Chapter 14
Cross coughed up a mouthful of filthy river water and clawed his way up the muddy bank.
Every inch of him screamed in protest. His right side throbbed like it had been set on fire, the flesh wound burning with the effort to drag himself out of the bayou.
His head spun, and the copper tang of blood lingered in his mouth.
The early morning air was thick with mist, cool against his fevered skin, but heavy with the smell of rotting vegetation and old death.
He collapsed on his back, gasping, blinking up at the gray haze above the canopy.
Drew was gone, and it was his fault. He’d gotten sloppy after seeing the Weasel go down like that.
He’d let his mind wander and lost focus.
In truth, he’d been worried that the Weasel wasn’t dead and he was going to come back at any minute, so he’d been rushing.
It didn’t help that Stone and Tessa needed him.
Cross breathed deeply. His body might be here, barely hanging on, but his soul—the one sliver of light he’d ever let himself have—was in that goddamn car speeding away with a bastard who held a gun to her head.
He should have stopped it. Should’ve anticipated the move. Should’ve taken the fucking shot. But he hadn’t. He didn’t want to risk her getting hurt. And now she was gone.
He turned his face to the side and vomited, and then dry heaving until his ribs ached and his eyes watered.
Guilt was a goddamn poison—worse than any bullet.
He rolled to his knees and spit into the mud, pressing a hand against the wound on his side.
Sticky. Warm. Still oozing blood. He’d live.
Probably. But right now, he didn’t deserve to.
The trees swayed overhead, almost as if they were whispering taunts at him. The swamp felt heavier now. Darker. Like it knew he’d failed and was grieving with him. Or mocking him.
Stone. Tessa. He needed to get to them. His heart stuttered.
They were out there, waiting on him. Counting on him.
And he was here bleeding in the goddamn mud like a rookie who hadn’t seen a fight before.
He forced himself to his feet, swayed, then caught a tree for balance.
The bark bit into his palm. He welcomed the pain.
It meant he was still alive. Still had time.
"Move," he growled under his breath. "You don’t get to fall apart. Not yet." Drew was already too far away for him to do anything at this moment. He needed to concentrate on what he could do… Not what he couldn’t. Focus on the task ahead of him.
He limped forward, one hand clutched against his side, the other dragging through vines and low-hanging moss.
The ground squelched beneath his feet, every step a test of will.
His boots were soaked, squishing with brackish water, and his jeans stuck to his legs like a second skin.
Every mosquito in the goddamn state of Louisiana seemed to have scented his blood and declared him the buffet of the day.
He stumbled and dropped to one knee, coming face-to-face with a cottonmouth. Shit. He tried to jump back, but he was too slow. The snake lunged at him, sinking his fangs into Cross’s leg and then just as quickly slithering off into the undergrowth.
“Motherfucker,” Cross snarled as a sharp burning pain radiated up his calf.
It was like someone pressed a hot iron to his skin.
He pulled up his pant leg to see the double puncture wound that was already swelling.
A wave of adrenaline hit Cross. He had to keep moving.
Even though he knew that moving would just spread the poison through his bloodstream faster, he was on the clock, and he didn’t have much time.
Cross gritted his teeth as he started up the embankment.
The pain in his calf was now a deep, brutal burn as if his muscle was tearing apart.
The swelling was making his pant leg tight around his calf, adding to his pain.
He reached out, grabbed a branch, and hauled himself upward as the first wave of nausea hit.
He wasn’t sure if it was from the bullet wound, the venom, or the exertion, but his heart was double-timing it in his chest, and dark spots flickered around the edge of his vision.
The minutes blurred as he finally got to the top of the embankment and stumbled out to the road. His car was parked at least a mile down in the other direction from the way the guy had taken off with Drew. It killed him but he turned and started moving as quickly as he could manage.
He knew the bite on his calf had at least doubled in size and it burned like it was on fire.
The throbbing was now up in his thigh. Not a good sign.
He blew out a breath as sweat broke out across his back and chest, the cold clammy type that only made his nausea worse.
He stumbled but forced himself to keep going.
Drew was counting on him. He’d gotten her into this mess.
He couldn’t afford to fail now. He’d failed Drew once when he let her go. He would not do it again.
He stumbled again and had to stop and brace his hands on his knees while he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He had to keep moving. Drew was depending on him. Cursing under his breath, he surged forward once more, fighting the growing buzz in his ears and his narrowing vision.
Time seemed to have all but stopped as he finally lifted his head and saw what he was looking for. The sight of his truck parked where he’d left it—camouflaged under an overhang of brush—was like a beacon. He staggered toward it, catching himself on the hood, leaving a smear of blood behind.
Almost there.
Fumbling for the handle, he wrenched the door open and climbed inside, collapsing into the driver’s seat with a strangled sound.
His vision tunneled, black eating in from the edges.
His breathing was ragged and shallow as his heart stuttered in his chest. Pain radiated through his leg along with a deep and crushing pressure.
He tried to reach for the spare sat phone he kept in the glove box.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Just one more thing.” His fingers brushed it, then slipped. He lunged, half-falling out of the seat, and finally grasped it. He slumped back and made the call.
“Where are you?” Stone demanded by way of answering.
“Just got…”
Stone’s tone changed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“They got Drew. Took her…” his voice faded again.
“Are you okay?”
“Got shot. Not too bad but fell in the river and had to climb through the swamp. Got bitten by a cottonmouth.”
“Shit,” Stone growled. “Are you at your truck?”
“Yeah. You? Tessa? Okay?” It was all he could manage to get out.
“We’re fine. I got help from a friend. We’re safe, but we need to move.”
