Page 119 of Ravaged Saints

He’s there in seconds. “Find her,” I order, strapping on my gear. “Take Max with you.”

Max hands me my guns and bulletproof vest.

“What about Ethan and Bryn?” he asks, checking his rifle.

“Me and Dante will go after them.” They all nod, with no hesitation.

Dante appears with the radios, the four left that still work, and we’ll need every damn one.

“They can’t be far,” I growl, adjusting my vest. “Stay in radio range.”

I glance at the guys, all geared up, the BloodHawk symbol stitched onto our chests—a hawk with bleeding wings.

For a split second, I’m dragged back to that fucking mission.

The heat. The blood. The orders that got us burned.

Not again.

“If anyone shows up—shoot to kill.”

“Yes, Reaper.” They all answer.

We move slowly; there is something in the air, the trees are too still, the birds too quiet as if sensing what the fuck will happen, and I know deep down inside, things are about to change, and I just hope we all survive it.

“Reaper,” Dante whispers, pointing to the ground, footprints. Several, there is no way these are just from Bryn and Ethan. Someone else is out here.

“Recon.”I click on the radio.

“Reaper.”He responds almost immediately.

“We are not alone,”I inform them.

“Got it. Over and out.”

I still don’t understand what the fuck is going on. Is Ethan plotting with someone in town? Was that why he kept disappearing? Was I that blind? If anything happens to the guys, it will be on me. I let a fucking pussy cloud my judgment. She is in my mind all the fucking time!

What if she got caught? What if whoever is out here killed her?

We keep moving, pushing, trying to find any clue of where Ethan is, and if I find him, I will get my answers.

We hear footsteps and kneel, hiding our position in total silence. A scream echoes, and my heart almost jumps from my rib cage.

Aspen.

“Fuck!” I mutter, and Dante starts to move.

“Grit!” I call out, but he follows the scream. The idiot is going to get himself killed.

I follow him, my rifle aimed forward. We pick up the pace, but Dante stops at a clearing, kneeling behind an oak tree, and I kneel on the other side.

Aspen is on the ground; some guys stand on top of her.

“Hey man, he told us not to touch her.” The fucker says.

Is that blood on her clothes?! No… Fuck no…

“Is that guy—” Dante’s voice breaks. He stands, rifle sweeping the area, and I move behind him, back turned to cover his blind spots. He’s on him before he can even notice we are there.

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