Tank flinched when the glass doors burst open. He heard three pairs of feet. Two walking, the third—shuffling as if he couldn’t move that well. By the time two large goons emerged into view, dragging their captive as if he were a ragdoll, Tank’s whole body itched with held-back fury. Despite his sorry state, Drake didn’t have to be carried, which meant he was alive.
Pyro didn’t hesitate and shot one of the men dragging Drake. Tank put his gun against the other’s head. The goon raised his arms with a sharp intake of breath, and Drake dropped to the ground the moment he no longer had support.
Tank didn’t miss their captive’s hand gravitating to his own firearm, but a stronger push of the muzzle against a sweaty temple stifled the bastard’s will to fight in the bud.
“I-I’m just doing my job—”
He would soon regret he ever took that paycheck.
“Where’s Boar?” Pyro barked, getting into the guy’s face like a wild cat about to bite off his face.
“Who?”
Tank cursed beneath his breath and spoke, “The big guy. Auburn hair. Captured last night.”
One of Drake’s eyes was so swollen and bruised he couldn’t open it, the other—dark and dilated—looked up at Tank, but when he tried to speak, he only managed a moan, as if his captors had drained him of both blood and strength.
Apollo’s man shook his head. “We’re the last ones. That other guy’s gone. Don’t know where the albino is, either. I’m not even the driver, I don’t know where they take them. Please…”
Pyro snarled, and his gun clicked as he pressed it to the underside of their captive’s jaw, making the man whimper frantically. “They took him away an hour back. He’s not here, I swear, I swear!”
Pyro pulled the trigger, and Tank felt the coppery taste of blood overcome his mouth as blood shot into his face. The man went limp, and there was no point holding him up anymore.
Chapter 16 – Pyro
The blood cooled on Pyro’s skin, but it didn’t bring him any relief. His heart galloped when he saw the broken head first drop, then collapse to the floor when Tank let go of the body.
If he could have. He’d have killed the fucker again. He’d have killed them all again.
“What the fuck?” Tank’s fist came out of nowhere and hit the middle of Pyro’s chest, sending him back so fast he tripped over the man he’d shot earlier and hit the wall. “We could have questioned him further!”
“He didn’t know shit!” Pyro yelled. “Every minute counts. Drake.” The sorry state Drake was in didn’t stop him from scooting down and shaking his arm. Boar wouldn’t have come out last night if it hadn’t been for fucking Drake, so he’d have to pay with information. “Where did they take Boar?”
Tank shoved him again, as if Pyro was the one who’d provoked half their crew into a suicide mission. “Let’s get him to the car.”
Drake’s gaze was even blacker than usual when he glanced at Pyro. With the daylight rapidly chasing away the night, the bruises and swelling all over his skin were impossible to miss. He kept sucking air through lips which were caked with dried blood and so thick it was hard to understand him when he spoke up softly, attempting to rise to his feet.
“I don’t—Clover?” he whimpered, but the question was yet another drop of fuel to the fire of Pyro’s anger.
“Boar. Where is Boar, you dumb fuck? We agreed to sit this one out,” Pyro exploded, but when he shook the trembling shoulders again, Drake heaved, and Pyro pulled away just in time to avoid the vomit.
"Clover's with us. In the car. He's fine,” Tank said and helped Drake get up, but it was more like Tank carrying him than anything else.
Drake didn’t even have the strength to resist the touch and went limp, rolling his head along Tank’s shoulder. He stumbled, glancing around as if he couldn’t believe they were here. The relief in his one visible eye was hard to bear.
There would be no relief to be had until they found Boar. Did no one but Pyro understand that? Or was Clover all that mattered? Sure, the boy was frightened out of his mind and bleeding here and there, but he was alive and back in the fold.
Unlike Boar.
Pyro followed them to the car with frustration oozing out of his every pore.
“He’s not fine,” Drake whispered, but went limp in Tank’s arms before Pyro could have asked what the enigmatic shit was about.
Tank scowled. “Help me, Pyro. Come on.”
Pyro stilled, staring at Tank while his muscles turned into wood. Seeing Drake like this, when Pyro knew he was resilient as a cockroach, made him even more frantic to find Boar. “Are you kidding me? He must be still down there!”