“Where are you hit?”
“You’re the hot biker guy, right?” Myles asked instead. “It’s hard to tell. You know, with the mask and all. But you’re built nicely.”
“Thanks. Where are you hit?”
“His foot,” Levee said as he reached down to check the pulse of one of the guards, using his knuckles instead of his fingers, not wanting to leave prints on the body.
“Running back to the car is going to suck for you then,” I said as I walked over toward the hook in the wall to undo the chain.
“Some warning,” Myles hissed as he slammed down onto his knees on the unyielding floor, taking a few slow, deep breaths.
“You good? You’re going to need to walk,” I added.
“I’m fine. Lark?” he asked.
“Lark is fine. She’s with your uncle right now, actually.”
“Oh, that’s going to be a fun conversation later,” Myles said as I nodded toward Levee, a silent We’re done here.
“Where the fuck is Cato?” Levee hissed as we walked back out of the unit to find blood smeared across the floor, but no man.
Seeley.
Seeley was where Cato was.
Because he was, yet again, missing.
“Come on. We gotta run,” I said, giving Myles a nod before we all took off, Levee taking the lead and me falling behind Myles who was running with a bit of a, well, Hunchback of Notre Dame sort of run, clearly favoring his right foot as we retraced our footsteps through the building and outside.
There was no trace of Seeley or Cato, and a part of me was torn, wondering if I was mistaken, if someone had come in behind us and taken them while we’d been inside the unit.
We couldn’t waste any time wondering, though.
Besides, if I had to put my money on anything, it would be that Seeley had shit under control.
So we took off toward the gates, where I finally had some confirmation that Seeley was okay because there was a body half-hidden behind some shrubs and a small puddle of blood where he’d likely set Cato down so he could move the body out of the way so it wasn’t visible from the road.
Feeling marginally better, but getting increasingly worried about the blood Cato was losing, we started down the street, only to have Lark’s car come speeding up at us.
I had the keys.
Which meant Seeley somehow had the time to kill the guard, move him, and half drag Cato down the street, so he could hotwire the car and circle back to snatch us all up.
“Hurry up,” Seeley demanded, a hint of worry in his voice, making my gaze slide to Cato as the tree of us crushed into the back seat.
“Where am I putting pressure?” Levee asked, peeling off his own shirt and reaching around the passenger seat to stuff the shirt against Cato’s stomach where Seeley pointed before peeling away from the curb.
“He needs a hospital,” I said, worrying about the repercussions of that.
There would be cops and questions. Ones we clearly couldn’t answer.
“No hospital,” Cato ground out between shaky breaths.
“Don’t be a hero, man,” Myles demanded. “I mean, you’re looking kind of gray,” he added, saying what the rest of us were likely thinking.
“I know a place,” Seeley said, taking a turn.
Of course he did.