“Okay…” Cross’s voice cut out. He was trying to stay with Stone, but the world had tilted, and everything was spinning.
“Cross? Cross?” Stone yelled his name, but Cross didn’t have the energy to respond.
The snake bite wasn’t helped by being grazed by a bullet.
He tried to form the words to tell Stone he was okay, but he couldn’t get them out.
Suddenly, as if his body had tapped out of adrenaline, everything hurt.
His head, his side, his entire body. He tried to stay alert, but it was no use.
He slumped forward against the steering wheel, unconscious before he hit the horn.
Cross woke to the sharp scent of antiseptic and the low hum of machines. A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes, thudding in time with his heartbeat. For a second, he couldn’t move—his limbs felt heavy, his skin burning in patches like someone had taken steel wool to him.
The swamp.
Drew.
His eyes snapped open. He tried to sit up but a firm hand on his chest stopped him. “Easy,” Stone said, leaning over him. His shoulder was bandaged, but he looked otherwise intact—alert, steady. Alive.
“You’re in a clinic just outside Houma,” Stone added. “Private. Off-grid. Courtesy of Savvy’s contacts.”
Cross licked his lips. His throat felt like sandpaper. “Drew—”
McGuire appeared at his side, arms crossed, expression like granite. “We’re going to get her back. But you need to chill for a damn second before you end up with more than a swamp infection and a cracked skull. That cottonmouth bite damn near killed you, so just take a minute.”
“How bad is it?” Cross asked.
“You have a mild concussion. You’ve also got some nasty bacteria hitchhiking in your bloodstream.
That swamp water would rot you from the inside out if left unchecked, never mind the snake venom,” Stone said grimly.
“Doc’s got you on IV antibiotics and fluids.
You were almost DOA when Rick found you passed out in the car, and you’re not out of the woods yet. ”
Cross scrubbed a hand down his face and winced. Everything hurt. “Fucking cottonmouth.” He shook his head and then instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea hit him. He glanced down at the sheet that covered his leg.
McGuire grunted. “You don’t want to see it. Believe me. The doc said it will heal, but it’s going to be damn ugly for a while. She also said you have a nasty ding on your arm from where you got shot.”
Cross nodded and then immediately regretted it.
“Yeah. I think I got it when we were fighting with the Weasel.” Or was it after?
Goddamn poison in his system was making him fuzzy.
Wait…he’d been shot when those assholes had grabbed Drew…
hadn’t he? Frustrated, he knocked his head back against the pillow.
“What happened to him?” Stone asked as he sat down on the empty bed next to Cross. Frankie settled beside him.
“Gator got him in the end. At least I think that’s what happened. Pulled him under, and I didn’t see him get back up. But we didn’t linger.” He gave a small shrug, which also made him wince. “We might never know for sure what happened to the Weasel.
“We had to go overland and through the swamp after that since the Weasel shot holes in our boat, so I guess that’s when it happened.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “What day is it?”
“Still the same one,” McGuire said. “Barely.”
Cross let his head fall back against the pillow but opened his eyes. “We have to go after her. Now.”
“You’ll go after her when you can stand without listing like a sinking barge,” came a woman’s voice from across the room.
Tessa stepped forward, arms crossed, a manila folder tucked beneath one arm.
Her strawberry-blond hair was pulled back, face scrubbed clean, gaze razor sharp.
“We have to assume she’s in Miami,” she said.
“With the Weasel out of the way, Rodriguez will want to operate from territory he controls. He won’t keep her out in the open bayou—not when his operation depends on leverage and protection. ”
Cross’s jaw tensed. “You sound awfully sure.”
Tessa gave him a measured look. “I’ve dealt with men like Rodriguez. Territory is everything. He’ll want control.”
She said it with confidence, but Cross detected something that she wasn’t saying.
He glanced at Stone, who gave him a tiny nod.
Stone knew it too. If Tessa wasn’t Dane’s sister they would’ve confronted her already.
Something about her story didn’t totally add up, and they all knew it.
With Drew’s life on the line, Cross had no issues with pushing Tessa, but they could do it on the road. “Then let’s go.”
Cross started to rise again, but McGuire grabbed his arm and shoved him back down. “You’re not going anywhere until the Doc clears you. And even then, we don’t just go in loaded for bear.”
Patch entered then, all calm swagger and grit, a massive duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Savvy close behind. She offered Cross a small, sympathetic smile.
“We’ve got weapons, burner phones, and a few of Savvy’s magic tricks,” Patch said, setting the bag down with a heavy thump. “We’re good to move when you are.”
“I’m moving now,” Cross gritted.
“You are not,” McGuire countered. “We form a plan first. We figure out what Rodriguez wants with Drew—because this isn’t just about payback anymore.”
Stone turned to Tessa. “What’s so special about you that he kidnapped Drew to get you to come back? What does Rodriguez really want?”
Tessa froze.
All eyes turned toward her. Even the doc, who had just walked in with another bag of fluids, paused mid-step.
Frankie put her hand on Stone’s thigh, but he didn’t back off.
“You’ve been tight-lipped about your Miami op from day one.
You said you were working Rodriguez from the inside.
But that doesn’t explain why he’d burn half his network just to get you and, when that didn’t work, kidnap Drew to get to you.
This isn’t about cleaning up loose ends. Something much bigger is at stake.”
Tessa’s jaw clenched, and her gaze darted to Cross, then back to Stone.
Cross narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been dodging this question for weeks.”
Silence stretched out in the room.
Then finally, Tessa exhaled and said, “Fine. I’ll tell you the truth.”