Easton's Claim (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 3) (20 page)

“Is Gallant one of them?” Easton demanded.

Greg managed a nod and Piper squeezed his hand tighter, willing him to hang on. God, there was so much blood. The smell of it turned her stomach.

“Was moving…east.”

Easton got on his phone and began giving rapid instructions to whoever he’d called.

Greg focused back on her face, and the sheen of tears that flooded his eyes nearly broke her. “S-sorry. Tried to stop this.” His lips pressed together, nostrils flaring, and turned his head to the side, a stream of blood trickling out of the corner. He spat it out and gasped, his icy grip clutching her hand. “Gallant’s goon saw you carrying something from the shed.” He paused, gasped again. “Then he ordered the attack.”

The tears she’d been fighting flooded her eyes. He’d known she was in danger, had pushed past the pain in his battered body and summoned the strength to somehow escape Gallant and his men, then take off through the woods in a last-ditch attempt to warn her before they shot him down. He’d let her down so many times in the past, but tonight he’d risked his life to protect her.

“Please go,” he rasped out, his strength already fading fast.

“Shhh,” she soothed. “Already told you, I’m not leaving. Just be still so I can slow the bleeding.” No amount of pressure she applied was going to help him now, he’d lost so much blood, but she hoped he didn’t realize it. The bullet had hit an artery. His belly and lap were already soaked in blood and he was deep in shock.

He gazed up at her, eyes filled with torment. “Still love you,” he slurred. “Always.”

“I know,” she murmured, and wiped away tears with her shoulder before focusing back on the blood-soaked gauze she pressed to his wound.

Greg focused on Easton, who had ended his phone call, his attention riveted beyond the barn doorway. “She deserves…better than what I gave her,” Greg gasped out. Easton’s gaze snapped to his, anger burning there. “Take…take care of her for me.”

Easton nodded once. “I will.”

The simple conviction in his voice had her biting back a sob. She loved Easton, and even though Greg’s past actions had hurt and humiliated her, she didn’t want him to die, least of all like this, afraid and in pain. But the blood continued to soak the gauze pads Easton had given her. It didn’t seem to matter how hard she pressed, she couldn’t slow the bleeding.
Please don’t let him die.

People rushed into the opposite end of the barn. Wyatt, Jamie and Charlie. Then Mr. C’s gruff voice split the quiet.

“I’ll stay with them,” he said to Easton as he shuffled his way over, moving twice as fast as she’d seen him since the stroke. “You and the others go get those sons of bitches.”

Fear congealed in her stomach at the thought of Easton and the others trying to hunt down Gallant and his men. Piper opened her mouth to argue but Easton stopped her with a terse shake of his head.

“No,” he said tersely. “I have to go. You stay here with Greg and my dad, where you’ll be safe.”

A wave of dread crashed over her. She couldn’t take it if anything happened to him. “Please just wait, the police are on the way—”

It was a waste of breath. Easton was already pushing to his feet, and the hard mask on his face sent a shiver up her spine. She’d never seen this side of him before, the stone cold operator inside the devil-may-care man she’d known for so long. He was going out there no matter what, and nothing she said or did would change his mind.

Whoever had come onto his land to hunt his family tonight was going to die.

Rage and adrenaline blasted through Easton as he turned to face the others. “I’m going after Gallant.” His voice was a menacing growl. The cops might be on their way but Easton wasn’t waiting around for them, and he wasn’t allowing the attackers to target his family again.

“I’ll go with you,” Wyatt said.

Easton nodded. “Jamie—”

“I’ll check the western perimeter.”

“I’m coming with you,” Charlie said to him.

Jamie whirled to face her, expression like a thundercloud. “No way.”

“I’m going.” She barely acknowledged him, her voice pure steel. Easton didn’t argue, because Charlie was more than capable of taking care of herself out there, and trusted Jamie to have her back.

“All of you watch your sixes out there,” his dad told them.

“Be careful,” Piper said, her gaze locked on him, eyes full of fear.

