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“Shut up!” he raged, turning to backhand her again.
But something caught his hand. And then the entire room erupted in violence. Gunfire. Cries of pain. Savage curses. She closed her eyes, praying her death would be quick and merciful. Oh, Drake, I loved you so much. I would have never betrayed you. Why couldn’t you believe in me? You’ll never even know of your child.
Sorrow was thick and suffocating, tears burning her swollen, throbbing eye. She closed her eyes and lowered her head in defeat as the world went mad around her.
She flinched and stiffened when hands glanced over her bonds. Then a man’s voice sounded in her ear.
“Don’t fight me, Evangeline. I need you to cooperate fully and do exactly as I tell you. Got me?”
Adrenaline surged in her veins. Her eyes flew open and to her astonishment, she saw Drake’s men. Everywhere. She looked in absolute bewilderment to see them fighting savagely, murderous expressions on their faces. To her further shock, she saw . . . Drake. He was ruthlessly working his way through two gunmen who posed no obstacle to him and his fury.
What was he doing here? And why? Maybe she had finally lost the remaining vestiges of sanity she’d clung to the entire day. Or maybe she’d died and this was some sort of dying fantasy. But she felt no pain even as she made no move to struggle against Silas’s gentle touch as he cut through the ropes binding her.
“Get Evangeline out of here!” Drake barked without looking in her direction. “Make sure she’s safe and get her to help. This bastard is mine.”
His words sent a chill down Evangeline’s spine as she stared dispassionately as Drake circled the man who’d abducted her. Then she was swung into familiar arms and closed her eyes, blocking the horrific reality that Drake could die, and she drifted off, retreating to a place where she no longer felt pain, or grief. Nothing. She welcomed oblivion and surrendered to the dark void enfolding her in its soothing embrace.
• • •
Silas swiftly carried Evangeline from the room, flanked by Maddox and Justice, who stared down at her, worry in their eyes.
“Stay with Drake,” Silas commanded. “Cover him. Have his back. Make damn sure he’s safe at all times.”
“I’m staying with you,” Maddox said stubbornly. “With the help of Luconi’s men, we’ve already taken down any threat. All that’s left is McDuff, and the others are keeping close watch. But Drake made it clear that McDuff is his.”
Silas carried Evangeline to the waiting car and slid into the backseat; she now had her eyes closed, whether out of self-protection or true unconsciousness, he wasn’t sure.
He examined her carefully, looking for injury, but all he saw was the drying blood on the side of her head, the vivid handprint on her face and the blood at her nose and mouth from where the little fucker had struck her. He was gripped by rage and fury to the point that he nearly defied Drake and went after McDuff himself, and damn Drake’s orders.
It should be Silas. Not Drake. He was Drake’s cleanup man. His enforcer. His sole duty was to protect Drake and ensure that nothing threatened Drake’s business interests, a vast empire Drake shared with his brothers. He was always the one to take out any threat. It was who he was. What he did. And now, more than ever, this was personal to him when so many other times it was cold and impersonal. Just a job. Nothing more. A necessary evil to protect Drake’s empire and the men he called brothers.
But . . . Evangeline needed him more right now. And if she were his woman, he too would want to be the one to take out the man responsible for terrorizing her, threatening her and putting his hands to her.
“Get me to Drake’s clinic,” Silas instructed the driver.
• • •
Drake stared at the pathetic piece of shit he held up by the collar of his shirt. McDuff’s face was swollen and bloodied, and the knowledge of his imminent death was in his eyes. He didn’t deserve a quick, merciful death. What he deserved was to suffer, knowing his fate. But Drake didn’t have the time or the desire. His only priority was in avenging Evangeline and then getting to her as quickly as possible.
He’d been so overwhelmed by rage and his desire to make her tormentor pay with his blood that everything else had been forced from his mind, but now he felt regret because he should have been the one to take Evangeline from this place. To offer her comfort, see to her needs, instead of one of his men. Would she see that as yet another rejection? More evidence in her eyes that she didn’t matter to him?
