Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(126)

Come on, Beau, get out of there.

Jasper and Jayk seem to be arguing as Jasper pulls Lucky’s limp body over his shoulders.

All of you, move your asses, I urge silently.

Jayk grabs Jasper’s rifle and nods at him, and I brace. They’re going to do it. They’re going to— Something bursts from the trees and takes off at a furious run. The figure is coated in blood and limping, but I’d recognize him anywhere. My heart stutters, and I fire behind him wildly, hoping to deter anyone from sticking their head out, trying to give him every spare second he can get. Jayk spots him too and turns around to join my flurry of shots, covering Beau—and covering Jasper, too, as he starts staggering toward the house with Lucky hanging heavy over his shoulders.

Bullets fly past Beau, and he begins to weave. Deciding Jayk has this for the moment, I grab the bazooka and settle it over my shoulder, lining up my sights.

Men have started to pull out of the trees from several directions, clearly deciding they have our men on the run. Beau clears the truck and keeps going, and Jayk runs backwards with him, firing in every direction. I grimace for a moment, deciding where to aim, when the barn groans.

My grimace turns into a dark, predatory grin.

Perfect.

I line up my shot and wait a few seconds, knowing timing is going to count here. I don’t want to take out our guys by accident. But when the hunters start pressing close to the barn, I fire.

It only takes moments. The fragile barn bursts open like a microwaved peach, spraying burning projectiles across the entire clearing, decimating the tree line in all directions and blasting out half the windows of Bristlebrook. I throw myself down as a plank of wood hurtles through my window and shatters the glass across the music room.

I push myself back up and grab my rifle, breathing hard. Sweat drips down my temples. The entire clearing is annihilated, a true apocalyptic wasteland, complete with fire and bodies and limbs. I spot someone pulling themselves to their feet and blast them down. Nothing else so much as twitches.

I scan the scene but can’t see my guys anywhere. That’s a good thing, given the extermination I’m looking at, but I hesitate, pulse pounding. I should stay put, keep covering from up here in case anyone is stupid enough to decide that this isn’t enough— in case there’s anyone left to make that decision—but that was a big blast, and I have no idea if Beau and the others were clear or not. And then there’s Lucky . . .

I grab a few grenades and my rifle and run downstairs, seeing the sitting room overturned and covered in sparkles of glass.

Lucky is sprawled behind two overturned couches, Jasper crouching over him.

“Where’s Beau, Jasper? And Jaykob?”

Jasper doesn’t even glance up, but I can see the raw terror in every move he makes. He rips open Lucky’s shirt, and blood makes it stick slickly in several places. I go still at what’s revealed.

Lucky’s whole chest is slippery and red, and Jasper’s hands hover over it, shaking.

“Wake up, Lucien,” he commands, and the snap to his voice is pure panic. “Now.”

He begins tearing at his own clothes, then presses the scraps against the pulsing holes, looking lost. Looking at the location of the wounds, and the blue-tinged cast to Lucky’s lips, I’m guessing he has a collapsed lung and that wound is sucking in air dangerously.

Without Beau, without an emergency crike, I doubt he’ll make it. Damn it, where is he?

Cursing, I look around and spot the med kit Beau left out here while he was flirting with Eden. And I can’t believe it, but his crush might actually save the day here.

I yank it out and pull out the sterile dressing we were taught to use for this situation. There’s one here with a valve, but that’s beyond my expertise. It’s been years since I did my first responder training. I clean the wound quickly with Beau’s wipes, dry it, and then place the dressing over the chest wound, securing it on three sides.

I’m leaning down, trying to decide if his breathing sounds steadier, when I hear a low growl.

“You are dead fucking weight. I should leave you on the damn grass. Should leave all your stupid asses. Gonna get me killed like an asshole. Dicks. None of you are worth this shit.”

Jayk stumbles in through the now-open space where the glass sliding door used to be, one of Beau’s arms over his shoulder. My heart actually flutters in dizzying relief as I rush over to help.

They’re all here, I reassure myself, and it’s like feeling floods back into my numb body. All here.

Though as I glance back at Lucky, the relief fades quickly. Those wounds are far from nothing. Not to mention, there’s no guarantee the danger is over yet. I scan the clearing again, but nothing moves except flames dancing over dead grass.

“Like anyone’s coming close again after that,” Jayk scoffs, and I just grunt, not ready to trust it.

Pulling Beau’s other arm around my shoulder, I move with Jayk to get him beside Lucky and Jasper. He’s covered in blood, but I can’t see where it’s coming from. There doesn’t appear to be a head wound. His left leg looks the worst, with a deep cut in his thigh that’s leaking blood.

“I’m going to kill you for that stunt,” I bite out under my breath.

Beau laughs, though it sounds pained. “Well, I wouldn’t want a good speech to go to waste.”

When he catches sight of Lucky, he sobers. “We need to get him to the med bay. Now.”