“Did he cut the femoral artery?” Green asked, leaning in and peering over Crash’s shoulder.
“I don’t think so, he’d be dead already.”
Cole growled, “We need to get him to the hospital.”
Mack shouted, “I got this.” He jumped in the driver’s seat.
Crash lay on the van floor holding Wolf, trying to stem the blood flow. Cole’s eyes connected with Mack’s through the sliding side cargo door. “There’s gonna be questions.”
“I said I got it. Move!”
Cole slammed the side door, and the van sped off into the night.
Crystal watched it barrel down the highway toward town. Too late, her brain catching up with the action. “Wait, I want to go with him. I need to be with him.”
Cole turned toward her, his eyes sliding over her tangled hair and blood drenched clothing. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “It’s all Wolf’s blood. None of it is mine.”
He nodded. “Good. I’ll take you to Wolf, darlin’. I promise. But first you’re gonna lead us to Taz.”
“Wolf shot him,” she replied, confused.
“Then his body shouldn’t be hard to find,” Cole snapped, then turned to his men. “Red Dog, Green, let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Crystal led them back the way she’d come. Riding until she saw the flicker of a campfire off in the distance about fifty yards from the road. “Here. Turn here,” she yelled over Cole’s shoulder, as she sat on the back of his bike. She pointed toward the fire.
Cole, Red Dog and Green went off road. They pulled to the campsite, drawing their guns as they dismounted. Cole shoved Crystal behind him protectively. Four sets of eyes scanned the campsite. No Taz in sight.
Crystal peered around Cole’s shoulder, her eyes scanning around the campsite searching the area where Taz had been before they left. “He’s gone,” she stuttered, unbelieving.
Red Dog stood next to the tree where Wolf had been strung up. The cut and frayed rope tied off to the tree trunk still lay on the ground, ground that was soaked in blood. “Jesus Christ. Look at all this blood.”
Cole turned to Crystal. “Where was he when Wolf shot him?”
Crystal stared up at him, half in shock.
“Show me,” Cole snapped.
She pointed to the area, and Cole bent to look at the bloody trail that led away into the trees. He stood, motioning with two fingers for Dog and Green to follow him. They quietly followed the trail, guns drawn, and not fifty yards into the undergrowth, they found him.
“Going somewhere?” Cole asked a surprised Taz, who glared up at him and then huffed out a laugh as he kept scrambling back, his boot heels digging in the dirt and inching him along in a pathetic trail.
“Did you see what I did to your guy?” Taz grunted out in pain. “It was really you I wanted strung up in that tree. You I wanted to fucking slice up. For what you did to my face. I wanted to make you pay for it, you son-of-a-bitch.” He laughed and grunted in pain again. “But I guess I’ll have to settle for the fact that every time you look at your brother’s scarred up face, you’ll be reminded that I did that to him. And that it was meant for you. He took your punishment for you. You gonna be able to live with that?”
“Shut your fucking face, asshole,” Cole growled. And then he raised his gun and emptied his clip into Taz, watching his body jump and jerk as each shot plowed into him. He didn’t stop until he’d fired every one of the fifteen rounds, and there was just a clicking noise as he continued to pull the trigger over and over.
“Cole. You’re empty, Brother,” Red Dog whispered quietly from behind him.
Cole stared down at the man that had haunted his life for years, all the way back to when Angel had first come into his life, his chest sawing in and out with his ragged breathing. It was over. That sadistic son-of-a-bitch would never again torment anyone.
Green held out his gun to Cole. “Here, use mine.”
That broke the tension, and Red Dog slapped him on the back.
Cole let out a deep cleansing breath, the weight of his hatred rolling off him.