They emerged from the store, with some burly motherfucker all but dragging Sparrow behind him by the hair. “The fucking bitch shot me in my foot.”
Pride filled Mason, but it was short-lived when the bastard holding onto her lifted her head so they could see her face. She was already sporting a nasty fucking bruise on the side of her cheek. A low growl left him at the sight, and he felt his heart start to pound and adrenalin pump through his veins.
“Let me go, you fat fuck.”
The man holding her grunted when she swung out and connected with his huge gut. Mason took a step forward, needing to take her and put her behind them so they could protect her.
“I don’t think so.” He snapped his head toward the “leader,” who had his gun not trained on him but on Sparrow. “I don’t mind shooting her, having my way with her, and then letting her bleed out. It would be a shame to let something that fine go to waste, but I’m not above it. Martin, bring her over here.” The other five men kept their guns trained on Mason and Ash, but that wasn’t what he was concentrating on.
He kept his eyes locked on Sparrow, and the way the fat fuck shoved her at the so-called leader of the group. He wrapped his arm around her, and she closed her eyes when he pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple.
“Now, I could shoot you guys right now and be done with it, but that would be senseless. So, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. Me and my boys are going to take her back to camp, and you two are going to keep trekking on.” When neither of them said anything, he continued, “Boys, I’m being very generous right now. If you don’t want to take my generosity, I’ll shoot her in the fucking throat, let her bleed out in front of you, and put a few bullets in your kneecaps before leaving you here.” He cocked a bushy eyebrow at them and then grinned. “All right, well, boys, since I’ll take your silence as confirmation that you’re on board, I bid you farewell.” He kept the gun trained to Sparrow’s temple, and although he could see she was terrified, she didn’t cry or make a sound.
“Don’t worry.” Asher said the words so low that only he could hear them, but Mason knew she had read his lips.
She looked between the two of them, and mouthed, Sorry.
God, she had nothing to be sorry about. This was a situation that happened a lot, and although he never experienced it personally, he had heard horror stories from others on the road. But one thing was for sure—he was not about to let her go.
But right now, that was exactly what he had to do, because risking her life when they were up against too many men was a stupid move. They watched in silence as the men piled into the cab and the back of the truck, and all the while, the man kept that gun pointed to her head.
“Have a lovely evening, boys. I know we will.” The truck skidded out of the parking lot, and the scent of burning rubber and exhaust surrounded them. Mason kept his eyes on that truck, watched it take a left onto a dirt road, and knew where they were going.
“I’m going after her, Mace.” He took hold of Ash’s hand and stopped him. “I’m not going to fucking leave her there for those fuckers. You may not want her company, but I sure as hell do.” He pulled his hand away and glared at him.
“We are going to get her back, okay?” Mason assured. Ash kept a hard face but nodded once. “I know this town better than any other. I’ve passed through it a lot of fucking times and know the road they took off on leads to the lake. No doubt they are camped out there.” He turned and looked at the road in question and then turned back to Ash. “But we have to be smart about this. It’s going to be dark soon, and we need to get moving.”
“Good, because I can’t fucking stand to think of her with them.” They had only been with Sparrow for a handful of days, but it was clear Ash was attached. Mason couldn’t blame him though. He might be an asshole and made her feel like she wasn’t welcome, but he could only admit to himself that he liked her around, and his shitty past and the fucked-up things he had done in his life made him this bastard trying to push her away, because he thought that was what was best.
He’d never be sweet and kind like Asher, never be gentle-talking and easygoing, making her feel all fucking girly. He was hard and mean most of the time, but that was how he had survived this long. He had no remorse for the shit he had done and the lives he’d taken. Time was not their friend any longer; that was for damn sure. He had to take what he wanted when it was presented right in front of him, because who the hell knew if there would be a tomorrow? He stared at Ash’s profile. There was clear worry etched in the other man’s face, and even though he had been a trainer for illegal fighters and had done fucked-up shit himself, he was a lot softer in the heart department than Mason was.