Page 75 of Draven

“Try the others.” I wrap my arms around Louise’s waist and hold her up to take the strain from her shoulders and back.

She hisses and mutters, “Fuck”.

“Hurry up,” I bark.

“Got it.” Ciaran passes me the key to the handcuffs, and I unlock them. Within a second, Louise falls into my arms, holding me tightly around my neck.

I glance around, looking for her clothes, unable to see them. Shit.

“Go find her something to put on,” I say to no one in particular.

Ciaran reacts first, darting into the hallway, while I shrug out of my leather jacket and cover Louise with it as best I can. She tugs it around her body and shivers.

“I need a gun,” she rasps.

“Lola, don’t be ridiculous. You need to go to the fucking hospital.”

“I’m fine,” she hisses. “It’s a few bruises and a cut to my cheek. Maybe a cracked rib. I’ve had worse. You arrived before Shala could do any serious damage. Now, give me your fucking gun. I’ve earned this.”

I trade a glance with Pete, who shrugs. “Unless my guys get to him first, I say let her have her revenge.”

Ciaran appears, holding what looks like a pair of coveralls. “Best I could do,” he says.

Louise leans on me as she tugs them on, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. I push her hands out of the way and take over. Once I’m done, she holds out her hand. “Gun.”

“Fucking annoying female,” I mutter, even as pride fills my chest. She’s a warrior, my woman. A fucking warrior. I hand over my weapon, then demand Ciaran’s firearm in return.

“I’ll stay here with him,” Ciaran says, pointing his chin at the one man we have in custody.

Louise limps to the door, clutching her side. Nothing can keep her down, not even being beaten and kidnapped, even if we had planned for them to take her. But if I’d known they’d do this to her before we managed to get here, I’d have locked her up and thrown away the fucking key.

“This way.” I point in the direction I’d seen the four men go, guessing one of them must have been Beresford.

Louise hobbles down the hallway, pausing occasionally to catch her breath before pushing on once more. Several times, I almost order her to stop, then think better of it. Injured or not, she’s perfectly capable of kicking me squarely between the legs. She’s running on pure adrenaline, though, and as soon as this is over, she’ll crash.

And I’ll be ready to catch her.

Another rickety stairwell leads to the upper floor. Louise takes the stairs two at a time, her arms straight out in front, leading with the gun. Beresford and the others must have heard the gunfire, and there’s a possibility the FBI already have them in custody. Pete must have messaged them as soon as I took down Shala.

I’m right. As soon as Louise and I reach the main floor, I spot two agents racing toward us from the opposite side of the warehouse, and the four perps skid to a halt.

“Beresford!” Louise bellows.

He spins around, his eyes widening when he sees the three of us. Before either us or the FBI can act, he snatches one of his associates, locks his arm around the man’s throat, and points a gun at his head.

“Beresford!” Louise calls out again. “Let him go. It’s over.”

“Back off!” Beresford yells. “All of you, back the fuck off, or I’ll kill him.”

Go ahead. One more piece of crap off the streets.

Unfortunately, law enforcement doesn’t work that way.

Louise holds up her hand, her gaze locking on one of the FBI agents approaching Beresford, and an understanding passes between them.

“Okay,” Louise says, crouching. “Okay, stay calm. We’re putting down our guns. See.” She sets it on the ground but keeps her finger on the trigger.

“And them,” Beresford says, spinning to face the agents. There are more of them now. At least eight.

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