CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - BIRDIE #3
Once we’re standing on the roof, I look around for more bad guys, but all I can see is the blood on the snow. Colt follows my gaze and rubs his boot over the smear. “Taking out the trash, I see.”
I gulp and lean on him as he leads me over to the chimney. “I didn’t know how many were coming. I couldn’t see anything from that damn window.”
He grimaces. “Yeah, we were swimming in assholes there for a bit. Guess Reeves is more paranoid than we thought.”
Colt has anchored a rope and harness to the chimney.
He fits the harness, and wrapping his arms around my waist, steps off the roof with a grin.
I try not to squeal as he rappels down the side of the house like the elite soldier he is.
But maybe he hears my heart thumping because he whispers in my ear, “Nervous, little bird? I thought you were a pro at escaping off rooftops.”
I wrap my arms around him a little tighter. “I am. And I have complete faith in your ability to haul my ass around and not break it.”
“It my life’s mission,” he tells me with only a hint of teasing.
When we reach the ground, he slips out of the harness and pulls his gun. I look around, counting four dead bodies near the porch and another three over near the treeline. “That’s a lot of assholes.”
Colt grins and back me towards the safety of the porch. “Doing our bit for the world.”
“Hog and Axel?”
“They’re okay.” He looks down at my pale face, and the glitter in his eyes softens. “Hey, we’re all okay. I promise.”
I nod, but I can’t resist throwing my arms around him and squeezing him tight. I only pull back when I feel something wet on his bicep and I stare at my bloody palm in horror. “But... you’re bleeding!”
“It's just a scratch.”
“Colt!” I fume. I know he’s been in a lot of war zones, but now’s not the time to tough it out. “We have to get you to a doctor.”
“You can kiss it better later.” He curls his non-injured arm around my shoulders. “We just have to wait here for the signal.”
“Which is?”
A gunshot rings out, the muffled crack echoing in the air. A moment later, a body rolls and thumps off the roof to land a few feet away in the melting snow. Colt nods his approval. “That’s the last one.”
I look around uneasily. “How do you know?”
“Hog’s eagle eye. I told you that once the big guy gets his bead on someone, it takes a lot to make him blink.”
I prefer when that eye is on me, but if that really is the last of Reeves’ goons, then I appreciate Hog’s thoroughness. That’ll teach Reeves to bring more assholes the next time he goes up against the Lawson Pack.
Not that we plan on there being a next time.
I’m still fussing over Colt’s arm when Hog walks out of the woods, his rifle over his arm.
He looks like he’s just been out for a stroll, but as his gaze meets mine, I feel the thrum of connection all the way across the clearing.
My mating bite tingles, and I don’t even try to stop myself running towards him like some lovesick omega in a shampoo commercial.
When I’m close enough to see the smile under his beard, I launch at him.
He might be armed and dangerous, but he also has the reflexes of a jungle cat.
Somehow, he manages to get his rifle in his back holster and catch me before I land on my ass.
I clutch him like my life depends on it, and I feel a tremor go through his body as he clasps me just as tightly.
Once the relief fades from his honey brown eyes, I tug his beard. “Do you have any idea how scorching hot you are, Alpha?”
He gives a soft rumbling laugh and accepts my kiss. It’s fast and a little aggressive, but I’ve still got a lot of adrenaline humming in my body. “No, but I’m happy for you to convince me, Birdie.”
I thought it would take the guys a while to warm back up to my chosen name, but Hog rolls it over his tongue like it’s his favorite flavor of candy.
I tug his beard again, kissing him slower this time, so I can taste every inch of his mouth. “I plan on convincing you so hard, you’ll be dripping with conviction.”
“Sign me up,” he rumbles, then slowly runs his gaze over me, like he hasn’t been obsessively watching me through his rifle scope. “Any of them touch you, Omega?”
If Death ever announced itself, it would sound just like Hog when he’s asking after my wellbeing during a gunfight.
“Not even with their questionable charm,” I quip, hugging him tighter. If he didn’t see that guy I shot through the window, we can argue technicalities later. “You smell like gun oil and retribution.”
His face turns grim and he clasps my hand as we stride back to the cabin. “We’re not done yet.”
“But Colt said that was the last one.”
