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“Redwood,” Jacopo says, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. “Sandro’s orders.”
I narrow my eyes, my protective instincts flaring up. “If you or Sandro plan on putting Julian in those cells, you’ll have to come through me first.”
Jacopo chuckles. “Still got some fight in you, Big Guy,” he observes. “Good to see.” He puts his foot down, urging the car on, and I’m relieved he turned up in this powerful thing instead of the crappy old Pinto. Every second is going to count.
I wrap an arm around Julian, holding him close, pressing my nose into his hair. His breathing is shallow, each exhale a rasp that sets my teeth on edge. I know exactly what kind and how much torture he must have endured, which only makes it worse. And worst of all, knowing exactlywhosecruel hands left their marks on him.
Maybe Julian was right back there. Maybe I should have let him kill AJ. But I was selfish.
I wanted to keep that for myself.
Julian’s beautiful face is a bruised, bloody mask, and I worry about the damage beneath the surface—the injuries I can’t see. I raise my voice again. “Jacopo. How long until we get there?”
“Fifteen minutes,” he replies, his focus fixed on the road. “And call me Jack.”
“Drive faster, Jack.” My grip on Julian tightens, as if I could somehow force him back to consciousness.
“Leo,” Jacopo says over his shoulder, serious for once, “I promise you, we’ll get there in time. And we’ll make sure Julian gets the help he needs.”
I nod, but the fear is real. As we speed through the streets, I lean my head against Julian’s, listening to the sound of our mingled breaths.
“Stay with me,” I murmur.
* * *
The guards don’t even stop us at the gates of Redwood, waving Jack straight on through, though as we pull up at the house, it doesn’t seem like Sandro has arrived yet. Jack comes around to help me lift Julian out, and when Pedretti jogs down the front steps, he gives us both a nod. “Doc’s ready for them,” he tells Jack.
Thank God.
“Julian first,” I insist.
“Yeah,” Jack agrees, concern etched on his face as he takes in Julian’s face. “Let’s get him inside.”
I carry Julian in my arms, his limp body a precious burden. I shrug off any help Jack and Pedretti try to give, and head up the stairs. As I lay Julian gently on the bed in his room, I catch a glimpse of our bloodied reflections in the mirror.
We’re a mess, but at least we’re together.
“Leo,” Jack says, placing a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry this happened. But Julian is strong.”
“Out of the way.” The doctor brushes past Jack, and then stares at me. “You, too. I need space.”
“I ain’t leaving.”
Three other medics come in behind him, and start setting up. One of the women starts putting together an IV, and the other sets out towels and bandages. The third, a man, wheels a cart with various medical supplies.
“Suit yourself,” the doctor says coldly. “But don’t interfere.”
I move to the side of the bed, watching with a tight chest as the medics work on Julian. They clean away the blood in patches, revealing the extent of his injuries. My stomach turns as I see the dark bruising in Julian’s midsection.
“Is that internal bleeding?” I demand.
The doctor feels around Julian’s belly and shakes his head.
“What about—“
“You,” the doctor says firmly, “need to let me do my job.”
Jack takes my arm. “You’re pretty beat up yourself,” he says gently. “Let them work, and go take a shower, huh? Clean off some of that blood. Roxy’s been asking what’s going on, but you can’t see her covered in the red stuff like you are.”
