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Ronan laughed, taking me by surprise. His laugh was dark, and it came from deep in his chest. “I didn’t say that. Dallas has money and connections, but so do I,” he explained, his voice growing serious, “and the connections I have aren’t too worried about being called the good guys.”
I gasped, realizing I didn’t know as much about the Moretti brothers as I thought. What kind of connections could these businessmen with a pizza chain have? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I didn’t care who they were or what they had to do. All I cared about was Drake.
“What do I do?” I asked, desperate to do anything I could to help.
Ronan tapped away at the keyboard in the background again. “The best thing you can do is trust he’ll be home soon. And you need to see Elliott. I’ll text you the address.”
Before he had finished saying it, a text alert beeped in my ear. “I’ll go today,” I said, already getting up from the chair to change.
“Have faith, and if you hear from this Dallas guy, call me.” Ronan’s glare could be heard in his voice. “Trust me, little lady. We’re going to get your man out of there.”
***
“I have been expecting you.” Elliott Black stood up from his chair, fixing his suit jacket and brushing his hands over the sleeves. His dark hair and equally dark eyes were intimidating, and I swallowed my nerves.
The office building that housed his law firm was upscale, and the floor to ceiling windows presented a view of downtown. My heartbeat competed with the clicks from my shoes against the polished tile when I entered.
“Hi,” I said, reaching my hand out. “My name is—”
“Amanda Hutchins. I know. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite of his desk, and I slowly sat on the edge, keeping my back straight. Drake needed me, and I needed to be brave. “I’m Elliott Black. I presume Drake sent you.”
I nodded. “And Ronan.”
“Ah, I see,” Elliott said with an overexaggerated nod. “Let’s cut to the chase. How much are you familiar with about Drake’s current situation?”
I gulped. “I know there’s a video.”
“Is that all?” The man was stern, leaving no room for pleasantries in the discussion, and I clasped my hands in front of me.
I nodded. “And that Dallas is rich.” I rolled my eyes but cringed when I remembered his threats that I’d regret moving on from him so quickly. “I know it’s not good.”
“You’re right. It’s not good.” Elliott cocked his head, and my stomach sank. “It’s going to be tough, but we’ll get him out.”
My eyes widened. He sounded confident. Was he? “What do we need to do?”
“You need to file a police report for that,” he said, pointing to the bruise on my face that was now too dark for my makeup to cover it completely. “And you’re going to have to be convincing. They’re going to want to know why you didn’t report it that night.”
“Because Drake came and—”
He put his hand up to stop me. “I understand what happened, but your boyfriend showing up and beating him up doesn’t work as an explanation. Not when that boyfriend is in jail for doing exactly that.”
I winced. It’s all my fault. “What do I say?”
“You tell the truth. You just leave Drake out of it.” Elliott leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and touching the tips of his fingers together. “Look, here’s the thing. Your ex—”
“He’s not my ex,” I interrupted. “He was never my boyfriend.”
Elliott rolled his eyes before looking back at me. “You were seeing the guy?”
“Well, yes.”
He nodded. “Then he’s your ex, and he’s got connections. He’s rich, he knows people, and he has a video of Drake beating the living shit out of him with the injuries on his face to match. He has a motive and the ability to carry it out.” I gasped, taken aback by the way he had said it. “There’s your reason.”
“Then what?” My telling the police Dallas assaulted me wasn’t going to make them release Drake. He slapped me, but Drake could’ve killed him. And apparently, he would have.
He shrugged. “You leave the rest up to me.”
“You’re sure you can get him out?” The lump in my throat told me it wouldn’t be long before the tears stinging my eyes started to fall. “Please.”
