Page 96 of Extracted

Cole stopped at the corner of the building and held up his hand to halt Dallas, but he moved to stand next to him.

Around the corner was the street, and Dallas’s eyes landed on Silas’s idling SUV. “There,” he said next to Cole’s ear. “That’s his vehicle.”

He bumped around Cole’s shoulder and aimed his gun. Cole’s hard grip on his bicep stopped him.

“The fuck you think you’re doing? We don’t even know if she’s in there.”

Dallas’s gut told him to smash the windows and see for himself. And he always listened to his gut. “I’m going to find out.”

He tore out of Cole’s hold and strode toward the vehicle, his shoes smacking on the pavement. The SUV rolled away from the curb as two guards spilled out of the front of the club. Dallas broke into a run and shot at the men. One bullet struck a man in the abdomen, the other missed the second guy.

Dallas didn’t stop running. The SUV merged onto the road and gunned through a red light.

No, they were getting away!

Shots fired from behind him. Dallas ducked as he ran down the street, chasing the SUV. Another bullet whizzed by his head and smacked into a truck window. Glass exploded into pellets.

“Shit.” He wheeled around, aimed, and fired at the shooter. The guy went down hard, the bullet ripping through his chest.

A horn blared from the street.

“Hurry up!” From behind the wheel, Cole yelled through the rolled-down passenger window. Dallas rushed to the rental car and jumped in.

“Go!” He smacked the dash, and Cole stomped on the gas. Dallas sat on the edge of the leather seat, his stare on the windshield. “I don’t see them.” His chest constricted.

“They turned up ahead. I’ve got it. Just be ready to take out their tires when we get close.”

Unspent energy drummed through Dallas’s body. He needed to get out, to sprint, to catch the SUV and wrap his hands around Silas’s neck before he combusted, but he couldn’t do any of that.

All he could do was ensure his heart didn’t give out. He didn’t let his mind go to all the stories he’d heard about Silas. The ways he killed people who crossed him.

There was no telling what he’d do in the minutes he had her alone. Probably a lot worse just to get back at him.

The streets were mostly quiet, only the odd car was on the road. Cole powered down the lane. He took a hard left at the lights, and Dallas gripped the door handle, letting out a curse.

The SUV wasn’t in view.

“Where are they?” Sweat coated Dallas’s upper lip as he shot daggers at Cole.

He wiped away the droplets with his wrist, his hand shaking. Christ. They were too late. Silas had gotten away and they were fucked. He was fucked.

Several beats passed. “I saw them turn down here,” Cole said, but his voice held a note of unease. Something no one but someone who’d shared a womb with him would have been able to pick up on.

“They’re gone.” He slammed the heel of his palm on the dash. “Fuck!”

Cole pulled over and turned in his seat. “It’s not over.”

“We’ll never find them.” Doom crushed down on him. He brought his fingers to the neckline of his shirt and tugged the material away from his throat. It did nothing to lessen the suffocating pressure on his windpipe.

Cole’s fingers bit into his shoulder. “Have I let you down yet?”

Dallas rocked his jaw back and forth. This wasn’t about Cole. It wasn’t about him. The fact of the matter was Gemma was in the hands of a twisted sonofabitch—and worse than that, the sonofabitch thought Gemma had tried to bomb him.

And Dallas had tried to kill Silas less than an hour before. He’d torture Gemma for that alone. He stared into his brother’s hard, insistent eyes.

Cole shook his shoulder. “Well?”

Dallas forced himself to swallow the words of doubt. “No.”

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