“Let’s go inside,” he says as we reach the porch. Colt is grinning at us, and Hog pauses to clap him on the shoulder, scowling at his bloody bicep. “Sorry I didn’t get that asshole before he cut you.”
“Cut you?” I whirl on Colt, outraged. “With a knife? Point out the motherfucker and I’ll kick him in the nuts.”
“Didn’t really get a look at his face,” Colt replies with a happy shrug. “Would it have been better if I was shot?”
“A smidge,” I admit. “Shooting someone is less personal.”
Colt pauses to step over one of Reeves’ goons, a red smear where his head used to be. “Not the way Hog does it.”
I pull a face, but it dissolves into a relieved smile when Axel strides towards us, looking as squared-away as ever. He nods to his packmates then pulls me into a tight embrace, his lips buzzing over my hair. “You smell like blood.”
“Not mine.” I point at Colt, feeling a little like I’m snitching to dad. “One of them stabbed Colt!”
“Motherfucker,” he mutters, and I smile, vindicated. “You take care of him?”
Hog nods, then sniffs the air. “What about the fire? I saw one of them sneaking around with a jerry can, but he dumped the stuff before I could get a shot off.”
“Contained. It was mostly in the workshop and back part of the house.”
Hog just grunts, like the damage to his sanctuary doesn’t touch him. But I feel a spark of anger igniting under my ribs. They didn’t just come to capture me; they intended on burning the guys’ home to the ground.
Axel is asking about other injuries as I look over and notice a lump on the couch. Not a lump, I realize, but an alpha, his sickly sour scent spoiling the air. Even with a black hood over his head, I know who it is. “Reeves.”
The lump goes still at my voice, but Axel touches my arm. “You don’t have to be here for this.”
I’m already pulling away. “Yes, I do.”
I stride over to the couch and pull the bag off Reeves’ head. The first glimpse of the doctor is shocking, given that both of his eyes are swollen and his bottom lip is dripping blood. I look back at Axel and realize his knuckles are bruised. Guess he got started before the rest of us.
“Pretty pet,” Reeves says suddenly, drawing my attention back to him. “Look at you, off your leash.”
I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but Hog steps forward and grabs him by the throat.
Reeves makes a choking sound, but Hog looks like he’s testing cantaloupes in the grocery store as he pulls a plastic bag out of his pocket and shakes it open.
“Like I said,” he mutters as he fits the bag over Reeves’ head, “let’s see how he likes the plastic variety. ”
I gape at him, but my expression isn’t nearly as shocked as Reeves’.
His eyes bulge out of his head and he jerks like he’s trying to throw himself on the floor.
It’s only then that I realize Axel has been busy with his zip ties, which probably explains why I was allowed to approach Reeves in the first place.
“Enough, Hog,” Axel says quietly, “we need answers.”
Hog grunts but pulls the bag off Reeves’ head and he sucks in as breath like his throat is on fire. I have to admit, it’s music to my ears, and I smirk as I stare into his battered face. “Just so you know, it’s going to hurt like a bitch to swallow.”
He glares at me, but there’s a thread of panic in his eyes as the alphas surround him.
Hog still has the plastic bag handy, but Colt has drawn a knife from somewhere and is tapping the blade against his thigh.
Menace rolls off them, but it’s the cloud of dominance coming from Axel that makes Reeves flinch back against the couch.
“Start with the location of your lab,” Axel says, his face settling into a cold mask. “I have a contact standing by to confirm your answer, so don’t try to bullshit us.”
Reeves doesn’t hesitate to rattle off an address, and Axel nods to Colt, who tucks the knife under his arm and taps it out on his cellphone.
Axel turns back to Reeves. “How closely was General Booth involved? Did he direct your work?”
Reeves regains a glimmer of his sneering arrogance. “No one directs my work. Booth is just a spineless bureaucrat with a budget.”
Hog grunts and shakes his head at him. “Then I guess the buck stops with you, asshole.”
Reeves shrinks away, but Axel leans forward and slaps his face.
I have to say, the squeal of pain the doctor makes is not the worst thing I’ve heard today.
“Tell us about this Broken Wing program. What’s the end objective?
And don’t give us any bullshit about pack rehabilitation. We know you messed with her scent.”