Page 92 of Holiday Hostage
I yanked my personal medical kit from my leg pocket and flipped it open. “You’re an insufferable son of a bitch, but you have good ideas sometimes. Like this.”
I grabbed all the gauze from my pack and pressed it to the wound. “Never would have carried a kit if you hadn’t harped about it for months.”
“You gave in easier than I thought.” Tarron’s eyelids flickered. His mouth pinched white, pain bracketing his mouth as he came to full awareness. “Shit. That hurts. That’s good. Means I’m still alive.”
“You had us worried for a minute.” So worried my hands shook when I tried to press harder on his makeshift bandage.
“Mav and Payton?” Tarron sat bolt upright, hissed an expletive, and craned his neck to look behind him. He took in the obliterated cabin. “What happened?”
“They blew the place to shit. Dad and Payton were on their way to the car. Mav had the mercenaries pinned down around front.” I stopped there.
We could see straight through the cabin from here.
There was no front of the cabin anymore.
A few timbers stuck upright around the backside, the remnants of the blast looking like rotten teeth.
“I’ll live.” Tarron took over holding the wad of gauze to his ribs. He held up his other hand. “Help me up.”
I gave him my good arm, and with a lot of grunting and swearing, we got him on his feet. “You look like shit.”
He’d lost the last of his color when he stood, and he slumped forward, his hand on his knee, for several seconds. “Right back ‘atcha.” He straightened by degrees. “We need to find everyone else.” He took a step, wobbled, then locked his jaw and kept going.
“Never been prouder of you, man.” I kicked some debris out of his way so he didn’t have to climb over it.
“Don’t get sentimental on me now.” Tarron tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough.
He pressed his other hand to his ribs and winced. “Damn. Have to keep an eye out for pneumonia. Might have cracked a rib or two.”
He tipped his head toward me. “You know you’re going to have to take this bullet out of me, right? Finally get to pay me back.”
“Can’t wait.” I made a show of clapping and rubbing my hands together. In truth, terror spiked through me.
We limped and staggered our way to the front of the cabin. I pointed. “Dad’s car is missing.”
“You should go check for prints. Make sure he got Payton out. You’d be able to tell that versus them kidnapping her again, right?”
“Are you kidding? You’re talking to the best tracker in the world.” I patted my chest. “Maverick first.” I couldn’t explain the way my entire body pitched toward the last place I’d seen Maverick.
All I knew was that if Payton had been kidnapped, we needed Mav. We’d track the bastards down again and take her back. Together.
Tarron nodded. “Where do we start?”
I eyed the ground.
Tracks littered the entire front lawn, crisscrossing and doubling around until they made a giant mess that would take me hours to work through.
Thank God I didn’t need to.
All I needed was one set of prints. I found them exactly where I expected.
Mav’s favorite boot brand had soles that made a unique imprint I’d learned to read during our first mission together.
I pointed. “He was heading that way.” Toward the woods. Toward danger. Becauseof coursehe’d run into danger after sending me away. He’d not been thinking straight since Jack fired at Tarron.
“Lead the way.” Tarron cursed when he tried to take a step and went sideways.
I grabbed his arm. “You can sit down.”
