Page 91 of Holiday Hostage
Mav had sent me back to check on Tarron while he held off the men around front.
The blast blew me backward, past the wall, then dropped the wall on top of me.
It came back in fits and starts. The boom. The sense of weightlessness. Then the pain and a feeling of smothering.
They’d left me for dead. Either they couldn’t find me, or they’d assumed the blast did their dirty work for them. Almost.
I shimmied my way free of the wall and dropped it, covering the notch where I’d landed perfectly to be protected from the wall crashing on top of me.
I worked my arms up and down, then around in circles.
My feet were numb, and I stumbled a few times before the blood circulated enough to cause an eruption of pins and needles in my extremities.
I ran toward where Tarron had fallen.
Fear held me by the throat. He’d fallen like a rock.
I’d never seen Tarron drop like that.
Neither he nor Mav came looking for me.
The thought threatened to steal all hope.
If they were alive, they’d have come looking for me. Maybe they were trapped too.
I found the spot where Tarron had fallen.
Limbs from the nearby trees covered the area, along with lighter pieces of the cabin.
The blast had happened in the front, leaving most of the rear of the structure standing.
That alone kept Tarron from being obliterated…if he had survived the gunshot.
Fucking Jack Wilson. My jaw ached from holding it so tight. I was going to kill him. Slowly.
I put all my fear and anger to work. Sweat gathered under my arms and across my forehead. I should slow down. It wasn’t good to sweat in this kind of cold. Fuck it. Fuckeverything.
My brothers needed me.
I tossed aside branches and debris at a furious pace. My lungs burned.
My shoulder throbbed.
And I worked with the fury of a madman until I uncovered Tarron’s lifeless body.
I hit my knees and rested my head on his chest.
My hands were almost numb and torn to hell from working without gloves, but I pressed my fingers to his neck and stuck the back of my wrist beneath his nose.
Between all three, I should be able to discern if he was breathing, if his heart beat.
Blood roared in my ears, and I closed my eyes to concentrate and steady my panic.
A flutter of a heartbeat drummed. His pulse fluttered beneath my fingertips.
The slightest hint of breath brushed my wrist. “That’s what I’m talking about.” I pushed upright and tore off the rest of the mess covering him.
A quick search of his body revealed a gunshot wound high on his left side.
