Lost Inside - 35. Chapter 35

He was done talking. Benny answered Sheshtun’s hiss with one of his own. He flexed, the muscles in his arms rippling. He was younger, stronger, and far more pissed off. Sheshtun, for all his crazy ranting, didn’t stand a chance.

Nothing was going to stop Benny from protecting his mate. The need to spill Sheshtun’s blood, hot and wet, consumed him. His vision faded at the edges, tinged red, as he focused on the snarling Tiger.

Sheshtun lunged forward, and Benny met his attack. Claws raked down his side, ripping through his shirt and deep into his flesh. He grunted, shuddering as the tip of Sheshtun’s claws felt like they skidded against a rib.

Fuck. The bastard was fast.

Benny tried to block the pain, focused on driving his claws into Sheshtun’s chest and neck. They grappled, snapping and swiping at each other. Benny stumbled against the body of the guard; the nasty crunch of the male’s fingers crushing under his heel distracted him. Sheshtun took advantage of the distraction and went for a disabling blow.

Sweat and blood dripped in Benny’s eyes. He blinked, shaking his head, blood spraying from the cut on his temple from the swipe across his forehead. He barely twisted away from it, just saving his eyes. The older Carthera darted in, striking out at his face again, making Benny rear back, and then moved away before Benny could grab him.

But he was moving slower, blood staining one arm that hung crookedly at his side. Benny had swept it away from his head with one hand on Sheshtun’s wrist and then yanked down viciously, popping it out of the socket at the shoulder. Strength would win over speed—if Benny could get the wily bastard in reach.

Then he saw the gun. That’s what Sheshtun was going for. Benny had to stop him before he reached the weapon.

Benny crouched, going in low. He feinted for Sheshtun’s legs—a move to hamstring and hobble the circling Tiger—and then leapt up, springing over Sheshtun in an acrobatic flip he’d learned from one of the Falcons. As he went up and over, he reached out, burying the claws of both hands in Sheshtun’s chest and armpit on his uninjured side. He didn’t get them in as deep as he wanted, but now both of Sheshtun’s arms were compromised.

Now to take the bastard down. Benny bared his fangs and hissed, long and low. In a move Dav would be proud of, Benny took advantage of the stunned Tiger’s agony and took him down from behind, wrapping his legs around Sheshtun’s neck as he rolled them over on the hardwood floor slippery with blood and sweat.

With one violent squeeze, he wrenched Sheshtun’s head sideways. The sick crack silenced the Tiger’s gurgles as he flopped. His body went limp, the reek of urine and shit filling the air. Benny gagged and coughed, the iron taste of blood in his mouth and the reek making him sick. He shoved Sheshtun’s body away from him and rolled over, his muscles trembling as he retched and spit.

Yanking the tattered remains of his shirt over his head, Benny groaned and winced as the wound across his ribs opened again and began dripping blood down his side, soaking into his pants. He tore the shirt in half. He pressed against the wounds in his side and across his head, slowing the blood, trying to take only shallow breaths as he slowly recovered enough energy to get to his feet.

Dav crouched in the doorway, holding his hands up when Benny whipped his head sideways when he caught a glimpse of the movement out of the corner of his eye. “Easy. It’s just me. We had two guards drive up in a car while you were fighting. Sheshtun must’ve been about to change hiding places.”

“Fucker won’t be do anything anymore.” Benny spit at the body. “I killed his ass.”

“I never doubted it. I’ve got some plastic to wrap the body in. You ready to finish this?” Dav slowly stood up when Benny got to his feet, hiding the grimace he wanted to make when his rib wound opened at one edge.

“Yeah. I’m so out of here.” Yuri was waiting for him, and Benny wanted the threat to his mate settled.

Then he was taking a god damned vacation.

“Bending over with my wounds is a real fucking treat,” Benny grumbled as he got into the passenger seat.

“Poor baby.” Dav mocked him. Benny flipped him off. “Suck it up, Alpha. Can’t be seen as weak.” He was right. Benny couldn’t be seen as anything less than in charge. Ever.

Thank God he had Yuri. Yuri didn’t care how Benny acted when they were alone. Thoughts of his mate firmed up Benny’s resolve. He would make sure they were safe, and he’d drag the entire Tiger clan into the modern age—kicking and screaming, if necessary—to do it. “Where’s the med kit?”

“Back seat. Ellis threw in some wipes and new clothes. I’d leave the pants, to explain away the blood, but I’d cover up that wound on your ribs. Let them think the scrapes on your face are the source of the scent.” Dav took a corner too fast, and Benny hissed. “Sorry.”

Benny pulled down the mirror and examined the cuts on his face. They went from the scruff where he needed to shave his head across his forehead and curved down around his eye and across his temple. The two raw furrows were going to leave a wicked scar.

Good. He’d wear them proudly. Benny took his time patching himself up before he slid on a black T-shirt.

Time for a showdown.