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My vision doubled again, and I fought to hold onto consciousness.
“I miscalculated the dose last time.” Drake’s voice spoke to me as though from another dimension, coming across muffled as though spoken through cotton.
“That won’t happen again,” he promised as my heavy eyelids blinked up at the ceiling and my mouth fell slack.
My leg was moved and distantly, from the feel of pressure alone, I discerned that he was removing my panties.
Tugging at my dress.
“Clothes are a privilege, Angel.”
“I’ll kill you,” I tried to tell him, but the words came out a garbled, wet moan.
“Hush. You need rest.”
He slipped the black diamond necklace from my neck.
“Mother… fucker…”
My eyes crossed and the last strings tethering my mind to my body snapped, leaving me to fall back into the dark.
I neededto see it for myself.
I eased the bathroom door shut behind me, flipping the lock. With a bar full of Saints, it should have been assured that I’d be interrupted, but not today.
Not when the majority could barely roll themselves off the cots and pool tables where they were laid up to heal, most passed out from all the pain killers in their system.
Not me.
I’d gummed the little morphine pill Rook all but forced into my mouth and spit it out when he wasn’t looking. I wasn’t going back to sleep until Ava Jade was back. Until I knew she was safe.
A shaky breath filled my lungs as I turned, carrying the fresh bandages and clean cloth to the bank of stainless steel sinks. I took the time to wipe down the scratched surface before setting down the sterile materials and pressing my palms down against the cool metal.
I looked up, feeling a chill roll down my spine at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
It was unmistakably me, which was a sort of relief I supposed. Butfuckdid I ever look like shit.
The bandage taped over my eye was a gruesome shade of yellowish pink, soiled, bits of gray dust and debris discoloring the edges of the clear surgical tape holding it in place. My face was gaunt. Paler than I’d ever seen it. With dark purplish skin beneath the one eye I still had and the veins in my temple a striking blue against the thin skin covering them.
I’d managed to change out of my blood-covered clothes into gym shorts and a baggy t-shirt, one of the few extra sets of workout attire I kept here in the basement, but even the clean clothes couldn’t cover up how absolutelynot cleanI was. There was still blood in the shallow wrinkles slashing across my neck. In my dirty blonde hair sticking out at every angle.
I needed a fucking shower, but that would have to wait. We’d planned to use one of the working girls’ rooms upstairs to clean ourselves up after the meet. But without knowing exactly when Dies and Maverick would be showing up, we’d kept holding out.
I wanted to be there. Put the pressure on Mav if he even thought for a second about denying our request to hand over that little shit, Aries.
Rook was right, I didn’t really think it was him, either. But then why run?
Why was he even there to fucking begin with? He was the clean-up crew, not a frontman. If he wasn’t the guy, maybe he knew something that could help us at the very least. Something he wasn’t keen to share.
I coughed to clear my throat, giving my head a slight shake to bring myself back to the reason I came in here. I was procrastinating, and it wasn’t going to fucking help anything.
I licked my dry lips and gave my hands one final scrub under the hot water, drying them as well as I could before I set to work.
The bandages were practically fucking glued in place, and I cursed as I eased the edges of the surgical tape off my skin, leaving red marks behind.
“Grey,” Rook’s voice came through the door, followed by a soft double tap. “You good?”
“Fine.”
