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Now it was just him facing off with a fifty-eight hundred-pound, rapidly approaching vehicle. He stood in the middle of the parkway with his feet braced apart, pointing his death-maker at the driver.
“Dana, MOVE!”
He could hear Ford yelling, but he ignored him and kept his gun aimed. This was going to be over, right now. He was tired of this. Tired of the restless nights and the constant looking over their shoulders. Tired of Grossman. The SUV was close enough that Dana could see the frustration, the anger, the rage all over his ugly face through the windshield. Dana fired twice and hit the driver dead center in his chest. Blood splattered the windshield, blinding him. Grossman’s panicked face was a small consolation. Dana changed his trajectory, pointed his SIG at Grossman. But before he could get the shot, Grossman lurched over, grabbed the wheel and jerked, sending that huge grill right for him. Dana only got one shot off, hitting their bounty in the shoulder, before he had to dive out of the way.
Unfortunately, he didn’t dive fast enough.
Ford
The sight of Dana in the middle of the road with Grossman headed straight for him was enough to give Ford a heart attack, but when Dana didn’t move fast enough and that big truck clipped his man, sending him flying ten feet in the air before he dropped to hit the asphalt so hard he bounced, Ford was sure his heart had completely stopped beating. Ford clutched at his chest but he kept running. Dana was motionless on the ground. His body twisted in an awkward angle.
God, please. Don’t take him from me. Ford hadn’t prayed that prayer since he’d heard of his brother’s capture by insurgents in Afghanistan. He kept going, had to get to him. Dana had only been a block away from him and look what happened. Ford kept running. He didn’t know how he was putting one foot in front of the other when his body ached all over like he was the one who’d just been hit. It felt like his soul was shattering, his heart breaking.
The SUV crashed into a light pole about a hundred feet away. Brian was already there when Grossman fell out the passenger door onto the ground, crawling, gripping his left shoulder. Brian didn’t bother to be gentle. He kicked Grossman over, putting him face down on the sidewalk and zip tied his wrists.
“Dana!” Ford yelled hoarsely. Cars honked and slowed, trying to move around him, since he was running in the middle of the street. Sirens could be heard, but they weren’t close enough to provide Ford any comfort. Dana needed help, fast. He hadn’t moved at all. Was he… was he? God. Although the truck only clipped him, the way Dana fell back to the ground, his head making devastating contact with the asphalt was what had Ford so damn terrified.
He got to Dana, dropping down hard on his knees by his side. “Baby. Baby can you hear me?” Ford knew his voice sounded like he’d been chain smoking for forty years but he didn’t know how to clear the emotion. Quick and Duke had sat Ford and Dana down when they admitted to their relationship and what it would mean for the team. Quick simply told them to stay professional and they’d have no problems. Duke told Ford to treat Dana as his partner not his boyfriend on the streets. To leave his heart at home. Ford looked down at Dana, a bruise already forming on his cheek, a gash at his hairline that was bleeding way too much. Ford put his hand to Dana’s forehead and applied pressure. He couldn’t leave his heart at home, when his heart was with Dana.
“Come on, Dana. Open your eyes.” Ford was crouched down at Dana’s ear, hoping he was whispering. “Baby, please.”
Duke and Quick were there next, huffing and looking just as concerned. Ford could hear them talking, he could hear Quick’s raspy voice barking commands at people standing around and creeping past in their cars.
Dana hadn’t moved an inch, Ford couldn’t even see his chest rising. More blood seeped through Ford’s fingers and Dana had yet to open his eyes. Ford was petrified, but he did it anyway. He put two fingers to Dana’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Ford’s hands shook so badly, it took him a while to pick up the faint beat. But it was there. Ford turned and roared at Duke. “Where’s the goddamn ambulance!”
“Two more minutes,” Duke answered, squatting next to Ford, looking over Dana’s prone form. “Hang in there buddy, they’re coming.”
Two minutes! “Maybe we should take him ourselves?” Ford didn’t want to wait another second to get Dana some help, but he knew before he even said those words that it was the absolute worst thing to do.
