Cary (Henchmen MC Next Generation 5)

“Sure. But you have to promise to wait until we find our friend, okay?”

“Fine,” the kid grumbled, likely used to adults making promises that they didn’t keep.

“I’ll sit here and wait with you to see if they find her,” Seth said, waving toward the front steps of the apartment building as Dezi, Voss, and I moved inside.

I gave him a nod as I moved into the foyer, looking around as if I would find her just sitting there and waiting for me.

“I’ll go up,” Voss said, going toward the stairs without waiting for a response.

“What are you doing? She wouldn’t be in the elevator,” I said when Dezi moved inside it, keeping his foot in the way of the doors so they didn’t close.

“No. But she did use it,” he said, looking up at me, waiting for me to move into the car to see what he was pointing to.

The floor buttons.

Well, one in particular.

With blood on it.

The basement.

Yeah, that made sense, didn’t it?

The upstairs floors risked her being seen by someone who might give her up if the guys came looking for her.

But the basement was likely abandoned and private. It would give her time and space to lick her wounds, to try to figure out her next move.

Dezi moved back to let the doors close as he punched the basement button again.

“At least if we plummet,” he said when the elevator creaked and groaned, which explained why the floor was so damn dusty, like no one had stepped inside it for ages, “we would probably survive.”

The car stopped, the bell chimed, and the doors slid open.

The two of us moved out in unison.

And we both froze in unison too when we heard the hollow click of a gun with an empty chamber.

It was half of a second later that I found the source.

Abigail, standing in the doorway of a small room, her whole body shaking.

But still making her last stand.

“Hey, love,” I murmured, voice soft, not entirely sure she was fully comprehending that it was us standing there. “You’re okay. Put the gun down,” I said. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

That last part seemed to penetrate because her arms dropped to her sides as her whole body slumped down, curling into itself as the sobs started to rack her system.

“Shit, man. Tears. That’s your thing. I’ll go find the asshole,” he said, walking backward into the elevator and hitting the close door button a bit frantically, like he was worried Abigail might try to cling to him and cry on his shoulder.

I rushed forward, dropping down in front of her.

The fall and roll afterward had done some damage, but she must have lucked out and jumped when the truck wasn’t moving too fast.

The pavement had torn through her pants, skinning the knees beneath. It had done the same to the arms of her shirt and the skin beneath. And there was a pretty decent gash on her forehead and road burn on her chin.

There were likely going to be bruises everywhere and a lot of soreness.

But she was okay.

Alive.

Away from Raúl.

That was what mattered.

Everything else we could handle.

“Okay, baby, it’s okay,” I said, carefully closing my arms around her, pulling her against my chest.

“Are they okay?” she sobbed, her voice a high-pitched, hysterical sound. “Did they die?”

I went ahead and assumed she wanted to know about Seth, Finn, and Louana, not Raúl’s men.

“Seth is right out front waiting for us. He wasn’t hurt at all.”

“But… but…”

“They got shot, but they’re okay,” I told her, carefully running my hand over her hair.

“It’s my fault.”

“Hey,” I said, voice a little firmer than usual. “Listen to me. Not a fucking thing that happened today was your fault. This was Raúl’s fault. No one else’s.”

“I had to… to… shoot.”

“I know. You did what you had to do to survive, that’s all.”

“Did he die?”

I could have sugarcoated it. But that wasn’t my style. She needed to know the full truth of what was going on.

“Yes. And it looks like Raúl shot the driver.”

“Is he…”

“I’m assuming he’s on a plane back to Mexico. That was where the truck was. At an independent airstrip.”

Though, I very much doubted he was going to stay away.

Especially now that he had more information. He was probably going to go back to let the heat die down, then make another move when he thought we wouldn’t have our guards up.

But I didn’t need to give Abigail all that information. At least not until I got her somewhere safe, got her cleaned up, made sure she was okay.

“Can I take you out of here, love?” I asked. “I really want to check you over, clean you up.”

“Okay,” she said. “Where are we going?”

That was a good question.

The apartment was not an option. First, because of possible fresh bad memories. Second, because there was a body on the floor and blood all over the walls.