Page 83 of The Last True Hero
Surely someone would hear the noise. She didn’t know what to do. There was so much blood, and if Jake didn’t take Rykker down now, then there might be more of it.
"Let me out!" the warg in the cage bellowed, rattling the door on his cell until he could no longer bear the burn of the silver on the bars.
The two men staggered toward them, shirts tearing as they wrestled. Rykker was bigger, but Jake knew every trick in the book.
“Jake!” she screamed, curling over McClain protectively as they staggered back into her.
Both men went down, and she took a boot to the thigh. McClain’s hand curled around her wrist as though he was trying to protect her.
“Son of a bitch,” Jake swore, landing flat on his back.
Rykker pressed a knee to his chest, his hands curling around Jake’s throat.
“Jake!” Ellie screamed.
“G-get the gun,” Jake choked out.
Mia didn’t know what to do. She couldn't leave McClain. Beneath her hands his chest began to shake. He was still bleeding, still trying to breathe, a horrible rattling sound that made her feel sick.
But if Rykker took Jake down, then she and McClain were sitting ducks.
"On it!" Ellie scrambled for the spent shotgun. Gripping the hot barrel with her blood-slick hands, she slammed the heavy butt down across Rykker’s shoulders. It was just enough to break his grip on Jake’s throat. Jake slammed his palm up under Rykker’s chin, and went after him when Rykker rolled.
Ellie stood there with the gun raised again, as if she didn't know what to do. The two men grappled again. Jake drove Rykker into the silver-coated bars of the warg cell, and head-butted him.
There was movement within the cell. A shadow loomed behind Rykker’s shoulder and he made a shocked noise, his eyes shooting open wide as he gasped.
Jake slammed his forearm across the reiver’s throat, but the bastard slumped against him one fist curling Jake’s collar, as if to plead for help.
“What the…?” Jake stepped back, and Rykker hit the floor face-first, his back a bloody ruin.
In the cell, the warg withdrew bloody claws through the bars. "I'm McClain's friend, Johnny Colton."
Ellie turned the shotgun on him even though she had no shells. Jake’s shoulders heaved, and he took a limping step sideways, clutching at his ribs. Bethany and Sara cowered in the corner.
“Are you all right?” Mia gasped.
“Peachy.” Jake leaned against the opposite wall, as though, now that the fight was over, he could barely keep himself on his feet. "He never mentioned you."
"He wouldn't," Colton replied dryly. "When I say 'friend,’ I use that word loosely. But we... know each other."
McClain's chest gave a racking heave beneath her hands. She touched his face, leaving bloodied fingerprints there. "Is there a medical kit somewhere around here? Something? Anything?"
Ellie shoved Rykker with her boot, and his body rolled over like a slab of heavy beef.
Down. Glassy-eyed and dead.
Ellie looked up at Colton. “I don’t know whether to say thanks, or not.”
The warg's dark eyes met her own. “Don’t thank me just yet.” His gaze slid sideways, to where McClain gasped beneath Mia's hands. McClain's face was rapidly turning gray. "He's dying. Let me out and I might be able to help."
"Yeah, right." Jake crawled toward her, his face paling when he saw the damage. “Mia—”
“I know you’ve tended wounds before,” she broke in, ignoring what he was about to say. McClain’s skin felt clammy to the touch, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She pressed her fingers to his throat. The second she found his thready pulse, a wave of relief burst over her.
“Please, Jake,” Mia whispered in desperation. “I can’t lose him. I can’t!”
Not when she’d just found him. Not when she’d only just begun to open her heart to him.
