Drake let out a frustrated grunt. “Fuck, you’re going to get me killed, man.”
I shifted a passed-out Bianca in my arms. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you. You’re going to be pissed.”
“My girl is at death’s door. Get to the fucking point,” I snapped.
He visibly swallowed. “I’m in deep with the horsemen. Before I was, I was in deep with someone else. Not the lords. An enemy of the lords. I’ve been trying to take down the entire line of Ivanov for a long ass time. This is one of my associates. He’s been in the business long enough to know how to save someone. . . or kill them.”
I ground my teeth as I glared at him. “Fucking Christ, you fucking turncoat prick—”
“Me?” He snapped back. “You’re the one sneaking around putting your dick into De Santis’s wife and joining the kings, andI’mthe fucking turncoat?”
“You’re a sneak,” I shot back. “Fucking asshole.”
“You want my help or not? Past just ringing De Santis, I’ve got nothing. You’re lucky he even agreed.”
I sighed. “If I fucking bring her in there and he turns on me, I’ll fucking kill you both? Got it?”
“No worries. He’s on our side.”
“You don’t even know what fucking side you’re on,” I grumbled, shifting Bianca in my arms.
Drake reached for her. I hesitated for a moment before giving her to him. Anger and white-hot jealousy flared inside me as she curled into him as I got out of the backseat.
Drake stared down at her, his brows crinkled as I shut the door and reached out for her. She was so tiny that she was like carrying a feather.
He immediately placed her back into my arms, his Adam’s apple bobbing before turning and nodding for me to follow him.
I did, keeping my senses peeled for signs of bullshit.
Drake pushed the front door open, and we stepped inside a beautiful log home. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as Dom’s, but it was definitely owned by someone with money.
“In here,” a deep voice boomed out.
I swallowed and followed Drake to a room off the back of the living room. Drake pushed the door open, and we stepped inside a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom.
“Put her in the bed,” the man called out, his dark hair a mess, his back to me. He didn’t have a Russian accent like I expected, so I breathed out and laid her in the bed. A soft cry escaped her as I untangled her from me.
“She needs pants,” my voice was firm as I adjusted her t-shirt over her bare lower half.
“Drawer,” the deep voice answered.
Drake moved quickly and pulled open the top drawer in a dresser before snatching out a pair of sweatpants. I grabbed them from him when he handed them to me and shot him a look that said to turn the fuck around. He did without protest as I gently pulled them up Bianca’s legs and waist. She only whimpered slightly as I did my best to not jostle her body.
The man turned back to us, and I widened my eyes as I took him in. He wasn’t much older than we were. Maybe mid-twenties. He rivaled me in size and carried himself like he had no problem with confrontation.
And he looked familiar.
He pushed past me and grasped Bianca’s hand in his gloved one. I watched as he used an alcohol wipe to rub the top of her hand before he inserted a catheter into her vein. He said nothing as he set up the IV.
When he went to give her a shot, I reached out and grabbed his arm.
His vivid green eyes bored into mine before he spoke. “It’s for the pain.”
I glanced at her, taking in crinkled brows and parted lips. The bruises and cuts on her swollen face. The ugly metal collar digging into her neck. I released his arm and nodded. He wasted no time in administering the drug. Within moments, her whimpering quieted as the drugs coursed through her body. He reached behind her and grabbed a tube for oxygen and placed it beneath her nose and turned on a tank beside the bed.
Appearing satisfied, he moved forward and made to pull up her t-shirt.