In, one, two, three and out, one, two, three. Pulling away, Drake cleared his throat. “You couldn’t have grabbed me some sweatpants and a loose tee, could you?”
Craig smirked. “Just quit your bitchin’ and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Slipping on his shoes, Drake clutched his abdomen and shrugged at both men. “I’m ready. Where are we headed?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be secure, now would it?”
Drake tried to laugh but thought better of it, as it pulled the muscles in his side. With a small groan, he followed the two agents as they led the way out of the room. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bastard?”
It was Adam’s time to smirk. “Every day.”
Chapter 25
THE TREK to the black SUV parked on the second floor of the hospital parking garage had been slow but better than Drake had anticipated. Having been in bed since he was injured, any slight movement had generated a shooting pain to radiate from his stomach through to his lower back, but now that he was mobile, his body was gaining a tolerance to the pain. It wasn’t fun, by any means, but he could walk briskly down the never-ending flights of stairs without wanting to kill someone or himself. So, he took that as a positive.
They took the most roundabout way out of the hospital. If Drake hadn’t been ready to collapse into the fetal position and cry himself to sleep, he would have probably found it humorous. They went down two floors on the elevator, took the stairs up a floor, then the elevator down again another two floors, and then the stairs the rest of the way. Any other time, Drake would have really enjoyed the cloak-and-dagger routine. Hell, for someone who had lived in a perpetual shadow of lies and deception, he found their little procedure adorable, but he’d much rather have done it without a hole in his abdomen.
Finally, they made it to the parking garage. Drake took a moment, leaning his shoulder against the chilled concrete wall, to catch his breath. Adam stopped with him, running a hand up Drake’s back, then grasping his shoulder.
“You doing okay?”
Drake shrugged, pushing off the wall. “Peachy.”
“Yeah, you look like it,” Adam teased. As Drake started to move, Adam’s hand slid down Drake’s arm, and he shifted so he could support Drake as they walked. “It’s not that much farther. The car is right up there.”
Looking where Adam was indicating, Drake let out a tired laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
Craig reached the black SUV, pulling open the passenger door. He glanced back at Drake’s comment with a frown.
“What?”
Adam moved away to open the back door for Drake. Still caught in his incredulous chuckle, Drake shuffled his way into the vehicle.
“Did you make me walk all those stairs, some of them multiple times for shits and giggles? Because you can’t be seriously taking us to a secure location in the most obvious government vehicle to ever exist after that ridiculous jaunt around the hospital.”
Once Drake was situated in his seat, Adam closed the door and rushed to the other side of the car to jump in. He barely had his door closed before the SUV began its twisting way out of the garage.
The driver was another suit. This one a dark suit and matching black sunglasses, just perpetuating the whole law enforcement, Men in Black image.
“I mean, come on! Look at this guy.” Drake waved a hand at the suit. “There is no way that someone watching the hospital didn’t see him sitting in this car and say, ‘That’s it. That’s the one, follow that one.’”
Craig twisted around in his seat to eye Drake, one side of his lips tugged up in a half smile. “Haven’t you heard? The best way to hide is in plain sight.” Giving a wink, he twisted back to face front.
Drake laughed. “So that’s your strategy. Hide in plain sight. They can write that on my tombstone.”
Adam buckled himself in, gesturing for Drake to do the same. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll get you to a secure location.”
“Like where?” Drake asked, his voice louder than he intended. “Where can you put me where you can be sure that someone on Boredega’s payroll can’t find me?”
Adam shifted in his seat so he was facing Drake. “We can get you to a safe house where only a select few will know where you are. Those, only people we can trust.”
“You can’t trust anyone! Don’t you get it? Hasn’t anything that happened over the last few years sunk in?” Drake realized he was shouting and made a point to lower his voice. “Everyone has a price. Somebody you trust today could be bought or bribed tomorrow.”
Craig’s hard voice carried to the back seat. “What would you have us do? We can’t just leave you in the wind. You are a known member of Tony’s crew. Semblance is used as a money-laundering site for a cartel. It’s only because we were the first agency on the scene that you aren’t locked up in local PD custody, where you would be in the same cell as Jacob.”
“Or dead already,” Adam whispered, and it was only because Drake had been watching him while Craig ranted in the front seat that he saw the shiver accompanying the comment.
He wanted to continue the argument, wanted to make them see sense. None of them were safe. Not now, not while Boredega was still out there somewhere offering money for their heads and threatening harm on anyone who would have any information. But he bit his tongue.
If he was going to go underground, he would have to do it on his own, on his own terms and alone. He couldn’t have someone looking over his shoulder, checking in. He had to disappear.
Or he could do what he had planned on doing all along. He could take them out. As it was he was a dead man either way. He had no reason to hide any longer. Now he could just go in guns blazing, Punisher-style.
First, he had to get rid of the feds. They wouldn’t let him walk away, but Drake could be pretty resourceful when he needed to be. He was sure he would find his chance.
As much as he hated to think about it, Adam trusted him. What they’d had was strained to the point of practically nonexistence, but Drake knew the hope was still there. A useless hope that he knew he could use to his advantage. Just the thought raised a flurry of unease to clench in his gut, and he had to swallow around the bile buildup stuck in his throat.
