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“I’m the best at what I do for a reason. Trust I’ll do what it takes to get him home.” He smirked, and his dark stare made my skin crawl. Did he have connections too?
“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as scared as I felt.
Elliott stared at me for a moment as if trying to decide how much he should tell me. “It involves a little legal gray area,” he finally said. “It’s best if you don’t know more than that for now.”
I nodded, sighing. “I understand. I just want him to come home.”
The tears I had held back until then started to roll down my cheeks, and when I wiped them away, the bruise stung under my fingers. I pressed harder as a reminder. He watched me with a curious expression, like he was unsure if he should comfort me but already knew he wasn’t going to.
“Be patient,” he said, patting his desk gently. “It may not be quick, but it always gets done.”
I’ll do what it takes.
Chapter thirty-nine
Drake
“Moore, let’s go,” the guard yelled, pulling me from my half-asleep daze.
I stood up off the uncomfortable aluminum platform bed, unsure where we were going. When he hooked his hand around my elbow and tugged, I followed him—first down the hallway towards the cafeteria and then towards the visitation rooms. Was someone here?
The guard opened the door to one of the rooms, pushing me inside. “Wait here,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
The room wasn’t empty. There were two other inmates huddled together on the other side of the interview room. I narrowed my eyes, an uneasy feeling causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
“Who are you?” I asked, nodding at them.
The guys stepped forward, the larger man patting his buddy on the back and ignoring my question. “This is the guy? He doesn’t look that special,” he said with a chortle.
“Apparently she’s sweet on him.” The smaller guy had a high-pitched, patronizing tone to his voice.
My blood ran cold. She? I ground my teeth together.
“He doesn’t seem very sweet,” the bigger guy said. He dragged his eyes slowly from my head to my toes, and my hands twitched at my sides. When I formed them into fists, he smirked.
His friend dug his elbow into his side and winked. “Oh, but she does.”
“Don’t fucking touch her.” Anger burned at my throat, and I unclenched and clenched my hands into tighter fists. My chest heaved with a deep inhale.
The man stepped closer to me. “What happens if we do?” He took another step. “Going to beat us up too?”
I narrowed my eyes. Dallas. I kept my breathing even, trying to calm myself. He wanted me to get defensive. They wanted me to throw the first punch. I wouldn’t.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spat. I dug my nails into my palms, and the muscles in my forearms flexed. There was a mirror off to the side that led to a small room, and the guard that brought me here was likely in that room waiting for me to cross the line. Was he the only guard in there?
The man put his hands on the wall on either side of my head, leaning forward until the heavy stench from his rancid breath clung to the small space between us. “I have a better idea,” he said with a sinister grin. “When I fuck your girlfriend, do you think she’ll scream my name so loud she forgets yours?”
Any self-control I’d had was gone in that instant, and a red filter clouded my vision. I threw my head forward, slamming my forehead against the bridge of his nose and earning a surprised shriek from him. He lifted his hand to his nose, wiping the slow trickle of blood from his upper lip.
“Get him,” he demanded.
When his friend lunged for me, I turned my head in his direction, missing the first man’s fist before it hit my stomach. I grunted, bending forward. Bile crept into my throat, and I swallowed it back. The smaller man grabbed my arms, twisting them behind me before I could stand upright. I groaned when he pulled harder, causing an extra stretch in my shoulders that traveled into my back.
“You got a cheap shot,” the bigger man said, cracking his knuckles in front of my face. Then he grinned and brought his arm back before he threw his fist forward.
The crack when his knuckles hit the cartilage in my nose was louder than I had expected, and when he immediately hit me a second time, the pain was blinding. I tasted the iron in the back of my throat, and blood burst from my nose.
“Fuck,” I grunted, looking down. Blood dripped to the floor in front of me, and my vision blurred.
