“One down for the count,” Reaper muttered to himself.
The man fell to the floor, curling in a fetal position to protect his damaged balls.
“Want to try that with me?” Mike said menacingly, lifting the club again.
Reaper dodged away only to find himself facing another teen, who was holding a bat.
“Homerun,” the teen cried out gleefully when the bat cracked hard against Reaper’s thigh.
“Out!” Reaper ignored the pain as he managed to stab the knife into the teen’s side and twist the blade before pulling it out.
The teen looked at him in shock, dropping the bat to cover his bloody wound with one hand. Then he turned and ran. That left only the leader for Reaper to deal with.
Wrath was having problems of his own. His left arm hung useless by his side, his knife lay on the ground, and his two attackers were closing in for the kill.
“Need some help?” Zip sped across the room, closely followed by Colly and Raven.
They all carried short lengths of pipe. Zip used his to whack Johnny hard across his head. He fell back, right into Wrath. Wrath took advantage of that to bring his knee up between Johnny’s legs and the attacker went down.
Colly snagged Wrath’s knife from the rubbish on the floor. “Want a piece of me?” he said in a passable imitation of Al Pacino, lunging at the second of Wrath’s attackers. The teen, already bleeding from the wound in his leg Wrath had inflicted, turned tail, heading for the door to make his escape.
Mike had managed to hit Reaper again with the golf club by that time—a glancing blow to Reaper’s hip that had Reaper falling to his knees.
Reaper held his knife, looking for an opening, when suddenly Raven jumped on the assailant’s back. “Get him, Reaper,” she shouted, obviously holding on for dear life as Mike tried to shake her off.
Afraid he might stab her instead, Reaper dropped the knife and hurtled forward from his kneeling position. His head caught Mike in his chest, sending him and Raven to the floor in a pile of arms and legs, with Reaper on top of them.
“Goddamn it, get off of me!” Raven shouted, trying to wriggle out from under the pile.
Reaper helped her by grabbing Mike’s upper arms and rolling sideways. She slithered free, crawled to get the knife, and stabbed it into Mike’s bicep.
“Whoops,” she muttered when it also cut Reaper’s hand.
“I’ll live,” Reaper told her. He spotted the golf club and snagged it while Mike tried to stem the flow of blood from his wound. Holding the club in both hands, Reaper managed to straddle him and press the shaft of the club against his throat. “You even think of moving,” Reaper growled, “and I’ll break your neck.”
“Do it,” Zip called out. “We’ll help, once we get this bastard tied up.” He held up a short length of rope, pointing to the man he’d cold-cocked. Colly rolled the guy onto his stomach so Zip could tie his arms behind his back.
“Naw. I can think of something better to do with him,” Raven said gleefully. “Move up a bit, Reaper.”
When he did, so that he was sitting on Mike’s chest, she undid the assailant’s belt then pulled his jeans down around his ankles. Zip was beside her seconds later. Between them, they got Mike’s shoes and jeans off him.
Reaper debated momentarily then moved the club and landed a hard blow to Mike’s jaw. “That should hold him,” he said, as he tried to stand. Pain shot through his leg, crumpling him to the floor.
“How bad?” Wrath asked, hobbling over to Reaper. He was holding his injured arm curled tightly against his chest as he knelt beside Reaper.
“I could ask the same,” Reaper replied.
“Not broken, I don’t think. Probably fractured.”
“We have to get them to the ER,” Raven said.
“Not happening,” Wrath told her.
“But,” she protested.
“We’ll go to the free clinic, where they won’t question us,” Reaper said, trying again to get to his feet. Colly wrapped his arm around Reaper, steadying him. “First, though, we have to deal with the trash.” Reaper pointed to their foes.
“I didn’t see a Dumpster when we came in.” Wrath managed a smile, despite his obvious pain. “So I’ll call this in.”
“Nope,” Reaper replied with a hard shake of his head.
“Not as me, you dope. I’m not quite that out of it. But let’s get out of here first, just in case my boys in blue show up in record time.”
With the teens’ help, they made it from the building down to the sidewalk at the end of the alley. Then Wrath called in a 10-78—need assistance—and gave the address. He ended the call quickly, handing it to Zip. “Break it and toss it. It’s my throwaway. Dispatch will think the call was from one of our undercover guys.”
