Page 38 of Wrecker

Before I could reply, the door banged open, and two more men stormed in. Faces I knew too well.

“Fuck,” I muttered. Talbot and Lang were both from my old unit.

Fucking traitors.

They saw Calder crumpled on the floor and charged toward us.

Kane and I moved fast, meeting them halfway. It was brutal. Fists and boots connecting with muscle and bone. I took a punch to the ribs that cracked something loose, but I got Talbot in a chokehold and didn’t let go until he blacked out.

Kane fought like a pitbull in a bar brawl. Lang only got in one hit before Kane slammed him into the wall hard enough to make the drywall crack.

The fight wasn’t clean, but it was fast. In five minutes, both were tied up, bruised, and bleeding next to Calder.

I checked my watch. “Fuck. We have less than thirty minutes left.”

I grabbed my radio. “Midnight. We’re outta time. Pull the crew. Get the hell out.”

“Copy.” That was his clipped response.

Wolf jogged into the room, breath short. “Truck’s ready.”

“Take Calder,” I ordered. “Get him loaded up.”

Wolf nodded, grabbed the unconscious bastard by the collar, and started dragging.

Kane jerked one of the still-struggling assholes to his feet, and I did the same with the other. Then we let them out into the hallway and headed toward the lobby.

The floor vibrated beneath our boots as we took the stairs down. I didn’t like the way it felt.

“This doesn’t count as a favor,” I muttered to Kane when we reached the first floor.

A sudden beep pierced the air.

My head snapped down. Talbot was wearing a watch—and it was blinking red.

My stomach dropped. “Shit?—”

I didn’t get to finish.

The explosion was deafening.

Pain slammed into my side like a truck. The world spun, then blinked out completely.

When I came to,everything hurt.

Pain burned in my ribs, my thigh, and my fucking skull. My ears rang like a motherfucker. I sucked in a breath, and my lungs burned as though they’d been scrubbed raw with gravel.

A shadow blocked the light.

Kane.

He was crouched over me, bruised and filthy but grinning.

“How about now?” he asked, voice smug.

“Fuck you,” I rasped.

He laughed and offered me a hand. “You’re welcome.”

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