8. CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 8
From the moment Weston realized there was someone with a gun in town, every part of him wanted nothing more than to go to Leandro and hold him until he was certain his Omega was safe. Stupid? Definitely. He knew better than to even momentarily believe Leandro couldn’t protect himself.
Yet, that wasn’t exactly the reason he’d felt the urge to wrap his Omega up. It was because he was falling for Leandro and just wanted to do everything in his power to keep him safe. That he was an Omega was irrelevant to Weston. Not that Leandro would ever trust that to have been true. He was far too stubborn.
But the moment Weston laid eyes on Leandro, there was no stopping him from holding the man who currently owned his heart. When those soft lips clung to his in a kiss that had his toes curling, Weston was certain he’d died and gone to heaven.
For a moment, he’d honestly thought he was exactly where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. In some ways, it was. That was until he heard it. The cry of a hawk, their signal for trouble. His entire body froze for a millisecond before he broke the kiss and pushed Leandro toward the truck.
“Load up,” he called out softly enough that only a few of them would hear it, and not anyone in the surrounding woods.
Griggs was already running for his truck while Oxley got on the horse. It was faint, but he could hear Basel’s footfalls as he raced down the steps of the watchtower. Grabbing Leandro’s hand, Weston yanked him forward to their own truck.
Just as they shut the doors, they heard the hawk call from Kelce’s direction three times. That meant there was no time to wait. They had to get the hell out of there.
Weston had got his window down just as Basel threw open his own door and jumped into the other truck next to Griggs. “Separate. One horse with each vehicle. We’ll travel for a full day before meeting up.”
Both trucks were thrown into gear, and they were off. They didn’t worry about debris but still had to do their best to maneuver around potholes or risk getting stuck. Still, they were at least a mile down the road before he saw Kelce emerge onto the road. Ever the tactician and hunter, he didn’t follow their convoy.
Instead, Kelce raced across the road and headed west, hoping to lead the enemy away from them. Weston hated putting one of their own in that kind of danger, but until they knew what was happening, there had been little any of them could do.
“Watch the road for me,” he barked out a little too aggressively, but Leandro didn’t argue as Weston watched the rearview mirror. Not only was he checking to see if anyone was following them, but he also wanted to get an idea of how many were pursuing Kelce.
Neither was good. Five broke off to chase after them, although based on how they were riding their horses into the ground, they wouldn’t last long. Then again, neither would Kelce if they’d been chasing him for a long time. After that, he counted approximately ten others who continued after Kelce.
No matter how they looked at it, the scenario wasn’t in their favor. Griggs had already peeled off toward the northeast while they were headed northwest.
“If we go too far north, we’ll end up in Canada,” Leandro reminded him.
Weston knew that, but at that point, they had to get as far from the other ten attackers as possible. Opening his window, he signaled to Oxley that they had the enemy on their tail. Not that it was necessary since less than thirty seconds later, shots were fired in their direction.
It was a waste of bullets since they weren’t close enough to hit them, but in Weston’s fbook, it was a win because it would mean they might run out of bullets at some point—not that he planned on letting it get that far.
The moment they turned down another deeply rutted road where their pursuers couldn’t see them, Oxley took off south through the woods. He would do his best to pick them off when they made the turn while hiding amongst the trees, which would have been easier if it hadn’t been so late in the year and many of them were completely bare.
Oxley’s only real advantage was the pine that grew heavily in the area. But they needed to help. “I need you to crawl in the back seat of the truck, open the window enough to get your rifle through, and shoot anyone who comes close enough to hit.”
Leandro once more didn’t argue. He scrambled into the backseat and grabbed the long-range rifle and a box of ammo they had on the floor. He most likely wouldn’t need more yet, as there were only five of them, and the odds were some of them followed Griggs and Basel.
Of the six of them on this trip, Kelce was the best shot with a handgun and their best hunter and survivalist. The man had a knack for living out in the woods that would rival just about anyone Weston had ever met. But Basel was their number one long-range shooter. The man could hit a squirrel through the woods at five hundred yards. Whoever was stupid enough to follow them was toast even if they didn’t know it yet.
Leandro, on the other hand, was…well, okay. He did fairly well at a hundred yards, but the target rarely moved. They would mostly have to depend on Oxley.
Even though they agreed to radio silence, it was obvious Griggs had seen what Weston had in the review mirror and knew they needed to help Kelce before he got killed or captured. “Targets dead” were the two words that came over the walkie-talkie. “Back to base.” This meant they would head toward Weston’s group to come up with a game plan to find and help Kelce.
As much as he didn’t want to keep communicating, Weston needed them to find a safe place to regroup. Hitting the button on the walkie-talkie, he said, “Hidey hole.”