She had both hands pressed against Greg’s stomach, her skin stained and slick with his blood. In shock and afraid, but hanging in there and doing what needed to be done. He loved her so damn much, and he was going to make sure Gallant didn’t get near her.

He nodded once, softened his expression to reassure her. “I will. You stay here with my dad and Austen. Love you.” He turned to Wyatt before she could argue, the operator in him needing to move, to end this threat right the fuck now. They’d use their knowledge of the land and track the attackers down. “Let’s go.”

In the thin beams of moonlight streaming through the open barn door, his brother’s face was set in harsh lines. Wyatt was ready to kick some ass. He handed Easton a rifle he’d brought from the house and together they moved to the south entrance. They paused on either side of the doorway.

Outside, everything was quiet, the porch light illuminating the backyard. Not good. The moment they set foot outside the protection of the barn, they’d be exposed. But they couldn’t sit here and wait for the shooters to come get them.

Though he hated to leave the others here, he had no choice, and his dad would do everything in his power to keep the two women safe. It had to be enough because Easton and Wyatt had to take Gallant down to eliminate the threat.

In full op mode, he darted out of the barn and ran for the shadows hugging the east side of the barn, dropped to his belly in the grass behind the pasture fence. Wyatt sprawled next to him a few seconds later and together they scanned the area. “He’ll be in the woods.”

Wyatt nodded. “We’ll cut him off.”

Easton geared up for the coming run, then shot to his feet and took off down the fence line. He’d grown up hunting with the rifle in his hands, but right now he wished he had his M4 with him, and night optics.

Just as he reached the far end of the pasture, a shot rang out. The top rail beside him exploded into a shower of splinters. He veered right and kept running, aiming for the cover of the trees. He couldn’t see anyone but he now had a good idea where the next shooter was.

Behind him, a crash splintered the quiet, followed by a loud whoosh. He ducked and whirled to see the south end of the barn completely engulfed in flames.

Piper!

A figure darted away from the burning building. Gallant. The bastard had somehow doubled back without them noticing and firebombed the barn.

Easton didn’t have time to go after him. His only thought was to protect Piper and get the others out of there. The automatic sprinkler system would go on, but that wouldn’t stop the smoke and Piper and the others had to get out.

Wyatt’s running steps pounded behind him as he ran for the barn, heart in his throat. Gallant had lit one end of the barn to force the occupants out the other end. There had to be a shooter waiting to take them out when they did.

He aimed for the north end of the barn, rifle up, scanning the darkness beyond. It was hard enough to see anything out there, but the flames ruined his ability to see beyond the barn.

He was halfway to it when a flurry of movement erupted from the north end. His lungs seized, a cry of warning building in his throat, then big shadows began flowing out of the open door.

Horses. His dad and Austen must have opened the stalls and flushed the horses out.

The animals raced out into the night, their wet, glistening bodies silhouetted by the glow of the flames on the other end of the barn. Heat licked over his skin as he got closer, the acrid smoke drifting on the breeze thick enough to make his throat burn and his eyes water.

Whinnying and shying in fear, the horses bolted out of the barn and raced around in confusion. Then he saw Austen emerge with his father, his arm draped over her strong shoulders as she hustled him outside, using the cover the confused mass of horses provided, and hunkered down behind the cover of the barn’s eastern wall.

No Piper.

“Where’s Piper?” he shouted, but Austen was already up and racing back into the burning building. It relieved him a little that she’d been a firefighter, that she was trained for this, but that was still the woman he loved in there and he wouldn’t be okay until he knew Piper was all right.

He and Wyatt had almost reached the edge of the pasture when she and Piper emerged moments later, dragging Greg by his armpits. “Stay d—”

The upper railing of the fence exploded to his right.

He ducked and kept running, had no idea where the shot had come from. He reached the barn just as Austen and Piper dragged Greg over to where Easton’s dad crouched against the barn wall, pistol in hand.

Easton skidded to his knees beside Piper. He dropped the rifle and took her face in his hands. Those hazel-green eyes focused on him, wide but clear. “Christ,” he muttered and crushed her to him.

