“No, his fuckinglegs, you dumbass,” the same man growls.
Crap. Crap.Crap.
I swallow hard and work on calming down. My gaze slides to the cabinet right by my head, where the pots and pans are. Gingerly, I open the door and ease out a frying pan.
Counting to three in my head, I gather as much courage as I can. I creep out of the kitchen with my makeshift weapon poised like I’m about to swing a bat.
The men’s voices grow louder as I sneak through the dark toward them. Right as I turn the corner, two large, shadowed men come into my view. I screech and swing for their heads.
“Shit!” one yells, then ducks before my weapon hits him.
“Goddamn it, she has a fucking pan!” the other bellows.
As I swing again, my vision takes that moment to adjust to the darkness. I stop mid-swing and gasp.
“Oh my god!” I rush toward them, my gaze zeroing in on Ryder’s slumped body as they hold him like a sack of potatoes.
Aiden and Hawk stare at me in bewilderment. Their chests heave with their efforts as they cling to Ryder so he doesn’t fall.
“Jesus Christ, woman. You almost gave us a heart attack.” Aiden hitches Ryder’s leg higher into his arms, and Hawk does the same with Ryder’s shoulders.
I glare at him. “I almost gaveyoua heart attack? Imagine me!”
Hawk turns to me. “We need to get him to his room.”
I nod and glance at Ryder passed out in their arms. My chest squeezes when I notice the blood on his face. I spin on my heels and lead the guys through the house and out the back door.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
I hold open Ryder’s bedroom door as they maneuver him through and lay him on his bed. Tears sting my eyes at how caring and gentle they are with him, situating him into a comfortable position and even removing his boots.
“What happened?” I ask. I already know about Ryder taking a baseball bat to the head, but there’s more to it.
How did they get away?
Who did this?
Hawk steps back from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair. “Ran into some problems.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Aiden says as he turns to me with fire in his eyes. I’m used to seeing him smiling and joking, so witnessing his anger is strange.
I look at Aiden and Hawk—like,reallylook at them. They have the same cuts and bruises, along with blood smeared on their faces and knuckles.
I turn away from Hawk and Aiden. “Wait here and I’ll patch you guys up.”
Hawk catches my arm. “No need to help us. Focus on Ryder. He’ll be fine. He’s just knocked out for the moment.”
“Yeah,” Aiden says with a little smile. “If you want to play nurse with someone, let it be him.” He jerks his chin toward Ryder.
Hawk drops his hand to his side. “We’ll see you later.”
They leave, shutting the door behind them.
Taking a deep breath, I search through Ryder’s bathroom for a first-aid kit. All I find are Band-Aids, Neosporin, and gauze. I fill a random bowl with warm water and toss a clean washcloth in. Taking all of my findings with me, I return to Ryder’s side and set them on the nightstand. I don’t know how bad his injuries are, but if his friends aren’t too worried, then I shouldn’t be, either.
I gently strip off his jacket, then his T-shirt. Because he’s dead to the world, it’s hard to maneuver his arms, but I still manage. My heart breaks at the bruises on his chest, along with more blood smeared over his tatted skin.
I don’t want to just beat up the person who did this to him. I want to murder them.
