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“Now!” Sloane popped up from behind the van, firing at the gunmen, who took cover, but not before Sloane clipped two of them in the leg, sending them to the floor with cries of pain. Sloane took off after Dex, firing as he went until he was inside the garage, or at least that’s what he thought it was. It was actually a huge storage unit that stretched down the length of the building, sectioned off into smaller units, and supported by several concrete columns. There was everything from wooden pallets to metal racking, department store mannequins, holiday displays, old signage, and cleaning equipment.
“Come on, we can take cover behind that racking.” Dex motioned ahead of them, and Sloane followed, shots ringing out behind them. They ran further into the storage unit, a set of red wires catching his attention. He came to a halt, his eyes widening at the C4 strapped to one of the concrete columns.
“Run!”
They raced back toward the entrance when the explosion knocked Sloane off his feet. He hit something solid and bounced off before hitting the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him from the impact. His ears rang, and his vision was blurry. He sucked in a sharp breath and winced. His lungs burned, his throat was raw, and breathing in deep resulted in a mouthful of dust. Coughing and sputtering, he turned his head, his blurry vision focusing on a dirt-smudged face.
“Dex,” Sloane wheezed, trying to push himself up, but his body wasn’t cooperating. A look over his shoulder revealed the reason why. A large chunk of a concrete column had him pinned. A shot hit the dirt beside his head, and Sloane jerked out of the way as much as the slab of concrete would allow, a harsh voice echoing from somewhere in the distance.
“Don’t shoot him you idiots! I want him alive. Grab the blond.”
The blond? Oh God, they were going to take Dex. He had to do something. “Dex,” Sloane rasped, “wake up. Please. Dex. Wake up.”
Dex groaned, his eyelids slowly opening. “Wh—what happened?”
“Get up. You have to get up right now. Run.”
Despite his confusion, Dex reacted to the urgency in Sloane’s voice, rolling onto his side and shakily pushing himself to his feet. Sloane opened his mouth when a series of shots rang out, two hitting Dex in the vest, throwing him off his feet. But it was the dart in Dex’s arm that frightened Sloane the most.
“No!” Something in Sloane’s brain snapped, and his vision cleared. He pushed as hard as he could against the ground. “You son of a bitch!”
Dex coughed and gasped, sucking in as much oxygen as he could after being winded, his face a deep red, his eyes bloodshot and teary from whatever was going through his system. Sloane could see his partner trying to push through the pain caused by the impact of the bullets hitting his vest, through whatever was making Dex writhe. “Sloane,” Dex breathed, shutting his eyes tight.
“No, please. Dex!” Sloane reached out again, stretching his arm as far as his protesting muscles would allow. The back of his eyes stung as Dex’s head lolled toward him, and he attempted a reassuring smile. The bastard. How could he think about Sloane at a time like this? “Dex!”
With whatever strength Dex seemed to have left, he dragged his arm up, and his fingers crawled to Sloane’s until they could touch. Sloane took Dex’s fingers in his. Seconds later two men arrived, grabbing Dex by his vest.
“Don’t you dare hurt him! Dex!”
Dex was out cold, lying limp as the two men carried him away. Teeth gritted, Sloane desperately tried to pull himself free. He was going to tear them apart. A boot pounded down against his back, forcing him against the concrete floor.
“My, how the mighty have fallen.” Isaac chuckled. “And have still to fall.”
“What do you want with Dex?” Sloane growled, trying to grab Isaac, only to have the man stomp on his arm. He let out a hoarse cry, his face growing hot and red as he seethed.
“I want from him the same thing you do. His loyalty, his friendship, devotion, everything you don’t deserve. How do you do it? How do you take good, honest men like Dex, like my brother, and turn them into your filthy toys? Is it through loyalty? Do you lure them with the illusion of happiness? A happiness you can never give them?” He leaned in, his voice quiet, but his words shaking Sloane down to his core. “Do you honestly believe a man like Dex will want you when he finds out what you are? What you’ve done?”
Sloane went still.
“That’s right. I know everything. My brother was blinded by your lies, and I’ve watched as you’ve woven your web of deception around Dex, but I can still save him. When he finds out the truth, he’ll see you for the animal you are.”
“Maybe, but he’ll never be loyal to you.”
“Oh, he will. Believe me, he will, and then we’ll crush the THIRDS under our thumbs, and rule this city the way it was meant to be ruled. Without your filthy kind.”
Isaac’s words sent dread through Sloane. “What have you done?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Why don’t we get this over with, Isaac? You and me, without these games.”
“And miss out on making your life miserable? I’ll be waiting for you, Sloane. Right where it all began for you and your feral friends.”
Isaac disappeared, and Sloane pushed against the floor, desperate. He had to stop them.
“Sloane? Dex? Where are you?”
“Maddock! In the storage garage!” Sloane called out as loud as he could. Within seconds, his team was racing in, Ash and Calvin rushing to his side to lift the slab. “Dex! They have Dex!” Sloane thrust his finger in the direction Isaac had run off to, and Maddock darted off with Rosa, Letty, and Cael.
