He dozed off for a few hours and then made himself stay awake. About an hour before dawn, he made his move.
First order of business was getting out of this shed. He shoved to his feet and knocked on the door. He wasn’t surprised when the guard peeked at him through the slats instead of opening the lock.
“I have to take a piss. You want me to do it on your tools?” he said.
Lids narrowed at him and then the lock jangled.
“Don’t make no trouble, or I’ll shoot you and they won’t get no lynching,” the man said, opening the shed door.
“I just need to piss.”
The man stepped back and Zane shuffled out of the toolshed, the chain between the cuffs dragging in the dirt. Making his way along the side of the shed, he stopped in the back and reached for his zipper. He tugged it down and shot the guy a look.
“Going to watch?”
“Fuck no!” The guy jerked around. “Don’t try nothin’.”
Zane whipped out his dick and pissed on the back of the toolshed. It wouldn’t matter if it smelled because he wasn’t going back inside. He zipped up.
One guard? That’s all they put on him? He must look like shit if they thought one man could contain him.
He whirled, chains clanking, and the man turned, but Zane was already close. He punched the heel of his palm upward into the man’s nose. The bones cracked beneath his palm. The hit wouldn’t kill the guy. People were misinformed when they thought punching someone upward in the nose killed them instantly, it took a bit more than that.
The guy dropped his weapon and held his face, Zane moved in and cinched his arm around the man’s neck and twisted. The snap was loud to his own ears, but not to the house.
It was a kill move, and the man dropped like a stone.
Snatching up the rifle, Zane took off back toward the falls, shuffling through the grass, dragging the chain between his bare feet.
Isaac
He couldn’t believe his fucking eyes when Zane came hobbling down the side of the dirt road, clutching a rifle and wearing… what the fuck were those, ankle cuffs?
“Zane,” he whispered, and Dillon standing closest to him, squeezed his shoulder.
They’d met up with Alpha and Fury a few hours ago and followed the trail Zane had left every time he fell or was pushed. To avoid detection, they’d stayed beneath the thick trees and underbrush that lined the dusty road.
He couldn’t stand it any longer and lunged from the trees across the distance to Zane.
“Isaac?” The surprise in Zane’s voice was laughable, but Isaac wasn’t laughing.
He reached Zane and hauled him into his arms all the while pulling him back into the safety and shelter of the trees where everyone waited.
“And here we thought we’d have to rescue your ass.” Dillon grinned and clamped a hand on Zane’s shoulder.
“I wondered what the lagging was,” Zane huffed, leaning heavily against him.
Isaac kept his arm around Zane’s shoulder, steadying him. His heart pounding so fucking hard, gently holding him. His teeth clenched, holding back hot words at the damage he could see on Zane. Cuts and bruises littered Zane’s face and blood had dried on his neck and shoulder.
“Lag? I’ll have you know that Isaac had us double timing,” Dillon said with a smirk.
Holden motioned him over and when he guided Zane closer, Holden aimed the muzzle of the silencer at the chain and pulled the trigger. With a quiet snick, metal blew apart.
“Sit down over here,” he said, guiding Zane to a bed roll.
Colin took out a set of tools and sat next to Zane’s feet, working at unlocking the ankle cuffs.
Ethan crowded close and applied salve to Zane’s wrists before wrapping them up.
“What’s the plan?” Zane glanced at their captain.
“We’re going in before dawn,” Maddox said.
“Let me see,” Ethan said, and lifted Zane’s shirt before very gently touching the area at Zane’s ribs. The man hissed, but held still.
Isaac sucked in a quick breath and bent to see the dark bruise that covered Zane’s right side.
“Rocks caught me on the way down the falls.”
“And your head,” he murmured, moving closer to run his fingers gently through Zane’s hair, finding the cut that had already scabbed over.
“That should hold it,” Ethan said after wrapping up Zane’s ribs with white gauze and tape. “Any sharp pains?”
“It’s a dull thud now. A rib is probably cracked,” Zane admitted. The man’s eyes were closed and he was leaning into his fingers. Isaac kept caressing Zane’s scalp, offering silent support.
Ethan lifted the light to shine on the cut at the back of Zane’s head. “Doesn’t need stitches, but let’s keep an eye on it.”
“Captain?” Zane said.
“What do you need?” Maddox came closer and crouched next to them.
“I might need to sit this one out.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.”
Isaac wanted to laugh. Sit this one out? Of course, Zane was sitting this one out!
“There’s about thirteen of them. Eddie, Mike’s wife, Grandpa, an older uncle, and several adults and teenagers mixed in. I could be wrong, but I think the uncle might have called in the warning to the tip line.”
“Copy that,” Maddox replied. “Did you get a look at the inside of the house?”
“No, but you’ll see that it’s falling apart. Should be easy to breach.”
“What did they have planned for you?”
“A lynching in the morning with plans to burn my body.”
He gnashed his teeth and went to stand, but Zane gripped his arm and kept him sitting.
“Can you give us a moment?” Zane asked Maddox.
The rest of the team gazed up from various places, some on bedrolls, some eating dried snacks, a few cleaning their weapons.
Nobody moved away.
“Babe,” he whispered. “They aren’t going anywhere. We just got you back.”
Zane gave him a sheepish look.
“I’ll just be over here,” Maddox said and kicked
