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I whispered-shouted his name, spotting him not far from the house. He lingered in the shadows, appearing to freeze just as much as me. Even in the dull lights on the property, he was visibly shaking, his head whipping around. Snow up to my ankles, I crunched my way out to him. He spotted me and ran straight toward me.
“Wolf? Wolf!”
“Kid? What the fuck you doing out here?” But then, he showed me.
He didn’t have to do much.
He merely had to step into the light flooding off the house, his face splattered in red dots.
His hands.
The same pattern followed along his chest, and my eyes widened.
“Wolf, I…” He held his hands out, staring at them. The kid was two shades of white, eyes red and bloodshot. He looked up. “Ares.”
I didn’t know what I was looking at. I didn’t know what he was showing me but that was definitely blood. “Kid, are…” I swallowed. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, incessant about it. “It’s not mine. It’s not mine.”
“Whose is it?” I stepped close, and he backed up.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t—” His lips pinched together, a fear lacing his eyes I’d never seen. “Ares, I need your help. I fucked up and…” He gazed around. “I’m scared, bro. I need help.”
“Okay. How can I help?”
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t. I…” He had his hands up now, looking like he was about to run. He laced them above his head. “I shot Callum.”
What?
“I shot him. He went down. I don’t know if he’s dead. I don’t know if he’s sending someone for me. I just ran. I ran, Ares. Please help me.”
Oh my God.
His hands shook in his hair. “He’s probably sending people after me, and I—”
“No. He’s…” I raised a hand. “Come inside. Come with me.”
I waved him to come, but he was panicked and wasn’t moving. I ended up grabbing him, physically pulling him with me inside. His legs weren’t moving right, and again, I had to drag him to get him to come with me. I didn’t think we were making much noise, but Thatcher’s door opened as soon as we passed it. The guy had sleep in his eyes, but they shot open when he saw me with the kid.
“The fuck,” Thatch started, but I growled.
“Shut the fuck up,” I warned, low, but was loud enough that he did. I told him I was taking the kid back to his room, and Thatch said he’d go get Wells. Bru looked like he wanted to protest about that, but at this point, he wasn’t able to do much anyway besides walk.
He wasn’t even doing that right. The guy was literally convulsing. I got him into his bathroom, and by then, Thatcher had gotten Wells. We all piled into a bathroom that barely fit one of us, the kid in front of the sink while he rehashed what had happened to Thatcher and Wells.
“How the fuck did you even get outside and around security?” Wells asked him while I helped the kid wash his hands and face. He started to by himself but was having a hard time with it.
“I heard. I heard…” He closed his eyes, taking a second when I told him to slow down. With a breath, he opened them. “I heard your moms talking earlier tonight that your dads were going after Callum. Said they’d found him and I heard something about a hotel. Where he was at, I guess.”
“I heard the same thing,” I said, news to Thatcher and Wells when they looked at me. “You guys were asleep.”
“Well, you should have fucking woken us up,” Thatcher grit, and Wells nodded.
“Agreed,” Wells said. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re covered in blood and managed to get around security.”
“There weren’t many guys around tonight,” Bru stated, looking at us. “The ones who were left mentioned that many of them were going over to that hotel to help. They talked about the room too and where Callum was at. Anyway, with security thin, I found an opening. Took a gun before I left. I lifted one off one of the security guys’ yesterday. I wanted to go after Callum myself.”
What the hell?