“She didn’t have motive to falsify the drive,” Adam was saying as Drake faded back into the conversation. Craig was shaking his head in the front seat. Now he had a laptop on his lap and he was punching the keyboard.
“Yes, she did. She’s the guard dog Boredega sends out to find traitors, right? Maybe that’s what she was doing, only she got Jacob to do the dirty work. Two birds, one stone,” Craig said, and Drake turned his head to look out the window. The unfamiliar scenery indicated they were officially out of the city.
“But Jacob is Tony’s nephew—”
Drake broke in, “I don’t think that Boredega would hesitate to take out his own daughter if it would mean keeping his cover concealed.” He turned back to face Adam. “It’s what makes him so dangerous. He doesn’t hesitate to wipe out an entire task force just for revenge. He killed my entire family. My sister! She was thirteen years old and they killed her because my dad had gotten too close. My sister was just a kid. She didn’t know anything. How could she?”
Adam’s breath hitched as Drake spoke. He fidgeted in his seat as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. He reached out—to pull Drake into a hug? To comfort and sooth Drake’s furious pain? Drake would never know, because his hands dropped before they could complete their mission, and Drake wasn’t quite sure if the ache in his chest was disappointment or relief.
“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered so low that only Drake could hear him.
He tried to smile. Tried to reassure Adam, but the act of smiling took more strength than he was willing to give.
“That’s why we are getting you to a se—” Craig’s words were cut short by a cracking sound that sent chills down Drake’s spine.
Before anyone could react, before the sit
uation could be assessed, the driver, who had remained silent for the entirety of the ride, slumped forward in his seat, head resting against the steering wheel, arms slack at his sides.
The car jerked left in a hard turn, and Drake barely had time to brace himself before the SUV hit the guardrail, careening back to the right.
“Shit!” Drake heard Adam curse as suddenly they were on two wheels, traveling a small distance in a horizontal wheelie. Then everything turned to chaos. The SUV spun and flipped, shattering glass and crunching metal deafening in the madness. Unable to tell what was up and what was down and wedged in a tight embrace from the seat belt digging into his shoulder and hip, Drake dropped off into darkness.
“Drake.” The voice came from far away, but its frantic tone demanded attention. “Drake!” It said again with more force.
Drake blinked. He tried to focus, but his vision swam. Trying to sit up, he gasped as he became aware of blinding pain searing through him. His head, his abdomen, his arms, his legs, all of it ached and burned. He pressed a trembling hand against the wound in his abdomen, expecting to feel a hole the size of a baseball for the amount of pain, but his hand met bandages. He lifted his hand up to see if there was blood on his fingertips, but his eyes continued to swim behind a red haze.
He was bleeding, he realized. Blinking enough that his eyes watered. He was bleeding enough that it was pooling into his eyes. Drake swallowed around a bout of panic and tried to wipe at his eyes, shaking away some of the broken glass.
“Drake!” the voice shouted again, and Drake blinked around the red, looking for Adam. Blood coursed down Adam’s pale face, following the paths, the natural crevasses, mimicking tears. Drake felt spellbound by the sight. He wanted to touch it. He needed to feel it, press the blood between his fingers, smell the coppery odor. Because that blood was what made the man real. Not his name, whether it be Adam or Scotty, or if he was a bartender or a federal agent—that blood was what made the man real.
“What the fucking hell?” Another voice groaned from the front seat. More shattering glass sounded as Craig pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster.
The soft tinkling of glass shattering was overcome by the loud cracking echo of the car cushion as a bullet jarred the bucket seat Drake was still recuperating in. A poof of disintegrated cloth rose from where the bullet made impact.
“Sniper!” Adam shouted, finally escaping the belts once meant to protect their occupants, now holding them prisoner. After sliding down to the floor, he crawled toward Drake, who was still slowly returning to his senses. Adam pushed Drake’s vibrating hands away from the seat belt clasp and undid it himself, pulling Drake close.
“You okay?” Adam asked. His hands roamed up and down Drake’s body, probing for any sign of unknown injury. “You hit your head pretty solidly.”
“You’re not much better.” Drake’s voice slurred, much to his surprise.
Cursing, Craig unsuccessfully pulled at his door handle. When the handle clicked like the door should open but it didn’t move, the big man let out a shout and shouldered it open. He fell out of the car, rolling to a crouch, using the door as a cover. His gun held at the ready, Craig shouted into his cell phone, requesting immediate backup and reporting an officer down. He barked commands while simultaneously scouting the area. The world came slamming back into focus, and Drake pushed Adam’s searching hands away.
Another bullet whizzed past, embedding itself in a twist of metal and plastic in the seat next to Drake, and Adam dodged in the small area, ending up against Drake’s chest.
“Jesus Christ!” Adam’s breath was hot against Drake’s neck. “We need to get out of here!”
“We need backup, now!” Craig yelled into his phone before tossing it back onto the seat. “We have incoming!”