The enemy would have no idea what any of it meant, he hoped, but he knew Griggs would. Search the maps they had and find them a place to stop.
Three shots echoed behind them. Knowing Oxley, at least two, if not all, three shots killed. The man wasn’t as good as Basel and Kelce, but he was damn good with any weapon.
His ears rang when Leandro suddenly fired. “I don’t think he’s dead, but he fell off the horse,” Leandro shouted over his shoulder since there was no point in keeping quiet with gunfire going off.
“Oxley will make certain he’s dead before joining us.” He hoped. For all he knew, one of the three shots from earlier had gotten Oxley. They would have to slow down and possibly turn around to find out. He would leave none of them behind if they could be saved.
“Oxley has him. He’s tying him up,” Leandro called out.
That was Weston’s cue to stop and back the hell up. If they could get information about who lived in Sandpoint, they needed to interrogate the guy.
Two minutes later, they were idling just in front of Oxley and the man he had hogtied who was screaming at them about gutting them and all sorts of fun torture. Not wanting to listen to it, Weston did something he wasn’t exactly proud of, but figured the guy deserved it for coming after them; he kicked him in the nuts.
Other than the painful scream it elicited, it had shut him the fuck up.
“Ouch. I mean, I know he had it coming, but damn Wes, was it necessary to go there?” Oxley joked as he cupped his groin protectively.
Leandro, on the other hand, had his knife out and at the man’s throat. Tiny amounts of blood were seeping down the guy's neck as Leandro dug the edge of the blade deeper. “You have one chance to tell us how many are down there.”
The idiot spat at Leandro and told him, “I don’t take orders from Omegas.”
Faster than he thought Leandro could move, the knife went from his neck to the man’s groin, the pointy side cutting through the material of his jeans. Based on the blood that now soaked the clothing and the insolent Alpha’s blood-curdling scream, he dug that knife in fairly deeply.
“I warned you,” Leandro sneered. “You know, I’ve never been captured by Alpha assholes like you, but I’ve heard the stories from those who have. The torture you felt was your right to inflict.”
After that initial taunt, Leandro’s voice had become calm and matter-of-fact, which considering what he was saying was scarier than fuck. Both Weston and Oxley had taken a step back and were covering their groins as if afraid Leandro would only see Alphas and attack them, too.
“Now you’re my prisoner, and I plan to let you experience all the fun you were having while mutilating and raping those Omegas.” In some ways, Weston wanted to pull Leandro back and talk some sense into him. Yet, knowing what men like this guy had done to others, he was willing to let it play out.
Was that wrong? His moral compass said it was. But the side of him who’d watched for years the heinous crimes men like this guy had inflicted, he couldn’t deny there was a huge part of him that wanted to see him suffer.
“Now, for every insult, this knife goes deeper,” Leandro warned by digging in just a bit more. “Based on the angle of the blade, too many insults and you will lose your dick and balls very quickly. What kind of Alpha will you be then?” Another taunt, which admittedly was quite effective, as the man started babbling.
“There is thirty of us, but only twenty are currently there,” he rushed to say, moaning the whole time. “Ten went with a shipment of Omegas down the river to the next camp.”
“How many men came after us?” Leandro demanded more than he asked.
“Ten.” The Alpha was crying and doing his best not to scream as he panted through the pain since Leandro refused to remove his knife.
“Does that mean there are only ten there now?” his Omega asked.
“Yes,” the Alpha groaned out.
“Where are they?” Weston asked. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“They’re in a bomb shelter in the basement of the town hall.” Each word was stilted, as the man was in too much pain to easily speak. “There is no way to communicate with them. They don’t even know we left.”
Weston could spot a lie when he saw one, and he considered saying something, but he figured it wouldn’t really matter. As strong as Leandro was at the moment, he feared his Omega would break down once this was over. Leandro might be brave and willing to do what had to be done, but his Omega was far sweeter than he pretended to be.
The scream that came from the Alpha reminded him not to underestimate Leandro. “You know a lie is like an insult. It will only make this knife go deeper.”
“Sorry…sorry…I just…” The Alpha was openly sobbing at that point. “All the cameras in town are broadcast to the bunker. They were the ones who saw your men sneaking around.”
Leandro pulled his knife free, which caused another scream as blood now poured over the man’s groin, stomach, and thighs. Then he turned to Weston and looked right into his eyes for a moment. Just as Weston had thought, grief clouded those light blue eyes, turning them almost gray.
Then he walked to the truck and got in. Weston glanced at Oxley, who gave him a nod before Weston slid behind the steering wheel and took off. They didn’t hear a gunshot, but Oxley wasn’t one to waste a bullet when his knife would do just fine. The point was that the Alpha was dead, and they had the information they needed.
If only it would be that simple to get Leandro through the guilt that would plague him.