Zip seemed to get a kick out of smashing it under his shoe before picking up the pieces then dropping them through a storm grate.
“How did you guys happen to show up there?” Reaper asked as they walked slowly to where he’d parked the car.
“Maxie said you were looking for us and that he’d sent you to the warehouse, since we said that’s where we were going. We would have been there before you, but we ran into a couple of dudes we knew and…” He shrugged.
Colly grinned. “At least we got there before the end and got our licks in. Hell, if we hadn’t—”
“We might have been dead meat, literally,” Reaper said with a sour smile. “Guess I’m getting too old for this.”
“Not even,” Raven retorted. “You’re Reaper. You’ll be doing this forever.”
Reaper snorted. “I’m not some superhero, girl. Neither of us is.”
“But you
can’t
quit. Who’ll take over for you?” Zip said.
Reaper didn’t reply for a moment. He bit back pain when he stepped wrong as he turned the corner into the almost deserted lot where he’d left his old beater. His leg started to buckle, and Colly caught him, helping him the rest of the way to the car. With the teens’ assistance, Reaper and Wrath got into the front seat. Then, at Reaper’s insistence, Raven and the guys got in back.
“You sure you can drive?” Zip asked. “I’m too young to die in a car accident.”
“I’ll manage.” Reaper started the car then slowly pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Every movement of his leg caused pain, even more so now that the adrenalin was wearing off, but he was damned if he was going to let anyone know it.
“Why do you want us with you?” Raven said, leaning over the back of the seat. “And you better hurry. I think Wrath’s worse off than he looks.”
Reaper took a worried glance, noting how pale Wrath was, and stepped on the accelerator. “I wanted you here,” Reaper said in reply to Raven’s question, “because of what Zip said.”
“That I don’t want to be in a crash? I think that was a given.”
“No.” Reaper managed a grin. “About who’ll take over when Wrath and I retire.” He took a right, heading to the free clinic. “You three did a damn good job tonight.”
“Yeah. So? We’re used to defending ourselves against crapazoids like those guys. Well, maybe not Raven so much.” He pulled back when she took a disgusted swipe at him.
She grumbled, “I held my own. Mostly.”
“Yes, you did,” Reaper agreed. “So what I was thinking—and this is off the cuff—with some training, you three could do what we’re doing.”
“You’re shitting us,” Colly said.
“Nope. You know what to look out for, and you wouldn’t stand out until it was too late for the punks trying to cause trouble to know you’re around.”
“Yeah, but…” Raven looked skeptical.
“It’s just an idea. Think about it.” By then they were in front of the clinic. Reaper could see lights on, even at this late hour. After parking, everyone got out. Colly helped Reaper up the steps while Zip and Raven walked beside Wrath. After ringing the doorbell, they waited for someone to answer. The door opened a minute later, revealing a dark-skinned man dressed in whites. He took one look at Reaper and Wrath and called for assistance. A nurse appeared and between them and the teens, they got Reaper and Wrath into exam rooms.
* * * *
“Did the kids leave?” Zack asked when Dallas came into exam room.
“Yeah. I told them there was no sense in their hanging around. Oh, by the way, we’re both undercover cops, as far as the docs here know. They think the guys brought us here because they thought we were homeless.” Then he whistled softly. “That doesn’t look good.”
“At least I’m not in a cast,” Zack retorted, seeing one on Dallas’ arm, since the doctor had cut the sleeves off his sweatshirt to get to it. “I thought you said it wasn’t broken.”
“It’s not. But I still need the cast for a few weeks according to the doctor, until the fracture heals.” Looking at the huge bruise on Zack’s thigh, he asked, “Are you able to walk?”
“Not without crutches for a day or two,” the doctor said, coming into the room. “This,” he told Zack, “is a compression bandage. You’ll be using this except when you’re icing the bruise.” As he talked, he began wrapping the bandage around Zack’s thigh, starting at his knee and working up. “Keep it snug, but not too tight. It keeps the swelling out of the muscle tissue.”
“For how long?”
“The bandage and icing? Until the pain diminishes and the muscle begins to heal. That usually takes about forty-eight hours. Then you can start exercising the muscles, but carefully. No pushing through the pain. Luckily for you, your coat and sweatshirts kept your shoulder from sustaining more than minor bruising.” When he finished with the bandage, he stepped back, looking Zack. “Do you mind my asking what happened?”
