Page 59 of Breaking Conviction
The thrill of the fight flowed through him like an electric current, and he channeled all his anger at the enemy in front of him, finally able to let loose.
“Make sure not to kill them, Dexter!”
That’s fine. It’s no fun when it’s over, anyway.
Wes and Phoenix worked in tandem around Ascot’s unconscious body, attacking their respective target with fluid strikes. The guards were good, obviously well trained, but he and Phoenix were better. Individually and as a team.
His blood sang with excitement during the familiar dance. He and Phoenix had been on the same team one way or another for eight and a half years. Their friendship was strained now, but their muscle memory and instinct didn’t have that kind of petty drama.
He and Phoenix played off each other, exchanging kicks and strikes until finally Phoenix took a hit to the gut hard enough to make him pause. Wes sent an uppercut straight to Phoenix’s guy’s jaw, knocking him out cold. But the selfless act cost him.
Wes’s open torso was perfect for the man’s front kick to connect with Wes’s ribs, sending him into the wall. The guy charged at Wes and he braced himself for impact only to see the guy’s eyes widen as he seized up and collapsed rigidly to the side, jerking and contracting as 1.8 microcoulombs and fifty thousand volts of electricity flowed from Phoenix’s Taser down the two barbs into the guy’s neck.
“Let’s go.” Phoenix said as he laid the Taser on the sofa, no doubt to make sure to leave the Taser’s barbs in the man’s skin. If Phoenix took the Taser, the current would immediately cease, and if the man were a professional, he’d likely be able to get up like nothing happened.
Wes grunted and swallowed back the pain in his ribs before shuffling around the man jerking on the floor. He bent to pick up Ascot but hissed at the ache. After a fortifying breath, Wes exhaled through the pain and maneuvered Ascot across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
“Jesus H. Christ dude, hurry up. We only have twenty-seven seconds left.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Wes gritted out under the weight and his screaming torso. “I rigged the Taser to shock that long in the first place.”
But Phoenix was already out the door. He had a point. As soon as the charge ceased on the Taser, the guy would be shaken up, but no worse for the wear.
Wes huffed as he followed Phoenix without looking back. Hopefully, the asshole on the floor was feeling every one of those 1.8 microcoulombs of incapacitating agony. After stupidly trying his invention on himself, Wes knew from experience it hurt like hell.
“Hey! Over here,” Devil stage-whispered a few feet ahead of them as he pushed open the exit. Wes squinted at the bright sun and clear blue sky, but his vision quickly adjusted. Tires squealed as Hawk nearly drove up on the curb. Devil thankfully had Wes’s back as he carried Ascot across his shoulders on the way down the stairs. Phoenix jogged down the stairs to open Hawk’s trunk, scanning the parking lot as he did.
“Coast’s clear, I think. You’ll have to do your techno-magic on the cameras though, for sure.”
Wes grunted and dropped Ascot into the open trunk, making sure to finish cuffing the bastard before they closed him in.
Without another word, Devil and Phoenix ran to Phoenix’s Camaro while Wes rounded Hawk’s sedan. As soon as Wes’s ass hit the leather seat, Hawk peeled out behind Phoenix.
“So you knocked him out, huh?” Hawk’s tone was neutral, but Wes heard the undercurrent of anger in his voice.
“Yes. But it ended up working out, didn’t it? We got the target and—”
“—and our cover blown to pieces. You’re going to have to fix that.”
Wes swiped his face. “I know, man. I just—”
“You know the rules, brother. Fight it out in training or talk it out in therapy. The crew is a warrior. Devil’s the fists. Jaybird’s the heart and he’s preoccupied with Jules about to pop at any moment. Draco’s the legs and we’ve been cut at the knees with him in a coma. I’m the backbone and Phoenix is—”
“The dick?” Wes snorted. “For fuck’s sake, don’t tell me he’s the soul or some shit.”
“Fuck you, man. I’m a soldier, not a goddamn poet.”
“It’s a terrible analogy, Hawk.”
“Whatever. The point is, we can’t have our brain malfunctioning. I need you firing on all cylinders.” Wes rested his elbow on the window ledge, trying to calm his knee as it jerked with adrenaline, and resisted rolling his eyes before Hawk continued. “You’re hyped up on the fight. Your hands are bloody. What if Naomi sees you like this—”
“She won’t,” he growled out.
“You’re damn right she won’t. But it’s more than that. Shecan’tsee this side of you and look at you the same way. Not after what she’s been through. You should get that better than anyone. You’ll terrify her if she sees this side. You know that, right?”
Wes’s hands trembled and he tightened them into a fist, noting the small cuts on three of the knuckles, despite their calluses from training. He closed his eyes and mentally buried down the memories, the nightmares, therage. Finally, he swallowed and answered his leader.
“I know.”
