Rubi backed up, but the sense that he wasn’t done kept me in place.
“What else?” I’d taken comfort in the news that Locke was whole enough to take care of Viktor, but Rubi’s face was telling another story. “Is Locke hurt?”
“Course he is. I don’t know how bad though. Stubborn fucker’s pretty mauled, but he won’t let us near and I’m starting to worry about him.”
Starting to? Rational me knew that didn’t mean Rubi hadn’t spent the last month as torn up over this shit as anyone else, but I wasn’t feeling rational. I was feeling every emotion under the fucking sun, and I couldn’t handle another second of it without seeing for myself that Locke was alive.
I pushed past Rubi and jogged to the bunkhouse, sensing Folk’s quiet presence a few steps behind me. I slipped inside, the bunks, the tiles, and the old fireplace a blur as I zeroed in on the only thing that could cure the vicious ache in my chest.
Locke.
Orla.
They were huddled on the floor next to a bed that contained someone I didn’t give a fuck about. Not yet anyway. I crossed the room in two strides and reached them in the same moment Locke hauled himself up to meet me.
It cost him, the movement. I saw the pain in his bloodshot gaze, the blood on his neck from a gash on his temple, on his arm, the bruising beyond the ink on every inch of skin I could see. I saw the glitch in his equilibrium and caught him before he fell.
I took him in my arms, careful with him in a way I’d never worried about before, bearing his weight as I pressed my lips to his forehead.
There was so much I wanted to say.
So much Ineededto say, but the words stuck in my throat, and a strangled noise escaped me instead.
Or maybe it was him.
I kissed him again, then drew back to truly look at him.
He was a fucking mess, and as amazing as his big, strong body felt against me, he wascold.
Need to fix that.
The thought rooted as Folk entered the bunkhouse. His gaze pinged between Viktor and Locke and he made the decision for me. “Catch me up. I’ll assess him while you get your shit together. Then it’s your turn.”
Folk spoke like he did to Alexei sometimes, with an authority that even the most delinquent among us couldn’t ignore. Even the most stubborn, and Locke was definitely that. He had to be, or we’d never have known him. And in the end, his concern for Viktor outweighed whatever was going on in his head.
He found his balance—stubborn, see?—and moved closer to the bed, giving Folk the rundown of everything Viktor.
Dehydration.
Exhaustion.
Addiction.
Locke pointed at some ugly marks on Viktor’s arms. “He’s going to be jonesing when he comes round. They jacked him to keep him down.”
Folk’s expression was unreadable.
I wanted to die. Jesus Christ. Jakov had been worried about the Albanians, but the monsters right on our doorstep had been just as bad. The goddamnCrows. I’d never forgive myself for not letting Alexei murder them all.
Long nails grazed my back.Orla. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet, perhaps realising these were the moments me and Cam had always moved heaven and earth to ensure she missed out on. Realisingwhy, because they were hard, even when we were dealing with someone like Viktor. Respect didn’t equal love, but seeing what they’d done to him still fucking hurt.
I pulled her close, tucking her against my side and taking a deep breath of her black-cherry scent. “How come you’re all wet too?”
“All the wrong reasons, sweetheart.” She licked my neck, a gesture that usually turned my dick to stone. “I’m going to find food for everyone, some dry clothes for Locke, and Lida’s breakfast.”
I held her tighter. “Don’t leave us.”
“I have to. He doesn’t want me to see what they did to him.”