Going with what Dallas had told the doctors, Zack replied, “We were looking for a pair of men who prey on the homeless. Unfortunately for us, it seems they recruited a few others to join their fun and games.”
The doctor looked at him dubiously. “You weren’t armed?”
“We were,” Dallas said, “but we didn’t get a chance to draw on them when they jumped us, since our guns were in our boots. And before you ask, we left them locked in the car rather than bringing them in here with us.”
“How did those kids get involved?”
“Wrong place, wrong time, but if they hadn’t walked in on the fight, we might not have made it out alive,” Zack told him.
“Sort of makes what you went through worth it, doesn’t it? Knowing there are street kids out there willing to step in when necessary. I hope you managed to arrest the punks.”
“It’s been taken care of,” Dallas said.
“Can we leave now?” Zack asked.
“As soon as I write you prescriptions for pain killers and antibiotics and get you some crutches.”
“I know this is a free clinic,” Zack said, “but given the circumstances, we’ll pay if you give us a bill.”
“Thank you. Believe me, that will be greatly appreciated.”
Twenty minutes later, Dallas and Zack were back at the car after Zack had gotten a short lesson on using crutches then paid the bill.
“Can you drive with one arm?” Zack asked, handing Dallas the keys.
“I’ll manage. You get in back so you can keep your leg up, the way the doc ordered.”
“That was the plan,” Zack said dryly.
It took some maneuvering, but Zack managed to get into the back seat, thankful that the shot the doctor had given him for the pain had kicked in. He realized he must have dozed off when he felt Dallas gently shake his shoulder some time later.
“We’re home.”
Once Zack was out of the car, he said, as he made his way to the back door of the house, “I’m glad we’re here before Mrs. Cook.”
Dallas laughed. “Because she’ll start mothering you?”
“And you, so don’t be so cocky. But more because of the way we’re dressed. This is
not
how she’s used to seeing us.”
“True that,” Dallas agreed.
They were still in the clothes they’d been wearing before the fight. Clothes that were now even more ripped and torn—and bloody.
By the time they reached the bedroom, Zack had gained a greater appreciation for how well Brian managed on crutches, and said as much to Dallas.
“Well, he has been on them forever,” Dallas pointed out, while struggling to get undressed with one hand.
It took Zack’s able, if careful assistance, to remove the sweatshirt and T-shirt he was wearing. After that, things were easier and soon they were in bed.
“Don’t you have to call in to tell them you’re not coming to work?” Zack asked drowsily.
“It’s Thursday. I’m off, thank goodness. But you’d better let Alice know you’re not going to be there.”
“Damn.” Zack took the phone from the charger and called his office, leaving her a long message, asking her to reschedule his appointments because he’d been in a minor car accident.
“That works,” Dallas said when Zack hung up. “I’ll use that excuse too when I go in tomorrow. At least I have a few days leave coming so I can take them and not end up on desk duty.” He shuddered, earning him a sleepy chuckle from Zack.
Very carefully, they curled up together, kissed and soon fell asleep. But not before saying, in unison, “I love you.”
Chapter Twenty
“What the hell happened to you?” Brian asked, when he opened the door to let Zack and Dallas in to his house Saturday evening. “Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“Let’s just say we ran into a bit of trouble the night before last.”
“From the looks of it, it was more than a bit,” Brian commented as he wheeled into the living room. “Have a seat before you fall on your face.”
Zack snorted. “I’m getting the hang of these, finally,” he told Brian, setting the crutches beside the sofa and sitting.
Dallas settled at the other end, where he could rest his cast on the arm of the sofa.
“So what’s this big news?” Zack asked, although he was certain he knew the answer.
“We’re ready to start painting then get everything moved from the old building to the new one. I was going to have you round up a few of the kids you know to help, but under the circumstances…”
“That’s great. When do you need them?” Zack took out the phone he used for Zip and the others.
“Tomorrow?”
“You got it.” He punched in Zip’s number, and when the teen answered, Zack told him what was needed. He smiled at something Zip said and told him he’d ask. Covering the phone, he said to Brian, “You’ll probably have more kids than you need. Especially if they can do it at night, so they’ll be warm for eight hours. The way the weather is right now, that’s a definite enticement, if you’re willing.”