Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(34)

He shoved himself upward. He realized several things at once. The truck wasn’t moving. They’d had one hell of a wreck. Ian and Katie were both missing.

Adrenaline surged, liquid and edgy. The cobwebs cleared from his brain as he leaned forward to examine the damage to the front seat.

The dash was caved in on the driver’s side. No way Ian could have gotten out by himself. He had to have been trapped. Had Katie managed to get him out? Or were they both dead?

An icy chill cooled some of the adrenaline rush. He reached for the door only to find it wouldn’t budge. He leaned back and kicked at it, hammering it repeatedly until it gave way.

He crawled from the interior and nearly fell out onto the ground. Struggling upward, he leaned a hand against the truck as he surveyed the immediate area.

It looked like a damn war zone.

There wasn’t much that he hadn’t seen—certainly not much that would shock him—but seeing Ricardo de la Cruz laid out with his neck gaping open, blood spattered in a three-foot radius around him and one of his henchmen on the ground several yard away with half his head blown off was so bizarrely surreal, he wondered if he was dreaming the entire thing.

A sound to his right shook him from his stupor, and he charged over, half afraid he’d find Ian or Katie in a bad way. He saw another of Ricardo’s goons slithering along the ground leaving a thick blood trail. Dark, almost black. Braden shuddered. Gut shot. Painful, messy way to die.

Braden kicked the man’s shoulder with the toe of his boot to turn him over. The man stared up at him with frosted-over eyes that told Braden he wasn’t long for this world.

Braden bent down and gathered his shirt, yanking him a foot off the ground.

“What the f**k happened?” he growled.

The man’s lips flapped up and down, but nothing would come out. He was obviously scared shitless.

“C-cat. Big c-cat,” he sputtered.

Oh f**k. Ian had freaked out and shifted.

“The girl. Where is the girl?”

“Don’t know,” the man gasped. “She escaped…when the cat…when it attacked…Ricardo. She s-shot me…and the others.”

“Good girl,” Braden murmured.

He let go of the man and gently returned his shoulders to the ground. His breath caught and stuttered, and for a moment his eyes widened in panic. Then air escaped softly, and he deflated. His head lolled back until his stare was locked sideways, focused on something distant. At least the bastard wasn’t suffering any longer.

Braden got up and stalked back to the SUV. He needed to get the f**k out of here before the cops showed up. He had no idea how long it had been since things had gone to shit, but it couldn’t be that long judging by the fresh blood and the guy who’d only just died from his wounds.

He surveyed the damage to their vehicle with a grimace. It was toast. He glanced over at the SUVs driven by Ricardo’s following. There were two. One with extensive front-end damage. The other had a few bullet holes but was otherwise intact.

Only taking time to haul out the gear from the back of the truck, he transferred it to the other SUV and climbed behind the wheel. He’d have to stash the vehicle and backtrack to find Ian. And Katie.

He peeled away and looked for a path into the wooded area. A few minutes later, he dove off the road onto a faint, overgrown trail. He barreled through the woods, tree limbs slapping the windshield.

Christ, but they didn’t have time for this. The last thing he wanted to do was have to call Eli to come bail their asses out. He remembered with abashed clarity that he’d snidely decided if they couldn’t handle one slip of a woman he and Ian needed to f**king quit.

Yeah, real smooth.

He broke into a short clearing as the road widened, and the trees fell away. And he almost ran over the body lying in the pathway. With a vicious curse, he wrenched the wheel sideways and tumbled into the trees. He came to an abrupt halt mere inches from a huge-ass pine. Not exactly what he wanted to pick a fight with.

He bolted from the truck and ran back to where he’d seen Ian—or at least who he thought was Ian. He didn’t think there’d be too many other naked men in the vicinity.

He wasn’t dead. Braden wouldn’t contemplate that something had gone horribly wrong. Okay, scratch that. Something had indeed gone terribly wrong. The bloodbath he’d left behind was evidence enough. But as long as it was Ricardo’s thugs and not Ian or Katie who’d taken the heat, he could deal.

He dropped to his knees over Ian’s sprawled body. Ian was facedown in the road, one arm tucked underneath him and the other over his head. His body glistened with sweat, but Braden couldn’t see any blood.

Hesitantly, he reached for his brother, touching the warm, damp skin of his back. The muscles twitched and quivered under his fingers, and Braden expelled a huge sigh of relief. Ian was alive.

“Ian. Ian,” he said louder. He shook Ian’s shoulder.

Ian moaned softly but didn’t move.

“Come on, man. We don’t have any time to waste, and I can’t carry your ass.”

Ian’s head turned and he stared at Braden with unfocused eyes. “You’re alive,” he rasped.

“Funny, that was my reaction when I found you,” Braden said. “What the hell happened? When I came to, the SUV was toast, there were dead bodies everywhere, and you and Katie were gone.”