Chapter 36
Zane
Watching Les make out with Ryder on the dance floor made everything she said fall into place.
She’s in a relationship. With all of them.
How the fuck do I compete with that? The truth is, after watching how Les and Ryder were staring at each other, I know I can’t.
She had the same look with Gage and Leo, the same look she used to give me, but I was too fucking stupid to see it until now.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I storm out to get some fresh air, praying to everything that my date don’t follow me.
The only reason I came with her is that I knew Les would be here; I just needed to see her, as sad as that is.
Les has consumed my thoughts for seven years, making it impossible for me to find someone else.
I hooked up with women, but they all had one very similar quality.
Long black hair. Their eyes didn’t matter because I didn’t look at their face anyway.
That worked until I had Les back in sight, and none of that mattered.
I was determined to get Les back no matter what it took; now, I have at least three guys to compete with.
If I’m honest with myself, she’s probably with her whole crew, which makes that a grand total of five guys.
“Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand down my face.
I hear a familiar laugh, and like a siren’s call, I follow the sound until Les rounds the corner, surrounded by those assholes.
Ryder slides his hand down her back, cups her ass, and pats it when she climbs into the limo behind Gage.
I grind my teeth to dust. Ryder’s the bane of my fucking existence.
He always followed Les around like a little lost puppy, but that’s not what always pissed me off.
What pissed me off was Les wanted him there even when she was with me.
I knew that Ryder would be a problem if we ever took our relationship public.
The valet finally pulls around in my jacked-up black Chevy Silverado, looking way out of place between the limos and fancy cars.
My dad left me money when he died, a lot of fucking money, but I never touched it.
It sits in a savings account, drawing interest because I convinced myself it’s blood money.
I pull out onto the main road, one car behind the limo Les got into.
I should be the bigger man and just be happy that she looks happy, but fuck that.
She’s the only woman ever to capture my attention and keep it, even at eighteen.
Now she’s a woman and grew into the leader her dad knew she could be when he handed the torch over to her, the leader I knew she could be.
I never doubted that she would become the most powerful woman in the world, but she was convinced he would hand everything over to Micah and seemed okay with that fact.
Slowing down at the red light behind the car in front of me and Les’ limo, I’m so lost in my thoughts that I almost miss the SUVs roaring up to block the limo.
The one I have been following pulls closer to the back of the limo, and four guys pile out, holding fucking assault rifles.
I jerk my truck to the side of the road last minute, and they start opening fire, littering the limo with a hail of gunfire.
I jump out without hesitation, unsure of what I’m going to do; all I have with me is my service weapon.
I had enough sense to grab it when I jumped out of the truck but was obviously not smart enough to avoid jumping into an ambush to save the one woman who loathes my very existence.
Fuck! My heart is pounding out of my chest, knowing they killed everyone in that limo, including Les.
There is no way they didn’t with that much firepower.
I swallow the panic and duck behind the row of cars lining the side of the street.
The limo rolls forward into the SUV in front of it, and I know the driver’s been hit.
Fuck fuck fuck!!!
I don’t think; I just act. I pull my weapon and aim at the passenger side window, pulling the trigger to shatter it.
Cars this new locked when in drive, and I need in that car now.
I jerk open the door, and the driver is lying on the steering wheel, blood pouring from his mouth.
I send up an apology when I lean into the car, open the driver's side door, then shove him out; all the while, bullets are whizzing past my head. I can feel one slice right through the arm of my tux jacket and hiss at the pain, but there isn’t any time to check.
It’s completely silent behind the partition, and I have to swallow bile, the image of Les’ body littered with bullets running through my head at Mach speed.
I slam the driver’s door and cram the car into reverse, slamming my foot on the gas and jerking the wheel to the right.
It hits the SUV behind us with a lurch; shifting into drive, I smash into the SUV in front of us.
One more time in reverse, I can swing the huge limo onto the road so I can make a getaway, almost taking out a small sedan.
I floor it and don’t stop until I know we aren’t being followed.
There’s no way I can outrun SUVs in a limo that is swaying like crazy just with a slight turn of the wheel.
After five minutes of no headlights, I finally jerk the car into a parking lot.
I take several steadying breaths before I lower the partition, waiting for the worst. I finally steel myself and turn around in the seat.
They have all managed to fit in the floorboard, Ryder and Dex laying over Les. Gage and who I assume is Leo are further to the back, Gage’s body protectively over his. I can see blood on the little piece of Les’ dress I can see.
Ryder’s head finally lifts, and his eyes instantly harden when they meet mine. “What the fuck?” he growls.
I don’t spare him a second when Les lifts her blue eyes to mine. “Zane?” she whispers, and all the air whooshes out of me at once.
“Hey, Beautiful,” I greet through the panic that I’m still trying to squash down, thinking she was dead. “Is everyone okay?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ryder explodes, helping Les to sit up. He sees the blood, and all focus goes to her. “Il mio sole,” he says, his hands fluttering around her in panic.
“I’m fine, Ryder,” she says softly, grabbing one of his hands. “It’s from the glass.” Her eyes dart between the rest of them, lighting on a very pale-looking Leo. The rest of them look fine. “Leo?”
He groans in pain, and Gage is instantly on his knees. “Are you hit?” he asks, looking Leo over. When Gage jerks Leo’s jacket open, blood is soaking through his white shirt at an alarming rate. I jerk the car into drive and swing back onto the road.
“Where are you going?” Dex rumbles, sticking his head through the partition, looking just as pissed as Ryder.
“The hospital,” I answer like he’s a fucking idiot. His guy is bleeding out; where does he think I’m going?
