Damaged (Boys of Winter 2)

The girls wobble on their feet and Grayson slips his arms around two of them while I try to help the other two as best I can. Cruz comes careening down the hallway and his eyes go wide, only just realizing what the hell we needed help with. “Fuck,” he grunts, instantly picking up the girl on my right and lightening my load as I take note of his bloodied knuckles, scrapes, and cuts over his face.

“Where are King and Carver?” Grayson demands, looking back at Cruz.

“King’s out front stealing a car and Carver’s still searching out Sam. The little bitch went into hiding at the first sight of trouble. The rest of the guards are down, but someone would have called in backup by now.”

Grayson nods, barreling through to the front foyer of the house. “I still want these girls out of this fucking house as soon as possible.”

“I’m fucking with you.”

After what feels like forever, we get the girls out into the fresh air just as King brings a blacked-out SUV to a screeching stop before us. The driver’s door flies open, and King races around, peeling open every door he passes and helping to get them all loaded in.

I stand with King and Cruz as Grayson runs down the drive to get the Escalade. My hands ball into fists, keeping my eyes on the front door. “Where is he?” I demand, refusing to move.

“He’ll come,” King promises.

A minute passes and then two and when Grayson pulls the Escalade to a stop right behind the blacked-out SUV for a quick getaway, my patience reaches its limits.

I bolt back toward the door. “Fuck, Winter,” Cruz yells racing after me. “You’re not going back in there.”

He grabs hold of my arm, pulling me to a stop on the top step of Sam’s home and I instantly whip back to see his furious stare. “I swear to God, Cruz. Let go of me before I pull your fucking balls out through your throat. I’m not leaving Carver in there. Who the fuck knows what’s taking him so long. What if he’s hurt?”

“He’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Carver’s the best we’ve got. He can handle himself. He’ll get the job done and meet us out here, just like we planned. Trust him.”

I let out a regretful sigh and pull my arm free. “I’m going in there whether you like it or not, so you can either get your ass back down the stairs or come with me. What’s it going to be?”

Cruz glances back down the stairs at the guys standing protectively by the doors of the SUV, keeping the girls safe. Knowing that they have everything under control, he curses. “Fine,” he snaps. “Make it fast.”

Cruz pushes himself in front of me and we start racing back through the house. He leads me right up the stairs, kicking down doors as we go. I stare with wide eyes, seeing men lying across the floor with gunshot wounds all over their bodies.

“You did this?” I ask.

Cruz’s stare hardens and all he gives me is a sharp nod before turning back to the mess before him. We get right through the upstairs level of the home before hurrying back down. “Where the fuck is he?” Cruz murmurs to himself.

We cut through the kitchen and I come to an immediate stop, hearing voices on the other side of the wall. Only the other side of this room is the main living area that we just raced through that was completely empty.

“Wait,” I tell Cruz, slowly scanning the kitchen. “They’re here somewhere. I can hear Carver’s voice.”

Cruz steps in beside me, straining to hear what I hear, and when Carver’s deep, haunting tone vibrates through the kitchen, Cruz instantly starts scanning the cabinetry.

He steps into it, pulling open the cupboards until he gets to the floor to ceiling pantry only to find another door inside. “Here,” he tells me, indicating with a nod of his head to follow him into the pantry.

I don’t hesitate, gripping my gun tightly. I follow Cruz through the tunnel-like room, realizing that this is some kind of escape tunnel. Carver would never let Sam get away so easily.

We walk for less than thirty seconds through the dark tunnel before it opens into a small bunker and we find Carver standing over Sam with a gun pointed right at his temple. Sam looks shit scared, and the sight has all sorts of joy spreading through my chest, though it instantly fades away as I see Carver’s furious glare aimed right at me.

Sam quickly glances at us and he immediately recognizes me, though why wouldn’t he? My kidnapping earned him a hefty five million dollars. “You,” he spits, only now realizing that Carver wasn’t an authentic purchaser and I’m not as dead as he may have let on.