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“He says you put me in danger.” I sniffled.
Drake shrugged, rocking his head side to side. “I can’t blame him for being mad about that. He wanted me to protect you. You’re precious cargo.”
I shook my head. “I tried to tell him you didn’t, and then he accused me of sleeping with you, and I couldn’t deny it because I did, and now I’m in love with you, and then he got mad and started yelling, and now he won’t talk to me at all, like not even on the phone, and I don’t know what to do.” I rambled, desperate for a breath at the end.
“You’re in love with me, hmm?” He was smirking before he let out a chuckle.
I gasped, realizing what I’d said. Was I in love with Drake Moore? “Yeah. Is that okay?” chewed at my lip.
“Of course it’s okay. I’m pretty in love with you too, angel,” he said, squeezing my hand, and my stomach did somersaults.
I couldn’t believe the first time I told this man I loved him was in a jail visitation room. I wasn’t supposed to want him at all, and now I wanted only him. I laughed.
“This is unreal.” Then the tears returned. I looked around, taking in the painted white walls and bar-covered windows in the room. The guard behind us coughed, reminding me we weren’t completely alone in the room. “I don’t know what to do. You have to get out of here.”
Drake looked at the guard, lowering his voice. “I’ve got a plan,” he said. “You need to call Ronan Moretti.”
“Ronan? Why?” I scrunched my nose, confused.
He leaned forward. “He’s a powerful man, and he’s good to have on your side. Don’t ask too many questions. Just trust him.” Drake looked behind me again, then returned his gaze to mine. “He can help, and he can get you in touch with my lawyer. You should talk to him too, but you have to talk to Ronan first. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Yes, of course.”
He grinned, squeezing my hands tighter. “One more thing,” he started.
“Times up,” the guard interrupted. Stepping forward. “You need to go now, Miss.”
“Just one more minute?” I begged, realizing when the guard scowled that he wasn’t going to humor me. I sighed.
Drake gripped my hands, demanding my attention. “If Dallas comes near you again, I’ll have him killed,” he whispered before raising his voice again. “Call Ronan.”
The guard grabbed me by the elbow, nodding at Drake and looking pointedly at our hands. He let go, and my hands felt cold without his wrapped around them. “I will. I’ll do anything for you.”
Chapter thirty-eight
Amanda
“I’ve been waiting for this call,” Ronan Moretti said when he answered on the second ring. “I’m surprised it took so long.”
Call Ronan. I had needed to call him, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. “Hi.” I winced, biting down on my tongue so the pain would distract me from my nerves. “Drake said to call you. He’s in jail.”
“I know.” Ronan said, and I dropped into the oversized armchair in my living room. “Are you okay?”
For a moment I thought about putting on a brave face and acting like I was unfazed, but my heart was pounding, and I wasn’t completely sure I wouldn’t have a heart attack if it didn’t slow down. “No. He doesn’t deserve to be in there, Ronan.”
“I’m working on that.” I could hear him typing in the background. What did he mean he was working on it? “I need to know what happened that night.”
I instinctively touched my fingers to my tender cheek. The bruise had gotten darker, and it now had a pale-yellow ring around the edges. Bruises always looked worse before they got better, and it definitely looked worse. I took a deep breath, telling Ronan everything.
“When Dallas hit me, I just… Drake was the only person I thought to call,” I explained, wishing I could call him again now. My house felt emptier, even though I lived alone, and I longed for Drake’s gruff laugh and his arms around me. “I didn’t know he would get so angry. This is all my fault!”
“It’s not your fault. The dude had what was coming to him, and he’s lucky to be alive. If you were my girl, he’d be dead.” Ronan’s voice was cold, and a shiver ran down my spine.
I sniffled. “Do you think he’ll get out soon?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Honestly, I don’t know. There’s a video of the attack, and this Dallas guy has enough money and connection to keep Drake in there for a while even if they didn’t have it,” he explained. My stomach sank. A video?
“So there’s nothing we can do?” My voice was barely a whisper, and when he didn’t respond right away, I wasn’t sure if he’d even heard me.
