The next thing I knew, I was bursting into a small office and pointing two pistols in a man’s face. How I got there, I couldn’t remember. All of my thoughts were consumed in a blinding rage. That poor boy had lived through hell only to die alone in a box.
He didn’t deserve what had happened to him.
No one Smith had harmed deserved it.
Bloodlust had taken over, and I didn’t even pretend to fight it. Everything that had happened to me over the past year had led to that moment.
The man frozen in front of me sat before a series of security monitors. A few of the screens were nothing but snow, though a handful showed people dressed in all black shooting at men in gray suits.
Drew had found me. I didn’t know how, but he’d found me.
Knowing that my best friend was mounting a rescue attempt pulled back the veil of red clouding my thoughts and judgment for a moment. There was no telling how many of Smith’s men were out there. Drew and his team might not be able to take all of them on. He might need my help if all of us were going survive.
And then I thought of Jamie missing an entire section of his head and the fury returned. I remembered my last kiss with Sammy. With that, the majority of my rationality left for Splitsville.
He came to help you, Sammy sighed softly. Like I did. He’ll die in the dirt like me. Let it go, Asher. Be with me forever.
I shook my head, jammed a pistol against the guard’s cheek. “Where is Todd?”
“Who?” He held my gaze, eyes betraying no fear. His voice stayed calm, relaxed.
“Tod… Smith. Where is Smith?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll kill you without a second thought and find him myself.”
“Be my guest.”
I grunted. He’d called my bluff. None of Smith’s men deserved to live, but that didn’t mean I was willing to kill an unarmed combatant. At that moment, I wished that part of my conscience would go away. Even through my anger, I had that little bit of humanity in there that kept me from pulling the trigger.
Movement in one of the snowy monitors caught my attention as I mulled over what to do. Briggs stepped from the rear of a building and plunged through a row of overgrown brush. Drew practically fell out of the building behind Briggs. He hobbled along after the big Texan. One of his legs didn’t seem to be cooperating with him. Even though the quality of the video wasn’t top of the line, I could still see wet splotches on Drew’s clothing.
Someone had shot him.
The guard sitting in front of the monitors exploded from the chair in a flash. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me from the ground, driving us out of the room and into the hall.
Before I could angle one of the pistols at his back and shoot him, the man pivoted and slammed me onto the floor. The concussive force of the blow sent one of the guns flying from my grasp, skidding down the hall.
I held onto the other one, though the shock from the slam froze my muscles. None of my limbs wanted to cooperate. Hell, my lungs had decided to take a coffee break while I bled all over myself on the floor.
On his knees beside me, the guard smashed my wrist against the floor until I dropped the gun.
He reached for it.
The pain from the blows woke my nervous system.
I grabbed hold of his forearm and yanked him back.
His fingers brushed the grip of the gun before he slid away.
He pivoted, struck me across the face with a backfist. My head rocked back, stars twinkling in my vision for a moment, but I didn’t let go of his arm.
I yanked him closer with my left hand while my right shot out like a piston. My knuckles grazed his ear as he slipped the punch and then drove an elbow into my chest, pinning me back to the floor.
He was a good fighter. A damn good fighter.
I was better.
If he wanted to keep the fight on the ground, I’d happily oblige. He might have a chance to beat me on our feet, but on our backs, I’d strangle him to death with superior jiu-jitsu.
I heaved his arm down even further, until his hand was beside my shoulder, then I swung a leg across his face and locked in an armbar. The back of my legs pressed against his face and chest while I pulled against his wrist with both hands.
His arm slowly straightened out as I pushed against it with my hips until his elbow wouldn’t extend any further. Then I put even more pressure on it. I felt the joint begin to hyperextend.
Even though the pain must have been enormous, the man’s face remained calm as I dislocated his elbow. It gave way and all the tension ran out of the hold. The joint bent the wrong way.
Rather than give up, the man used the dislocation to counter. He rotated his body against my legs, rolling over until he faced the floor. That twisted his wrist in my hands even though I squeezed as hard as I could to keep him in place. All the blood, sweat, and grime covering every inch of my body made him too slippery.
As he spun free of the armbar, his elbow popped back in place. He pushed to his knees, then his feet. He worked his arm several times as he stood over me, grinning.
I kicked out, catching him on the chin with my heel.
His teeth clacked together.
Eyes glazed over.
He fell forward, landing on top of me.
If not for the fact that he was trying to kill me, it would have been really awkward having a dude straddling me while I was butt naked.
I shifted left, snaked an arm around his neck, and slipped my head behind his shoulder. Squeezing with everything I had, I cut off the blood flow to his brain with an arm-triangle choke.
He slumped in the hold after less than ten seconds.
A snore escaped his lips.
I released the hold and shoved him off me. He landed on his side with a thud. Then he snored again. With a groan, I got up and braced myself against the wall for a moment. It had been a long day of ass kickings and torture.
At the end of the hall, I spotted a staircase.
“I’m coming for you, Todd.”
I bent over the man and removed his belt, then lashed his hands together with it.
He mumbled and his eyes fluttered as I hauled him to his feet. The thing about chokeholds that they never show you in movies was they don’t keep someone out for long. Most people woke up after a few seconds.
After picking up the pistols, I shoved him toward the stairwell.