Page 45 of Peaceful Chaos

The cabin was never in great shape. Lucien and I spent as much of our free time as we could on repairs and only managed to keep it from falling down. Amazing what kind of deterioration can occur in nearly half a year. The door protests as I try to push it open. I nearly have to tear it off its hinges to get inside. The smell hits me first. Dust, stale air, and blood mingle in the air.

It isn't hard to find the source of the blood. The cabin is five hundred square feet at most, and in the middle of the room is a broken and battered Grant Holbrook. He's still, too still. I watch, but I can't see if he's breathing.

Lucien rushes to him, kneeling down in a pool of blood that surrounds him. His hand shakes as he brings it up to look at in the dim light. "There's so much blood, but it's still fresh."

"Check and see if he has a pulse." I should really be the one doing this. Holbrook might have been a dick to me, but he's still Lucien's uncle. He and Raven have very little family, even less that care about them.

Before I can step forward to take his place, he presses his bloody fingers to Holbrook's carotid artery. Lucien releases a relieved sigh. "He's alive. His pulse is weak, but at least he has one."

"We need to move him, but I can't figure out where he's bleeding from," Lucien says. His hands flutter around his uncle in an uncharacteristic display of nerves.

Holbrook groans. "Shot," he mumbles.

"What was that?" Lucien asks him.

"I think he's telling us he was shot." I help Lucien roll him over, and there's a bleeding wound in his gut.

Holbrook moans with the movement, and his eyes start to roll into the back of his head. I slap him, just enough to keep him conscious. "Don't you go passing out. We're going to need you awake so the medics can assess your injuries."

"You need to go," he mumbles. His head lolls to the side, and I grab his chin to look in his eyes.

"Don't make me hit you again," I warn him. "Help me lift him," I say to Lucien.

Holbrook tries feebly to bat my hands away. "You need to go. He—" A wracking cough causes him to double over, and a worrying trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth.

"Now," I urge Lucien.

Holbrook sucks in a lungful of air. "I said leave me. Damien is going after Raven. He figured out what we were up to with the DA."

"Not hard to do when the DA is on his payroll," Lucien scoffs.

A sigh escapes Holbrook. "What do you want me to say? That the two of you were right? My faith in the justice system was misguided? Can't we go over all of that later when that sadistic fuck isn't on his way to California to collect Raven?"

I take out my phone. Hopefully, Javier will answer since we don't have to worry about alerting security.

"Did you find him?" he asks by way of a greeting.

"Yes. He's been shot, so we'll need something a bit bigger to transport him than a dirt bike."

"I'll have one of the rear units grab a bigger vehicle and meet you there," he responds.

"Hurry. They've gone after Raven."

"Unlike Damien, we didn't bring everyone. Have some faith, nephew."

Faith and trust are little more than concepts to me. Neither meant much to me before I met Raven, and they only mean anything to me now concerning her. I only have faith in her, and the only person I trust without any reservations is her. Even Lucien, who I have had to rely on for my survival hasn't managed to gain my complete trust.

Javier already suspects this, since he hangs up before I can reply. It doesn't matter whether I have faith regardless. Two thousand miles and a four-hour return plane trip prevent me from doing anything else.

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