, slowly hoisting himself up until he stands on unsteady legs. He drops a kiss on my forehead before fixing his eyes to mine.

“Don’t leave my side,” he orders.

“I won’t,” I say, rubbing the ache beneath my breastbone.

We walk through the smoke, bypassing the flames crawling around parts of the ground. It was hard to decipher what was the parking lot and what in fact were the remains of the clubhouse.

“Hello!” Anthony calls into the devastation. “Call out if you can hear me.”

“Nikki!” I shout. “Mike!”

Nothing.

“Bianci, you bastard, I’ve never been so happy to hear your voice.”

“Pipe?” Anthony questions.

“Aye,” he replies.

“Keep talking,” my husband instructs Pipe. I stay close behind him as he follows the sound of Pipe’s voice but the arch of my foot pulses, forcing me to stop. Balancing my weight onto one foot, I turn around and spot a body face down on the floor. I glance over my shoulder, making sure that Anthony wasn’t too far behind me before I start toward the body.

I freeze when he crawls across the debris.

“Hey,” I call out, unable to make out who it is but my voice is mute to him. He’s crawling straight toward the fire with no regard. “Hey,” I shout again but he continues to ignore me.

Taking the few steps remaining between us, I bend down and grab a hold of his shoulder.

Big fucking mistake.

His hand closes around my wrist and snaps it back as he rolls over onto his back and glares up at me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he sneers. The pain vibrates through my whole body and blurs my vision as he snaps my wrist before releasing it. “Johnson! Rogers! Diaz!”

I blink through the pain, push my eyes to focus and take in the man before me. His eyes are blank as he continues to search frantically for the three names he calls over and over again. I think he’s in shock and for a moment I remember what it feels like. I remember pulling the trigger on my sister’s boyfriend and losing my bearings. I glance down at his cut, squinting to try to and make out the name sewn to the leather.

“Stryker,” I say, dragging his attention back to me. “Stryker, it's okay we’ll find them,” I plead, trying to soothe him.

“They were fifty yards out where the Afghan post is,” he rambles.

I’m about to answer, talk him through it when I close my eyes as the pain shoots through my wrist sending tingling sensations up my arm.

Adrianna!”

“Over here,” I whimper, tears filling my eyes. I blink through them and find Stryker staring back at me shaking his head as if he wishes he can erase what just happened.

“Shit,” he grits, taking in our surroundings, realizing he’s not overseas and the war zone we’re in the middle of has nothing to do with terrorism and everything to do with the club he’s a part of. He turns his gaze back to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Stryker, you’re okay, man?” Pipe says, limping alongside my husband. “I’ve got to find Oksana.”

Stryker doesn’t pay Pipe any attention and continues to stare at me, averting his eyes to my wrist, he swallows.

“What happened to your arm?” Anthony asks.

I open my mouth to answer when I hear my sister’s scream echo through the devastation.

“Nikki!”

“Where are you?” Anthony shouts into the smoke, coughing as his lungs fill with dust.

“I don’t know,” she cries. “Please help! Mikey is trapped.”

“What do you see around you?” Pipe shouts.

Nikki remains silent as we start to move. I can feel Stryker’s gaze burning a hole into me but I ignore the mentally anguished veteran and wait for my sister’s reply.

“He’s trapped underneath the bar,” she calls back to us.

“This way,” Pipe instructs.

“Linc,” Stryker mutters. “He was sitting on top of the bar before the blast.”

“Is Mike conscience?” Anthony asks.

“In and out. Please help!” Her voice is frantic and my heart breaks at her plea.