Page 65

REN

Siren Song, Maine

T he headlights flashed twice, and Ren staggered toward the waiting Suburban. Steady must have seen his condition because a moment later, Ren felt an arm around his waist.

“Thanks.”

Steady looked over his shoulder at the waning fire. “How the hell does an E.V. explode like that with no gas?”

“The grenade helped.”

Steady whistled. “Somebody came to play. How’d you get out in time?”

“The car got stuck against a rock for a minute. I jumped out before he threw the grenade.”

“Close call, brother.”

“We need to get to Stella.” Ren hissed an inhale, hoping his ribs were only bruised.

“I’m alerting the team. This is an all-hands situation.”

The glow from Steady’s phone screen illuminated the blood, soaking Ren’s sleeve and the side of Steady’s shirt.

“Shit, brother, where is this blood coming from?”

Ren leaned heavily on his friend. “Lots of places. You got a first aid kit in there?”

Steady helped Ren into the passenger seat. “Shoot, you know, after twenty-eight SEAL missions, dozens of Bishop Security ops, and a Boy Scout merit badge, you’d think I’d remember something like that.”

“Quit joking around, and give me the damn thing. I need to get to Stella.”

Steady stared at him long and hard.

“What?” Ren snapped.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Steady hit the ignition button.

“Then let’s move.”