Page 142 of Monstrous Serpent

My molars grind. Garrett fucking cut him.

I reach behind and untie the fabric, then toss the gag aside. “You okay?”

“Wade.” His voice is raw. Wrecked. But steady. “It's Wade.”

“What?”

“He’s here, broke out of prison. He planned this.”

I swallow hard, lips pressed into a thin line. If my uncle escaped, why didn’t VINE call? Why didn’t they fucking warn us? I cup Atlas’s cheek, my thumb grazing over the cut on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. This is on me. I should’ve told you about my brother.”

His brows furrow, nostrils flaring. “Yeah. You should have. But we've got bigger problems.”

Understatement.

Both my uncle and brother are around here somewhere. Watching. Which means I need to get Atlas free, and fast.

I shift to his ankles, pulling the knife from the back of my waistband, then cut the rope binding him.

“Hunt, they threatened to go after Davis. They have a picture of him.”

My grip tightens on the hilt, pulse spiking. When the rope is loose, I move behind the tree trunk and get to work on the zip ties. They dug in deep, blood coating Atlas’s skin, making the plastic slick. I carefully work the blade under the first zip tie and cut through it. Atlas flinches and grunts. Every fiber in my body pulls taut.

Going to kill every last member of my family for what they did to him. For even thinking about going after Davis.

Fuck.

Did my brother ever even leave New York? Has he been watching us this whole time?

I move back to the other side of the tree as Atlas rubs his wrists. “You need to get out of—”

A crack cuts through the air.

I slam into Atlas, driving him sideways and down, one arm around his head, the other braced against the dirt as something punches into the trunk above us.

Splinters of bark hit the back of my neck. Atlas grunts under me, his hands fisting in my shirt as more pieces rain down over my shoulder and into his hair.

“Stay down,” I say.

One second.

Two.

No second shot.

But a branch snaps. Then another.

I lift my head and look over my shoulder just as my uncle steps into view.

“Knew you'd come for Bambi.”

My grip tightens on the knife as I spring to my feet, making sure to keep my body between him and Atlas.

A second shape, thinner, steps out of the shadows.

Garrett.

My brother stops just past the trunk he came from, arms hanging loose. His eyes move from me to Atlas and back. His expression gives nothing away, but his hands are shaking.