“No hospitals. Take us to the house,” Les answers, worry evident in her voice. “Leo?” she says softly.
“Hey, Baby,” he says but groans in pain again.
“Zane’s not going to the fucking house,” Ryder interjects.
“We don’t have a choice,” she barks, then looks into the rearview mirror at me, her eyes begging. “The house, Zane. We have a doctor on standby.”
I jerk a nod and swing the car in the other direction, racing against the clock.
I know the Poletti’s have a doctor on standby and a fully stocked room in the back of that house that will have anything they need.
Hospitals ask questions they can’t answer, and now they have a detective driving a getaway car.
If Leo needs surgery, though, that will be a different story.
I drive as fast as the car can go, listening to Les and Gage whisper to Leo, begging him to stay awake. I can hear Ryder and Dex relaying everything that happened on their phones.
I swipe a hand down my face. I’m about to be in a house full of criminals as a detective, and if the look in Ryder’s eyes says anything, a dead detective. It looks suspicious as hell even to me that I’m the one who rolled down that window. No way in hell they’ll believe I just saved their asses.
I pull the car up to the gate, and it swings open at the sight of the bullet-ridden limo, and I can see all of the guards jerking to attention, running toward the house.
I put the car in park in front of the house.
“I will deal with you later,” Ryder warns before shoving open the door.
“He doesn’t leave,” he says to Dex, who jerks a nod, leveling me with those creepy grey eyes.
I step out of the car and stay out of the way. Gage helps Les out of the other side, keeping an arm tight around her waist with Dex standing protectively behind her.
Ryder leans back into the car. “I’m sorry, man. This is going to hurt like a motherfucker,” he says to Leo.
“I can help you,” I say dryly.
“You can fuck off,” he growls back.
I watch through the window as he puts Leo’s arm around his neck and, as gently as possible, wiggles Leo to the open door with his arm around his back and under his knees.
“Hold your breath,” he warns before lifting Leo out of the car.
The scream that rips out of Leo makes me sick to my stomach, and my eyes lurch to the pained sound Les makes hearing it.
Tears are pouring down her face, and Gage doesn’t look much better.
“Fuck,” Ryder breathes. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
I’m just shocked that Ryder has a soft bone in his body, especially helping a guy dating the girl he’s been in love with forever.
Leo’s head lolls on Ryder’s shoulder as he strides into the front door, everyone filing in behind them. “Just don’t drop me, asshole.”
Ryder barks a laugh. “Should have let your ungrateful ass bleed out in the car.”
Leo chuckles, then groans in pain again, causing Ryder to pick up the pace, Les hot on his heels.
He rushes him to the back of the house through a door held open by a very concerned-looking redhead.
He gently lays him on a hospital-type gurney and steps back.
Les rummages around, pulls out a pair of scissors, and walks back over to him.
“Docs on the way,” she assures him. “I need to get your clothes off.”
She cuts through the arms of his jacket, letting it fall open underneath him, then does the same to the center and arms of his dress shirt with the precision of a doctor.
She lays the sharp shears beside him and then gently peels his shirt off the wound, all the blood soaking through, causing it to stick to his skin.
She chokes back a sob when she sees the huge wound and the look on his face.
A tall guy with salt and pepper hair bustles in still in his flannel pajamas, a shorter blonde woman following behind him.
He doesn’t waste any time snapping gloves on and looking closely at the wound, palpitating around it, causing Leo to groan in pain again.
“It looks like it ripped straight through.” He looks up at me, and I notice it’s Doc Sorenson.
The same doctor who took care of this family for years and his wife.
“Detective Ayers,” he greets politely before looking back at Les; I don’t miss the what the fuck look.
“I need to scrub up, and I need the room. Loretta will get an IV started for fluids, and he’ll need blood.
” Loretta hands him several thick gauze pads that he shoves against the wound.
“Do you know your blood type, son?” he asks Leo.
“B-positive,” he whispers well on his way to passing out.
Evander and Mateo bust into the room, looking like they ran to get here. They rush to Leo’s side. “Hey, brother,” Evander says, gripping his hand tight.
Loretta bustles to the refrigerator I know is stocked frequently with blood bags.
She digs relentlessly, then looks at her husband.
“There is none.” I can tell by the tone of her voice that Leo doesn’t have much time.
“Any of you guys a match?” They all shake their heads looking more and more worried by the second.
Internally kicking myself again, I step forward. “I am.” Leo doesn’t mean shit to me. I can let him die, and one less person will be standing in my way, but the relief on Les’ face is worth it.
“What’s your play here, Zane?” Ryder growls, taking a step toward me, Les steps in front of him.
“Not now,” she begs, then looks at me. “Thank you.”
I shrug out of my tux jacket, remembering the graze from those assholes. I test my arm, and it seems fine. I’ve had worse.
“Zane, you’re bleeding,” Les says, actually sounding worried. In my fucking dreams. She’s probably just concerned I won’t have enough blood to save her little boyfriend.
“It’s just a graze,” I tell her. Her eyes still look worried for me, giving me the slightest hope that she might still care.
“Sit, sit.” Loretta bustles over, leading me to a chair. “Doc needs everyone else out.” She shoos her hands.
Les kisses Leo’s sweaty forehead. “I’ll be right outside.”
He weakly nods, and she leans down, whispering something in his ear that relaxes his face.
They all lead her out of the room, glaring at me on the way by.
You’re welcome. The door shuts behind them, and Loretta walks up, holding a wicked-looking needle.
I lay my head back on the wall so I don’t have to watch. I fucking hate needles.
Why am I doing this again?