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“He’s right,” Kane said.

“No.” Drina shook her head rapidly. “I know what you’re implying. It’s not true. My father is a lot of things but Dad wouldn’t stoop this low. Not with Nory. You don’t know him. He adores her.”

Gemma rose from her seated position, held on to the table and still stumbled over her own feet. “Of course he does. He wouldn’t dare do anything to harm Nory. He’s seen her what? Maybe six or seven times in the last ten years?” Gemma snorted. “He’d use Nory. He’d use me or you. Hell, he’d do whatever it took to save his own pathetic ass!”

“If Alberto is involved, you can’t do it. It’s too dangerous.” Kane massaged his lower jaw.

“They have to try,” Drina said.

“Are you willing to sacrifice what you have with Zak for your father?” Kane asked her pointedly.

Dallas sniffed and looked the other way. Did it bother him that Kane didn’t realize she had something in the works with Dallas, too? And if so, why? They’d spent one afternoon together. That was all.

Only that wasn’t all.

Kane addressed Zak. “Is there any chance Alberto was aware of your former business dealings?” His gaze bounced between the Blazier brothers.

“It’s a small town. Everyone knew back in the day.” Zak seemingly tiptoed around the subject before he said, “Just like everyone knew Alberto’s hands were filthy. Our family had a certain reputation. The Baldinis had a certain reputation.”

“Well maybe it’s time that you lived up to the new one you’re trying to establish,” Peyton suggested, offering a smile. “And Drina, you and Gemma need to let the men handle this. Drina, if that collar on your neck was placed there by a man who really loves you, I have a feeling he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“I’d die for her,” Zak whispered, cupping her cheek and pressing his forehead against hers. “But it won’t come down to that. We’ll get Nory back, baby. I promise. And if your father is behind this, it all ends tonight.”

Chapter Nine

“This is some place,” Gemma said, walking around the Blaziers’ private VIP suite. The Blazier brothers paid a hefty price for their own pad at Paddles and Picnics. Drina had been there once before. The first night she met Zak, they’d spent the night there, hiding out as gunmen had brought down hell on the club above them.

Drina sank to the sofa and stared at Kane and Peyton, watching as Kane said his good-byes to Peyton, promised her everything would be okay, and then gave her a tender, sweet kiss. Before Drina could envy their relationship too much, Dallas took her by the hand and led her to the master bedroom.

Zak was already there, taking an inventory of the guns they had on hand at the club. “Hey, babe.”

“You don’t have a plan.”

“We’ve spoken to Brandon,” Dallas told her. “He’s on his way with Kurt, Liam, and Dante.”

“What if Dad is behind this? What if he cut a deal with the Feds and they’re waiting for you?”

“Your dad didn’t cut a deal with the Feds, Drina.” Zak kept locking and loading the weapons. Dallas watched her watching Zak.

“You don’t know.”

“I know, damn it!” He grabbed hold of her and swung her around to the wall before she knew what hit her. “Listen to me. Trust me.”

She gasped at the impact and her eyes watered. He was distant and she understood now why he had responded to her with roughness rather than gentleness. He blamed her. He saw her as others in the community often saw all the Baldini sisters. She was a criminal’s daughter, a criminal who would do whatever it took to save himself while hanging everyone else out to dry.

“But I can’t trust you anymore,” she said, lifting her arms and trying to unhook the collar at her neck. “And if I can’t trust you and you can’t trust me, what else do we have?”

Before she slipped off the collar, Zak grabbed her wrists and held her hands against the wall. He stared down at her as if he didn’t quite know what to do with her and then to her surprise, his lips crashed against hers.

Their tongues were in an immediate duel. The feverish hunger between them had finally raged out o

f control and her passion fed his as much as his fueled hers.

In a matter of minutes, they were tearing at one another’s clothes, removing shirts and jeans, kicking off shoes and stepping out of undergarments, and while it wasn’t romantic or even loving, the fucking to come was as necessary as their next drink of water or quick breath of fresh air.

Behind them, she was aware of Dallas locking the door and moving the guns and ammunition off the bed. She should’ve told him a bed wasn’t necessary. A mattress wasn’t needed.

Zak had waited for her. He’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him and as much as he claimed to be a masochist, as much as he had perhaps wanted to watch Dallas take her first, his plans were now shot all to hell. The need, the longing, the outright desperation proved far more imperative than the best-laid plans.

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