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“Is she dead?”
Sonny’s fingers brushed my cheek in a soft, soothing motion. “No, Drake, she’s breathing.”
Drake Battle released a sigh of relief. “How the fuck did they let this happen? She was in the same fucking bed as them.”
“I don’t know.” Sonny walked with me in his arms, moving upstairs to the second floor. “You’re the tech genius. You tell me. What did Luca say?”
“Nothing,” Drake fired back. “He hit the emergency button on his watch. It only sends out his GPS location. There’s no audio. He’s lucky we found them on their way out of the house.”
Sonny tightened his grip on me. “Our queen would have been long gone if we hadn’t come to The Mansion last night.”
“Those were Volkov’s men,” Drake bit out, irritation in his deep voice. “Risky move coming to a club owned by the Salvatores to steal their girl.”
“They’re dead now.” Sonny shifted me in his arms as we reached the top floor. “Luca was right to bring her here. But if they can find us at The Mansion, it won’t be long before they attack us at home.”
“She almost got raped in Beacon Bay. If they had succeeded this time…” Drake expelled a breath of air. “I don’t even want to think about what they would have done to her.”
Sonny grunted in agreement.
My skull pounded like a rock band was playing a concert in my head. It hurt like hell to open my eyes.
As we walked down the hallway, I forced one eye open. The hallway was dimly lit with wall sconces, decorated like a hotel instead of a high-end brothel. Sonny stopped in front of the double doors that led to the penthouse apartment. Drake leaned forward to open the door for him. White smoke billowed out from the room, and they both covered their mouths and coughed.
“Fuck,” Sonny groaned, choking on the awful smell. “What the fuck did they drug them with?”
Drake pressed a hand to his chest and coughed. “That taste. The smell… I think it’s tear gas.”
“Yeah,” Sonny confirmed. “But that’s not what knocked them out. Look at her. She’s unconscious. The tear gas was a precaution in case the drugs didn’t take effect fast enough.”
“Tear gas wouldn’t have knocked Luca out.”
“Or any of them,” Sonny added. “It would have hurt like fucking hell to breathe, made them disoriented, but not enough to disarm them.”
“Cover your mouth and nose with your shirt,” Drake told him as he raised his arm to follow his own advice.
“I’m going in there.” Sonny lowered me into Drake’s arms. “Take Alex. Find some clothes for her to wear.”
Drake pressed my cheek against his bare chest. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with in that room. Be careful. Don’t go getting any stupid ideas, Son.”
“Marcello is in there,” Sonny shot back, his tone dripping with anger. “I’m not letting my best friend die.”
Sonny and Marcello were the same age and grew up together. They’d played on the same football team, went to the same schools, and from what I’d observed when I lived in Devil’s Creek, inseparable. It was as if Sonny was his brother, his blood.
“Go ahead.” Drake reached into his pocket for his cell phone. A second later, the line rang and a male voice answered. “Cole, it’s me. Send a backup team to The Mansion. We’re under attack.”
“On it,” Cole Marshall said.
The line went dead.
Sonny entered the apartment, letting the door slam behind him. I jumped at the sound and rolled over in Drake’s arms. He noticed my sudden movement, glancing down at me with surprise illuminating his handsome face. He had short, dark hair and the prettiest hazel eyes.
“Drake,” I choked out, my voice hoarse.
He tilted me to the side so I could look up at him with one eye open. The pad of his thumb swept across my cheek as he smiled. “Alex.”
“Just tell me they’re okay,” I whispered.
A worried look pulled at his handsome features, quickly replaced by a cocky smirk. “Don’t worry, my queen. You can’t kill the Salvatores.”
