The Hit (Team Zulu 1)

Our eyes met for the briefest of moments before I slipped through the door and shut it. The sounds of the club muted behind me.

The enclosed concrete staircase before me was narrow and illuminated with fluorescent lights. I couldn’t see Shep from here. I’d need to descend further.

Was anyone else down there? The ginger thug, perhaps? I took the first few steps with caution, and hearing no sounds below, descended a few more. The temperature dropped the lower I went. The musty odor of mold made my nose scrunch.

Halfway down, the room came into view. I spotted Shep, still motionless and cuffed to the chair. I flew down the last of the stairs.

“Shep!” He didn’t respond as I hurried to him, but his chest rose and fell with slow, deep breaths. Thank God he was alive! Although blood leaked from a split lip and a nasty gash along his cheekbone. Bruises in various states of swelling mottled the rest of his face. My poor man.

I put my hands to his cheeks, being careful with his injuries. “Please, wake up.” Tears prickled my eyes.

Hell no! What if I couldn’t rouse him?

I shook him by the shoulders and spoke louder this time. “Dammit, Shep, I need you!”

He groaned and his head bobbed, but he was far from conscious.

I noticed one empty and one full water bucket next to his seat. Red used one to wake him earlier.

I gnawed my lip as I struggled to lift the heavy load over my shoulder. When I dumped the water over Shep’s head, his eyes shot open. His whole body tensed, muscles straining and chest heaving, as if preparing to fight. I jerked back from the wild man before me.

But then he shook his head. “Cam?” His blinking gaze raked over me as though he didn’t trust what he saw.

A strangled sound came from my throat as I launched myself at him and threw my arms around his neck. I laugh-cried as I clung to him, but we didn’t have time for a happy reunion yet.

The cold shower had washed the blood from his injuries, so he looked a little better. I pulled myself from him, my front soaked through.

With a smile, I took the handcuff key from my pocket, held it up, and wiggled my brows. “I’m breaking you out of this shithole, baby.”

His eyes darted over my face. “What? How? Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Let’s get you out of these cuffs.” I fiddled the key into the barrel of the lock with shaking hands. The moment the cuff swung open, Shep reached for me and brought my mouth to his in a brief but firm kiss. I savored the warmth of his lips, even though I tasted his blood on them. He rested his forehead against mine, needing a deep breath to gain his composure.

He pulled back, his palms still cupping my jaw. “How did you get down here? And with that key?”

“We’ve got help. Sage, a waitress, and some guy, Brandon.” I worked fast to remove the other cuff.

He blinked, then glanced down. When his eyes cut back to mine, he lifted a brow. “Ben is here?”

“Yeah. The asshole brought Justin to Franky. Sage said she’d try to get him out though.” Was it too much to ask for two miracles in one day? Getting both Shep and my brother out of here alive?

One side of his mouth twitched up. “It’s him. Ben’s helping us. Brandon is his alias. The woman must be with him.”

“For real?” I might have to temporarily revoke his asshole status. At least until he helped get us out of here.

“Yeah, and with him we have a shot. Let’s get moving.” He groaned as he bent over to untie the rope at one ankle. I helped with the other.

The basement door opened and loud music filtered through before it shut again.

Shep and I froze, wide eyes glued to each other. Voices came from above, one with a cold, emotionless tone I recognized.

My blood turned to ice.

Franky was here.