Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
He had no time to wallow in self-pity over Ezra finding out his secret, or worrying what would happen now that he knew. Saving him was the only thing that mattered.
Thinking would have been a waste of time, so Frank acted as soon as he reached the vehicle. He squatted, grabbed the chassis, and lifted the damn thing with a roar.
His thighs were on fire, his arms screamed in pain, and every tendon in his body warned him against continuing with this feat, but Frank stretched his back and pulled the Jeep higher. He didn’t feel as though he inhabited his body anymore, forcing it to work like a puppeteer steering the muscles from somewhere beyond his body.
Lifting the car wasn’t optional. It had to be done, so he did it.
He huffed, his body one buzzing ball of agony, but wouldn’t let go if it killed him.
Ezra’s cries spurred him on, but then dark silhouettes appeared at his side, and men joined him, relieving some of the strain on his back and joints.
“Someone grab him!” he uttered, breathless from the effort.
Dex’s pale hair flashed at the edge of his vision as his nephew descended into the trap, and moments later, Hammer’s voice cut through the night like an axe.
“Higher, come on!”
Frank didn’t hesitate. He felt as if his lungs were about to be squashed from the pressure on all sides, but then someone slapped his shoulder, giving him permission to rest.
“He’s out!”
Frank let go, and the abrupt change made his muscles tremble so badly he dropped to his knees. But when he saw Ezra surrounded by others, and the blood staining the ground where he’d been dragged out, he crawled over on hands and knees, manic in his need to act.
Someone turned on a flashlight, but what it revealed was worse than Frank could have imagined. Ezra’s face was covered in so much blood it was hard to tell where it all originated, his T-shirt was ripped open, revealing bruises, and one of his fingers twisted at an unnatural angle.
“We have to… get him… to the hospital,” Frank rasped, shocked at how exhausted he was. He could barely speak and couldn’t afford to break down like a used car.
When Ezra gurgled blood, Cyclops pushed his way forward with a first aid kit he got from fuck knew where. “Turn his head, or he’ll choke,” he commanded.
“We need to go… to the ER,” Frank mumbled, but when Ezra whimpered, looking at the sky as if he were seeing something other than the moon and stars, Frank placed his hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Can you hear me? It’s Frank. We’ll get you out of this.”
Ezra shuddered when Cyclops ripped his T-shirt all the way open. Frank was ready to growl, but Dex’s presence held him back from the edge of sanity.
“I’ll drive, Frank.”
Frank wanted to rip Cyclops’s hand away when it roamed over Ezra’s chest but stopped himself for long enough for the biker to say, “I think his ribs are broken.”
No, fucking, shit.
Frank watched as another pair of hands put bandages over Ezra’s face while he stared, still shocked by what just happened.
Frank was usually the one to keep it together for everyone’s sake, but now he couldn’t even help Ezra, because his hands were shaky and so weak he couldn’t have picked up a plastic cup. He was useless, and his brain didn’t seem to be working right, as if he were half-asleep.
“Get a blanket from my truck, so we can carry him safely,” he choked out, desperate to take control of the situation, because who else would ensure Ezra’s survival? Only he cared.
Amber eyes turned to him in the stark glow of the flashlight, and Frank squeezed Ezra’s arm. “I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.”
Ezra blinked but didn’t make a sound, staring at him from behind the white strips of fabric that were already changing color.
A part of him feared his boy might not make it, but every cell in his body knew it would be okay. It had to. He would not accept any other outcome.
Moments later, four people moved Ezra’s limp form to the improvised stretcher, and he didn’t even make a peep, breathing fast as Frank rose with Hammer’s aid and followed him to the truck.
Shane appeared out of nowhere, and helped Frank into the bed, following right behind him.
“What the fuck happened?” he asked as Dex started the engine, and Hammer jumped in from the passenger’s side.
Frank huffed, gently stroking Ezra’s blood-soaked hair with his limp fingers. “He fell into… Jag’s trap.”
“What was he doing here?” Shane asked, wide-eyed, but he still leaned over Ezra to keep him secure in case the trip got bumpy.
“We’ll clear the way!” Lion yelled from the side and was off on his motorcycle.
Frank shook his head. “I don’t know. It happened too fast.”