So Far Gone in You(Primal Heat 2)(41)

When they entered what appeared to be a spacious main floor of the factory, Coop staggered slightly. There, on the floor, still bound in chains was Karidon.

Coop shifted into his human form and raced to his best friend. He dropped to his knees and carefully turned Karidon over, gasping at how bloody and bruised the man was. He had whip marks all over his back, and his eye was swollen to the point that it was nothing more than puffy, puckered skin. It didn’t even look like an eye. There was deep bruising all along his jaw. Coop glanced down to see a perfect imprint of a boot on Karidon’s chest.

With his heart in his throat, Coop pressed his fingers against Karidon’s neck and nearly collapsed with relief when he found a faint rhythm beating at his fingertips. He growled as he removed the collar from Karidon’s neck and tossed it aside.

“We have to get him to the hospital,” Coop said.

Karidon moaned and twisted in Coop’s arms. “No, no more,” he said in a strangled whisper. “I’m sorry, Dad. Please. No more.”

Bile rose to the back of Coop’s throat as he pulled Karidon against him and rocked his best friends in his arms. “You’re safe, Karidon. Coop has you.”

Memories flooded Coop as he remembered being in this situation more than once. How many times had Karidon’s father beaten him, only for Karidon to show up on Coop’s doorstep bloody with something broken? Coop’s dad had mended Karidon too many times to count. Coop had held his best friend in his arms as Karidon wept more times than was sane.

Coop curled his hands into fists as he whispered, “They’ll pay, Kar. Fisher and Craig will pay for this.”

“Coop,” Talyn said as he and the other Enforcers entered the area. The other men stared down at Karidon, and Coop could see the anger and pain in their eyes.

Talyn knelt and unwound the chains from around Karidon’s wrists. The alpha placed his hand on Karidon’s shoulder. “Let Quad take you and Karidon to Sweeney. The omega will heal Karidon better than any hospital will.”

Coop shook his head as he clutched Karidon close. “I want revenge.” His voice didn’t sound as if it belonged to him. It had come out deep and demonic.

“And you’ll get your revenge,” Talyn said, “but Karidon comes first.”

Coop’s head snapped up when he heard clapping. His eyes widened until they stretched too wide and hurt. Talyn stood, and his entire body went rigid.

“It was you who put a price on their heads?” Talyn asked. “But they killed you.”

The blond tucked his arms over his chest, and an evil smirk appeared. “They should learn to check a body before they take off. And since they tried to kill me, I was only repaying the favor.”

Coop snarled the man’s name. “Hans.”



* * * *



Olin watched as Syn jerked from the table, gun in hand before the guy turned and grabbed him from the chair. Olin wasn’t sure what Syn was doing until he shoved Olin under the kitchen table. Olin went under there with no complaint, but he willed the person on the other side of the door to be friendly. He couldn’t take any more drama. He’d had his fill for one night.

Syn pressed his index finger to his lips. Olin knew to be quiet. What did Syn think he would do, shout a warning to the prowler? Olin scowled at Syn, and Syn winked at him. The only silent thing Olin could do was shake his head. Syn looked away and slid silently to the back door. Olin’s stomach tightened.

The door handle jiggled. That wasn’t good. Someone was checking to see if the door was unlocked. Had he locked it when he walked in? Olin couldn’t remember.

Syn spread his legs apart in a stance as he held the gun out in front of him in a teacup hold. Olin pressed his hands over his ears. He wanted to close his eyes, but he had to know who they were dealing with.

The door creaked open. Olin curled his lips in to stop himself from breathing too loudly. He felt as if he would suffocate by the time the door fully opened to reveal Mrs. Coldfish.

Olin nearly passed out when a whoosh of air escaped his lips and his lungs stopped burning from lack of oxygen.

Syn whipped the gun behind his back as he smiled. “What are you doing up this early in the morning?”

Syn moved aside to allow the elderly woman in. She had a woven basket in her hands that held a red-and-white checkered cloth and a mound of muffins that smelled heavenly.

“I saw the boy park in my driveway and thought I’d bring over these muffins. If I leave them on the table, Chester will devour them.”

Chester. Her ten-year-old great nephew. “He’s growing so fast. Are you sure Talyn doesn’t need his help in any capacity?”