“I’m okay,” she said in a small voice, arms clinging to his back, her words muffled by his chest. He glanced to the left to see Wyatt holding Austen. His dad was kneeling next to Greg.

“He’s unconscious,” his father said.

Easton nodded and scanned the immediate vicinity. Every second he stayed here cost him the chance of hunting down Gallant, and right now they were all grouped together in one tempting target. He couldn’t go after the shooters until Piper and the others were safely behind solid cover, but with Gallant and at least two other shooters on the loose, was anywhere on the property secure anymore?

“We’ll go in the house,” his dad said. “You boys go. We’ll be okay.”

Screw that. Easton swiveled and faced the house’s back porch. That damn light on was going to get someone killed if they tried to get back inside now.

Seeing no other alternative, he picked up his rifle and aimed it at the porch light. Glass shattered as the bullet hit, plunging the back yard into relative darkness. The flickering flames on the barn were dying out, but there was no time to waste. They’d have to risk moving now. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed Piper’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “You run straight across the backyard and into the kitchen. Don’t stop, no matter what happens. Got me?”

“Yes,” she answered.

When he turned to look at the others Austen already had his dad on his feet, her arm solid around his waist. Wyatt had Greg draped over his wide shoulders. “I’ll cover all of you.” He moved toward the burning end of the barn, raised his rifle to his shoulder and aimed into the darkness beyond toward the western pasture. “Go.”

They ran. Their rushing steps hustled over the grass and gravel behind him as he fired several closely-spaced shots to keep any would-be shooters pinned down. The back screen door slapped shut. “Wyatt?” he called out, loud as he dared.

“Meet you in the eastern pasture in a minute.”

Perfect.

Leaving Piper and the others in the best cover he could offer at the moment, he turned and ran through the darkness toward the eastern pasture. Wyatt burst out of the cellar trap door and ran toward him, weapon up and ready.

The report of a rifle echoed through the night and a round sizzled past his head.

Easton whirled toward the direction the shot had come from, savage satisfaction roaring through him.
You just gave yourself away, asshole.
A fatal mistake.

Rage pumped hot in Easton’s veins but he forced it back and kept his gaze trained on the darkened tree line beyond the pasture. The shooter was out there somewhere, and Easton hoped it was Gallant. Because Easton was going to hunt him down.

Up ahead beyond the pasture, the dense band of forest beckoned. He knew every inch of the ground here. Gallant and his men might have the advantage of surprise, concealment and night vision capability, but they didn’t know the land like he and Wyatt did. Didn’t know the trails and the shortcuts that led to the road, where the shooter was likely heading.

And now that Easton and Wyatt were both coming after him, the bastard would either have to risk attacking them flat out, or run.

He slipped into the woods, carefully placing his steps to make the least amount of noise possible on the carpet of fallen leaves. The sweet, earthy scent wrapped around him, giving him comfort and added strength. He’d been hunting out here since he was a kid, knew every inch of this property.

A gnarled, ancient oak tree that marked the start of a footpath stood sentinel to his right, its huge canopy of spreading branches still adorned with turning leaves. Easton slipped behind the massive trunk and waited, listening, while Wyatt paused behind a broken trunk a few yards away.

Gallant was nothing but a thug who’d run with gangsters and wannabes on the streets. Now he was cut off from his men and up against two SOF trained Marines in the dark, on their home turf. Easton hoped the bastard was the one in front of him right now, and that Gallant was shitting his pants.

Nothing moved in the stillness on the forest floor. The only sound was the breeze blowing through the branches overhead, a gentle sighing with an occasional creak.

Easton paused, pulse beating steady and slow as he waited for his quarry to make a move. The underbrush was too thick for a man to move through without giving himself away and slowing him down. That left the footpath as his only remaining escape route to the road, other than trying to get past Easton and Wyatt.

Either way, he wasn’t making it out of here tonight.

A quiet snap sounded behind him and slightly to the left. Easton turned his head a fraction and focused on the spot, waiting in place. A minute later, leaves rustled.

Nice and calm, Easton eased around the huge tree trunk and angled his upper body to get a look. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement to his left.

Gotcha.