Adam lifted his head enough to peer out at Craig’s shout. Over his shoulder, Drake could see the approaching vehicle coming in fast. The car was still a distance away, but as it approached, it gained more speed. As torn up as their current vehicle was, there was no way it could take another solid impact.
“Shit,” Drake breathed as it dawned on him that the car definitely was not going to stop. He twisted, pushing hard against the door. It didn’t budge. He hit along it, trying to find the lock or any reason that it wouldn’t open.
Realizing that the cause of the jam had nothing to do with the locking mechanism, Drake turned back to Adam, who now had his own gun drawn. And even though they didn’t have time, even though they were going to get crushed if they didn’t get out of the car, Drake couldn’t help but notice that the look suited Adam just fine. But the thought passed as he eyed the car that had seemed to double its speed.
He continued his struggle with the door. “It’s stuck!”
“Go out the window. I’ll cover you!” Craig shouted.
Drake eyed the speeding car, and although he wasn’t the best at math, there was one thing he could tell for certain.
“We can’t both make it.” He turned, wide-eyed, to Adam. “We can’t both make it out!”
Adam pushed Drake toward the window. “Go!” he shouted. “When you get out, go for cover and get as far away as you can!”
Drake shook his head frantically, and he bunched his fist in Adam’s suit, unwilling to let go.
Adam pulled Drake harshly to him and mashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. Violently pushing Drake away, Adam tried to shove him through the window.
“Neither of us are going to make it if you don’t go! If you go now, I can try to make it out the front! Go! Now!”
Four hard gunshots rang loud in Drake’s ears as Craig laid down cover, shooting at the car that was alarmingly close. Drake pushed himself up to the window as another few shots were fired. The last shot answered in a thundering boom as the approaching car lurched as its front tire blew. It swerved left and right as the driver tried to get the fishtail under control. Oversteering one too many times made the car spin. It traveled toward them, the metal grating along the pavement, sending sparks flying. The car slid toward them now horizontally.
In one, two, three. No time!
Drake closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the smell of burnt rubber in the air. Not giving himself time to think, he dropped out the window, falling heavily onto his back, just as the approaching car made impact. Pushing away from the metal monstrosity with his foot, Drake ignored the searing pain of skin tearing against glass and pavement, then pulled his limbs into the fetal position, protecting himself as much as he could from a metal beast skidding toward him. Metal ground and groaned as they twisted around each other. Glass and rocks flew, pelting Drake, but he held his position. Even though the crash was greatly simplified due to the other car’s loss of control, it was still enough to send both vehicles back a couple of feet.
Eyes clenched, Drake waited for the impact to hit him, because there was no way he was going to make it out of this alive. But as he gritted his teeth, braced for the pain he knew was to come, the screeching metal stopped. Letting out the breath he had been holding, Drake eyed the cars warily.
Two men were inside the car that rammed them. From what he could see, the passenger’s head hung loosely with blood running thickly down his head onto his neck and shoulders. Drake couldn’t see the driver side of the vehicle, but the cursing coming from inside indicated that he was far more conscious than his buddy.
Rolling to his stomach, Drake pushed himself to his hands and knees and quickly regained his feet. Shooting a hasty look around, he tried to spot a place for cover. They were in the middle of a service drive. No houses or business could be seen in either direction. They were well out of the city and seriously lacking coverage.
Drake cursed, then breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted a gray metal power box fifty yards down the road. Smiling, he started toward the box, but gunfire behind him pulled him short. He turned, searching frantically for the source of the gunfire.
Craig was on his feet, using their ruined SUV door
as a shield, gun drawn. He aimed at the now demolished vehicle that had collided into them, shouting for the man to exit the vehicle with his hands up.
Drake’s heart raced. He didn’t see the man he was looking for. Had Adam made it out of the car before the collision? Was he still inside? Jesus, was he bleeding and broken?
The pounding of his heartbeat drummed through his ears, eliminating all other sound. Deaf and blind to the world, Drake started back toward the mangle of metal with a limp. His body ached, but he pressed forward.
Adam had to be okay. He had to be.
A breath away from running back to the wreckage to search for any sign of Adam, Drake watched as Craig staggered back from the force of a bullet to his chest. He couldn’t stop the inhale of panicked breath as the large man toppled back, lying flat.
Drake’s hobble turned into more of a gallop as he became even more determined to get back to the chaos and the rubble. Dropping low so the SUV mostly covered him, he was almost to the fallen man when Adam crawled out of the heap of metal and knelt beside his sprawled partner.
Blood rushed in his ears, as Drake felt a tidal wave of relief crash around him. His knees collapsed beneath him, and he knelt on the ground watching as Adam checked over his partner, who grabbed his wrist and then pushed him away.
Drake watched. His body ached to go to Adam, to sweep him away from all of this disaster and carry him to safety. But the rest of him, no matter how reluctantly, couldn’t move, couldn’t take those few steps. So, he stayed and watched as Adam took Craig’s gun and wound around the door to return fire.
As if sensing his inaction, Adam twisted, and even from that far distance, the world stopped as their eyes met.
Semblance Page 21