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But Carven actually looked nervous as he stepped toward his twin brother. “In the car, brother.” He commanded. “You heard what London needs.”
He blinked, then shook his head, lifting those clenched fists to drive them into the sides of his head.
“Dear God.” Kane murmured, then strode forward, pushing London out of the way. “Can’t you see? He’s having a mental breakdown.”
“Kane…NO!” London roared.
But it was too late. The deadly male lunged, driving his muscled frame through the air like he was built to fly, and slammed into my brother, driving him to the ground. Kane hit with an oof before Carven was there, slamming into Colt, driving him sideways. They fought, slamming into each other with brutal savagery. Colt got one punch in, slamming into the Son’s mouth, then another. But Carven never reacted, even when blood slipped from the deep split. Instead, he turned his head, spat the blood onto the ground, and growled. “You will get yourself together, brother. She needs us. Do you hear me? She…needs…us…”
Those words had an impact, stopping the onslaught. Colt sucked in hard breaths, his dark blue eyes fixed on his brother.
“Wildcat.” He grunted.
Carven sucked in a hard breath of his own and eased backwards, releasing his hold on his brother’s shirt. “That’s it. Wildcat needs us. So how about you get yourself into the car so we can find her?”
Colt drew in heavy breaths, those dark blue eyes slowly growing brighter. “Carven?” He asked, bewildered.
“It’s okay.” Carven shoved against the ground and rose, then cut Kane a blistering glare. “Saved you from being therapized to death is all.”
Colt had no idea. I saw that now. No fucking idea as he followed his brother.
“You good?” London asked.
They both nodded, then headed for the four-wheel drive, climbing in to leave us behind.
“What the fuck was that?” Kane muttered as he shoved against the asphalt to stand.
“That was what The Order created.” London muttered. “And thanks to you, we’ve lost precious time.”
Kane flinched. Jesus, I’d thought I was a hard motherfucker. But I was nothing compared to St. James.
Headlights splashed over us, drawing London’s gaze. He lifted a gun, taking aim.
“Easy.” Hunter strode forward. “It’s my men.”
I cut him a glare, then watched as the black Hummer pulled up alongside the curb hard and came to a stop. Two men climbed out before headlights followed and another Explorer pulled in alongside.
“Can’t very well drive around in a goddamn stolen Bentley all night, can we?” He said and strode toward his men.
“Cell.” London handed one to me. “Stay in contact.”
“Will do.” I answered as I took it and headed after my brother.
We all climbed in the Explorer. I took the passenger seat, leaving Hunter to talk to his men before he climbed in behind the wheel, and winced. He was hurt, that was obvious, but pain would have to wait. We had Trouble to find.
“Do you have a plan?” I asked.
“No.” He answered, shoving the four-wheel drive into gear.
“Great.” I muttered, that torment seething under the surface. “So, what, we drive around until we fucking see them?”
He cut me a glare. “My men are scanning satellite footage of all cars leaving the house, but with the number of assholes running from the scene, that's going to take some time. If you have a better idea, then I’m all fucking ears.”
I didn’t and we both knew that.
“Goddamn it…goddamn it!” I screamed.
But it wasn’t Helene’s face I saw in my head. Nor was it Hale’s.
