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"Who the fuck are you?" Logan spat. He dropped the needle he was about to jab into Dylan, scrambling for his gun — for Ajax's gun.
Fear clawed at Dylan's insides. He couldn't bear to lose Ajax now, not when they had just found each other…
Like a lightning bolt, Ajax lunged forward. Logan barely had time to twitch before Ajax's fist connected with hisface, delivering a powerful punch that sent Logan reeling. He staggered and collapsed to the ground, groaning.
"Yes!" Dylan gasped. He wriggled in his bonds, wanting to get to Ajax,needinghim.
A punch like that would have sent Dylan to the ER. Unhappily, Logan was made of stronger stuff. All that muscle wasn't just for show. Without needing to recover, Logan lunged for the gun.
He got to it before Ajax could. His eyes narrowed into slits, blood oozing from his nose. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Logan howled. His finger twitched on the trigger. "You're a Thorne man, right? You work for me!"
"I work for your father," Ajax commanded, his voice steady despite the danger. "Put the gun down."
"My dad this, my dad that… I'm sick of hearing about my dad!" Logan snarled. "He thinks he can make me act like the perfect son?" He held out the gun again, pointing it at Dylan. "Maybe I'll kill this asshole just to teach him a lesson, see how he likes th—"
When it came to standoffs, Ajax clearly had a favorite strategy: stop them before they start.
Before Logan was even done ranting, high on his own ager, Ajax lunged forward. For a big guy, Logan clearly wasn't expecting Ajax to move so fast.
Ajax pinned Logan's arms to his sides, preventing him from pointing the gun at anyone. The two men struggled furiously.
Dylan's eyes widened as he watched them wrestle, the tension in his body nearly unbearable. Ajax was a trained mafia enforcer, his body honed by years of experience in this brutal world. But Logan was not to be underestimated. He grappled with Ajax, struggling, the tendons in his neck cording as he brought the barrel of the gun closer to Ajax, closer, closer…
"Run, Dylan!" Ajax ordered, his voice strained as he grappled with Logan. "Get out of here!"
Fuck that. Dylan, stubborn as ever, wasn't going to just leave!
His eyes darted around the pool shed, searching for something – anything – that might give Ajax an advantage over Logan...
And then he spotted it: the discarded needle of heroin, lying just a few feet away.
His heart racing, Dylan lunged for the needle. He grabbed it between his tied-together hands, yanked the cap off with his teeth, and turned back to the fray. He hesitated for only a moment, taking careful aim…
And then plunged the needle into Logan's ass.
The effect was immediate; Logan howled in pain and stumbled, the gun slipping from his grasp.
"Fuck!" Logan cursed, his face contorted in a mix of anger and surprise. When he looked down, the fight seemed to drain from him in an instant. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…!"
Seizing the opportunity, Ajax threw Logan down, pinning him in place with a force that left no room for escape. His gaze flicked to Dylan, still clutching the now-empty needle. "Did you just give him an overdose?" Ajax demanded, his voice tight with concern.
Dylan let out a humorless laugh. "In a vein, maybe. In his ass? Let's find out."
"Fuck you both," Logan snarled, even as his eyes began to glaze, his body growing limp under Ajax's grip.
Ajax watched closely as Logan's words turned into unintelligible mumbles, his consciousness fading away. He checked his breathing, assessing him. Only when he was sure Logan wasn't a threat any longer — or in immediate threat himself — did Ajax retrieve the gun. Holstering the weapon, he rushed to Dylan's side, hands working quickly to untie the ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles.
"Are you okay?" Ajax asked, voice gentle yet firm, his dark eyes searching Dylan's face for any sign of injury.
Dylan wanted to have some kind of cool retort, but the tenderness in Ajax's gaze made the words catch in his throat.Instead, he nodded, unable to meet Ajax's eyes as he felt himself exposed, raw, and vulnerable.
"Let me check," Ajax insisted, his large hands moving over Dylan's body with surprising gentleness. He ran his fingers along Dylan's bruised and battered skin, probing gently, making sure nothing was broken.
The checkup, Dylan could take or leave.
But the concern on Ajax's face was something else. Dylan had never experienced such care from anyone before.
"Nothing feels too serious," Ajax concluded, his relief visible. "But after we rush Marsh to a hospital, I want to get you checked out, just to be sure."
