Page 30 of His to Take

Dylan's heart raced as Logan drew closer, their faces mere inches apart. He could feel the cold metal of the gun shift to press against his temple, but he refused to flinch away.

"He wouldn't fucking shut up about it! So I've learned my lesson," Logan continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "When you kill someone, don't leave any loose ends."

With a swift motion, Logan pulled a small baggie of white powder and a capped syringe from his pocket. He dangled the bag tantalizingly in front of Dylan's eyes.

"See this?" he asked, smirking. "One overdose, coming right up. Everyone will just think you were another dumb junkie whogot in over his head. Clean, easy, and no mess to get bitched out for."

Shit. Dylan felt the crushing weight of despair settle over him, his hope for rescue dwindling by the second. If only Ajax were here. But he knew that was a futile wish — no one had seen him come to this godforsaken place. He'd made sure of that.Great work, you fucking idiot.

"Any last words, pretty boy?" Logan taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Dylan looked Logan straight in the eye and said, "Go fuck yourself."

Logan laughed, a cruel, twisted sound that chilled Dylan to the bone. "Nice," he said, his grip on the gun tightening. "Very creative. Not. Now, let's get this over with, shall we?"

Chapter fifteen

Neon lights flickered, casting an eerie glow on the rain-slicked pavement. Ajax drove with purpose through the night. His car's engine purred, a low growl that matched the tension coiled within him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, as he spoke into the phone pressed against his ear.

"Any news on your turf?" Ajax asked, his voice gravelly and urgent.

On the other end of the line, the sound of men moving and murmured conversations filled Ajax's ears. Dante was clearly preoccupied elsewhere in the city. "Sorry, man," Dante replied, his voice strained. "No sign of him yet."

Ajax's jaw clenched. "Fine," he said, forcing himself to remain calm. "Marsh's kid?"

"Securely on site," Dante said. "The hotel by the lake. I've got my guys ringing it."

"Not on him?"

Dante let out a growl of frustration. "Our special friend is getting antsy about the heat his little shithead is cooking up. He wants us to be as unobtrusive as possible. The re-election has him jumpy. He doesn't want the average voter to know the mafia are guarding his son."

He sighed. "But there's no drama so far. The kid's just been knocking them back at the bar." Dante relayed the location to Ajax, but added a warning. "If you're going to come, keep a low profile. Marsh isn't completely jumping at shadows. We've done our best to keep that little bastard out of the spotlight, but the media might still be sniffing around for any loose ends."

"Thanks for the heads up," Ajax muttered, his mind already racing ahead to his next move.

He'd seen the pain in Dylan's eyes when he'd found out about his friend. There was no way that Dylan was going to do anything else but hunt down Logan.

And now he was armed.

Ajax wasn't sure who he was going to be protecting in the end: Dylan from Logan, or Logan from Dylan.

But either way, he knew one thing: his job may have been to protect Logan, but he was going to keep Dylan safe.

As he approached the hotel, a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. This wasn't just about protecting a valuable asset anymore; it was about a young man who had somehow managed to burrow beneath Ajax's professional exterior and awaken something fiercely protective within him.

Ajax moved past Dante's men with silent nods of acknowledgment. Ajax stalked through the hotel doors, his movements swift and silent.

Logan wasn't at the bar.

Which meant that Ajax needed to find him — and fast.

The front desk was out of the question. Too many cameras. The last thing the Thornes needed in the middle of thisclusterfuck was footage of him asking about Logan. The fewer people that knew he was chasing Logan, the better.

Ajax prowled through the hotel's lavish corridors, his eyes scanning for anyone who could provide him with what he needed to know. Finally, he spotted a maid in a quiet hallway, pushing her cleaning cart.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said respectfully, his deep voice commanding her attention.

She looked up, startled by his sudden presence. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, eyeing him warily.

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