Page 56 of Easton’s Claim

Moving forward in a crouch, he carefully maneuvered through the brush, using his familiarity with the terrain to angle his way toward the edge of the road, and paused.

Wyatt was to his left, on one knee beside the fallen man. “Dead,” he murmured, his quiet voice carrying through the air, and checked the dying man for more weapons. “Not Gallant.”

Gallant must be the one trying to get to the road. Easton flexed his fingers around his rifle.One down, one to go.On this side of the property, anyway. There was still one more man unaccounted for if Greg’s numbers had been correct.

Peering through the last screen of trees between him and the road, Easton spotted a vehicle parked on the shoulder. “He’s gonna run for the car,” he whispered to Wyatt, who had moved up behind him.

“He won’t make it.” Raw rage filled his brother’s deep voice.

Nope.Trusting his brother to have his back, Easton crept forward, watching the far tree line, keeping the car in his sights. A blur of movement shot out of the trees, and a sliver of light showed Gallant’s profile for a split second as he raced by.

Easton aimed through the trees, finger on the trigger, but Gallant managed to dive behind the car for cover before Easton could get a shot off.

He cursed under his breath. “He’s at the car.” Easton broke from cover and raced toward it, his feet flying over the carpet of branches and fallen leaves. The car engine roared to life and the tires squealed as it took off, spraying up leaves and gravel.

Easton burst through the trees a heartbeat later and fired twice at the rear window. Glass shattered. Wyatt appeared beside him and fired at a rear tire as Easton fired at the back of the front seat. A loud pop followed. The BMW veered and skidded, sliding off the road, and slammed sideways into a tree with a loud crash.

Before the vehicle had even come to rest, Easton and Wyatt were charging toward it. Easton caught movement in the driver’s seat. Gallant was struggling to shove the inflated air bag out of his way. Blood glistened on his face and his right arm, where one of Easton’s bullet had torn through his shoulder.

You’re fuckingmine.

Easton ripped open the passenger door, leaving Wyatt to cover him. Gallant grabbed for the weapon on the passenger seat as Easton dove inside and slammed his fist against the side of Gallant’s bleeding face.

The guy grunted and fumbled to bring the pistol up but Easton grabbed his wrist and wrenched it down and back. Bone snapped.

Gallant screamed and threw a punch with his other hand but Easton dodged it, grabbed the fucker by the back of the shirt and dragged him across the passenger seat and out of the car.

With a low snarl Easton threw Gallant onto the pavement and rolled him facedown, seizing both his wrists. He held them behind Gallant, pinning him there with his weight.

The son of a bitch was writhing, growling in pain, but Easton didn’t give a shit. “How many men did you bring here besides Greg?” he demanded, squeezing the broken wrist.

Gallant howled and arched, trying to throw him off. Easton didn’t budge.

“How many, asshole?” he yelled, out of patience. Piper, Austen and his dad were undefended back at the house. This pathetic son of a bitch had tried to kill them all.

“Two,” the guy snarled through gritted teeth, a trickle of blood snaking down the side of his face.

If he was telling the truth, it meant the dead guy Easton had just shot, and one more. “Where’s the other one?”

The guy was rigid beneath him, low growls of pain escaping his clamped lips. “I don’t know.”

“Fuck you.Where?”

Gallant grunted. “I dunno. West. Maybe southwest.”

Probably moving to the road on the west side of the property.

Still straddling Gallant’s prone body, Easton kept hold of the bastard’s wrists with one hand and pulled out his phone with the other to dial Jamie. His teammate had a Bluetooth in.

Jamie picked up but didn’t say anything, alerting Easton that he was either in pursuit or taking cover somewhere.

“There’s one shooter left,” Easton told him. “Likely moving west, toward the road. Gallant and another of his guys are down and cops should be here soon. Report in when you can.”

“Copy,” Jamie whispered back.

Easton disconnected and dialed the lead detective. After telling him what was going on and their location, the sound of distant sirens reached him. His next call was to his dad, who picked up immediately. “We got Gallant, and one of the shooters is down. Jamie and Charlie are in pursuit of the last one. You guys okay there?”

“I can hear the cops coming, they’re almost here. But Greg’s not gonna make it.”