Fuzz, the dog whose dislike list was growing, added another person, clamping his teeth down on the back of Grant’s leg, his growls the most vicious Tristan had ever heard from him.
“Get him off me!” Grant screamed a second before his gun went off. Unfortunately for him, Tristan had won the strength contest and the gun was pointed back at Grant.
Minor problem, though. His other arm was pushed against Grant’s chest, and the bullet traveled through his forearm before tearing its way through Grant’s heart. Damn, that hurt. Still tangled up with Grant, Tristan met Skye’s gaze. He didn’t know what he hoped to see in her eyes, but it wasn’t there.
Her face paled of all color, and she shook her head as she stepped back. “You’re bleeding.”
“A little.” He pushed up from Grant...and looked down at the man. A dead Grant. Even though the drug dealer had probably caused many overdose deaths, Tristan would have preferred to see the man face justice and life in prison.
A flurry of activity ensued. A third man, also masked and dressed in all black, and with a long gun slung over his shoulder, rushed in, pulled Drake to his feet, and took him out of the cabin.
Fuzz, who’d lost interest in Grant—apparently his dog wasn’t impressed with dead people—decided Kade’s teammate needed his help. He nipped at Drake’s heels, making the man double step to keep his ankles away from the vicious dog.
When had his dog become vicious?
Kade’s other teammate went to Pretty Boy, kneeled, and put his fingers on the man’s neck. “He’s alive.”
Over it all, he heard Skye screaming for Parker.
“Parker and his EMTs are pulling up now.” Kade grabbed him in a tight hug. “I leave, thinking you’re the police chief of a town where the most excitement a police chief gets is finding new places to hide from Miss Mabel.” Fear flashed in his eyes before he hid it. “Do me a solid and not scare me like this again, yeah?”
“Can’t promise, but I’ll try. Why are you here? How did you know to be here?”
“Parker and Skylar.”
“Where is she?” In all the commotion, he’d lost track of her.
Kade grabbed Tristan’s arm. “Is that your blood or Grant’s?”
“Mine. Where’s Skye?”
Before Kade could answer, Parker and two of his EMTs came in. Tristan wasn’t surprised Parker was nearby. Baby brother would have insisted on it, knowing Tristan was in trouble. One of the EMTs went to Pretty Boy and one to Grant.
Parker came straight to him, and he got another tight hug. “This is too much excitement for me,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”
“Uh, okay?” Where the hell was Skye?
“This one’s dead,” said the EMT kneeling at Grant’s side. He then joined his partner working on Pretty Boy.
“He’s been shot,” Kade told Parker.
Tristan held up his arm for Parker to see before he freaked. “Just a minor wound. In and out. No bone or muscle damage or it would hurt more than it does.” It hurt like the devil.
“You don’t know that without an X-ray.” Parker took his arm and poked at it.
“Ow. You have a lousy bedside manner, little brother.”
Parker snorted. “Joe, come over here and wrap the chief’s arm. I’ll help Ty load your patient up.” He poked Tristan in the chest. “Then you will go to the hospital and get it X-rayed.”
For the next few minutes, Tristan impatiently waited for Joe to clean and wrap his arm. When Joe was finally done with him, he turned on Kade, suspicious that his brother was avoiding answering his question.
“Where. Is. Skye?”
Kade sighed. “She and Cupcake are taking Drake to the jail.”
She was gone? Without a word to him? The part of his heart that thought she would run into his arms now that this was all over decided it couldn’t take any more disappointment. It hurt too much.
“Who the hell’s Cupcake?”