Chapter Twenty-Six

Seven

Bullets peppered the ground and a piece of tree splintered off and Hunter dodged to the left, but a piece of wood hit Hunter in the face. The man stumbled and a sound left his throat as he began hopping on one leg.

A savage roar welled up inside Seven and he sprang forward to pull Hunter to the ground and out of any further line of fire.

“I’m okay, it didn’t hit my eye,” Hunter assured him, but just the thought of Hunter getting shot had scared the fuck out of Seven. He cupped the man’s face and studied the slice across Hunter’s cheekbone. Yanking up his t-shirt, Seven tore a piece from the bottom of it and pressed the material to the wound to stop the bleeding.

Jaxon melted away in the direction of the safe house.

“There’s no way they’re getting in there. Stone and Jaxon will die before giving up the code,” Hunter whispered, leaning into his hand.

When realization dawned, Seven nodded. He’d heard the whole fucking thing laying in the dirt trying to figure out how the fuck to get him and Hunter out of this. His only recourse had been to play knocked out and then slip away. It was there in the dark he’d come across Fisher creeping up on them.

“His men don’t know Malcolm’s dead.”

“Yeah.” Hunter reached down and rubbed at his ankle.

With a frown, Seven pulled up Hunter’s pant leg, but of course, it was too dark to see anything.

“I tweaked it, help me up.”

Seven easily pulled Hunter to his feet and the man balanced on one foot before testing the other. Hunter grimaced and shot him a look, but Seven patiently waited. He wasn’t going to leave Hunter out there alone with God only knew how many assassins on the loose.

“Go, I’ll catch up.”

“No.”

“Go back up Jaxon,” Hunter said before pulling the Glock from his waist. Seven spotted the tactical rifle. It had been there all along while Hunter had been talking to Malcolm, but of course, Hunter had been too close to Malcolm to pull it up and shoot.

“I’ll be right back,” Seven growled, not liking it.

“I’ll be right behind you. Hurry.”

Seven crouched in the darkness alone, his eyes laser focused on whoever the fuck had shot at Hunter. Somewhere nearby, the trickle of water splashed from the rain runoff. The crickets stopped their steady chirping when he eased past but picked it up again when he was still.

The occasional hum of a vehicle’s tires crunched out on the main road, and somewhere in the distance, sirens blared.

To his left, he heard the very slight noise of shuffled leaves, and he flicked his eyes that way to find Fisher, Link, and Eagle moving through the darkness.

They reached him and settled in to see what he was looking at. He’d only just reached this spot, so he wasn’t looking at much.

“We ran across Hunter,” Link whispered.

“Is he good?” Seven growled, but he made damned sure it wasn’t audible to anyone who wasn’t close.

“Yup, he’s stubborn and insisted we come help you and Jaxon,” Fisher murmured.

Seven wanted to ask where Solomon was, but he didn’t want to continue talking, which might get them noticed.

The slight noises of the warehouse district continued, but from the men around him, crouched in the waiting darkness, there was only silence. He knew each and every single one of them were completely focused on the safe house.

With no sign of movement since he’d arrived in the stand of trees, he eased upright.

“Ready?” Link whispered.

“Fuck yeah,” Fisher answered.

Seven took off from the cover of trees, running through the rain across the damp leaves and toward the safe house building. Malcolm’s men had shot out the lights surrounding the place, so he didn’t worry about getting shot. Fisher was fast and quickly moved out in front of the rest of them.

Running to the side of the back corner where Fisher waited, Seven slipped behind the building with Fisher on his ass. Link and Eagle went the other way to cover the opposite side. They’d try and sandwich this son of a bitch between them and end this shit.

A crack sounded just before a bullet hit the stucco near his head, sending pieces flying. Seven turned his face away briefly to avoid chunks of debris. Dropping low, he and Fisher were gone from the spot in seconds, sinking into the darkness near an industrial-sized trash can.

The vehicle sirens grew closer and stopped several warehouses from where they were now. The sirens cut off and Seven hoped the EMTs could help Solomon.

Someone opened fire at something or someone ahead of them and Seven jerked his head. Fisher followed when he crept out and slipped along the face of the metal can to the other side.

From here, Seven could just barely make out Jaxon with his shoulder-length hair hanging loose—pinned down behind an SUV, firing a weapon into the trees.

“Jaxon,” Seven hissed. He let his voice carry across the short distance between them. He sure as hell didn’t want Jaxon shooting them.

Jaxon slid him a look and jerked his head to come over.

Seven eased up next to the bodyguard and crouched behind the same vehicle. Fisher took up a spot on the opposite side of Jaxon, all taking cover behind the SUV.

“Where’s Stone?” Seven murmured, checking the clip on his Glock.

“That fucker out there shot him.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, but he’s got a bullet in his leg.”

“Fuck, we are so dead,” Fisher said.

“I’m sorry, but I can handle whoever the fuck is out there,” Jaxon growled, and Seven heard the derision in the words.

“I wasn’t talking about that guy.” Fisher gestured to the trees on the other side of the SUV. “I mean Dave is going to kill us,” Fisher finished.

Jaxon grunted but didn’t disagree.

“Where is he?” If Stone was here, he was hiding well.

“I put him next to my truck.” Jaxon jerked his head toward the far end of the building where another parking lot sat. “Where’s Hunter?”

“He tweaked his ankle. Link and Eagle are coming around the other side of the warehouse,” Seven said.

When another round of bullets suddenly pinged the vehicle, Seven had had enough.

“Fuck this,” he said before lunging up and sending several rounds into the trees where the last shot had come from. After firing, Seven was gone. Sprinting around the side of the SUV, he flew across the few feet to the edge of the trees and vanished. Jaxon stood and fired two loud-ass shots from the compact shotgun, and it sounded like Fisher emptied his clip. Both men were on his ass, but Seven didn’t wait.

The trees closed in around him and while the rain had stopped to a drizzle, it made it nearly impossible to hear anything, but it wasn’t impossible to see nor track. And tracking was something he was very fucking good at.

Seven waited and then eased forward. He stilled between two aspen and watched the darkest part of the shadows. Jaxon and Fisher fanned out on either side of him, but Seven still waited. He knew that if Fisher or Jaxon got close to the gunman, the guy would have no choice but to shoot and move. Right on cue, gunfire echoed and both Jaxon and Fisher dropped low.

Ah. There it was, that tiny bit of movement.

“Got you, motherfucker,” Seven murmured and fired.

Snick, snick, snick.

The figure stumbled, stepped forward, and slumped to the ground.

“I’ll check, he may have a vest,” Fish said and crept closer while he and Jaxon provided cover.

“He’s dead.”

Seven let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and turned toward the safe house just in time to see Hunter limping along the far corner of the building and then disappear.

“Where’s Stone again?” Seven stalked through the trees and out into the parking lot.

“The way Hunter just went,” Jaxon said, following him.

Fisher stayed behind to clean up.

Rounding the corner, Seven saw Stone crawl out of the bed of Jaxon’s truck. As soon as his feet were on the ground, someone opened fire. A bullet hit Stone in the chest and he went down hard.

“Stone!” Hunter cried.

Seven pulled his other gun and with both of his weapons, he fired into the trees. Jaxon stepped up beside him and instead of using the shotgun, the bodyguard fired with a Glock. The barrage of bullets hit the trees and hit their mark. A body dropped to the ground and slowly rolled down the small incline to rest at the edge of the asphalt.

Jogging over, Seven checked the shooter’s neck. The man was dead, but Seven suspected it was too late to save Stone and all he could think of was…

Thank God it hadn’t been Hunter.