Whatever this costs me.
I’ll be here for her.
No matter the goddamn outcome.
Chapter Two
MERCS
The halls of the hospital make me anxious.
Effa’s in testing, and I have to fucking wait, pacing a path into the tile floor.
The ride over was torture. She crashed again, and they had to shock her to bring her heart back into rhythm. After that, things stabilized, but it nearly destroyed me.
I’ve never been this tense.
At any second, she could be taken from me, and I can barely think straight. I drag my hands through my hair as I pace, trying to drown out the ache in my chest.
“Mercs,” Alana calls.
Footsteps pound down the hall toward me, and before I look up, she crashes into my body, wrapping herself around me.
I hold her tight. “I’m sorry.”
She pulls back. “Sorry? For what? This isn’t your fault. She’s going to be fine.” Her voice trembles despite her words, and her face is tearstained with blotchy red marks.
“I should’ve been with her. Protecting her from that fuckhead. When I get my hands on him—”
Tank studies me. “You look like shit, brother. Sit down. I’ll grab you a coffee.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Luke steps closer. “You won’t be. But if you collapse, you’re no good to her.Sit.” He uses that authoritative voice that bodes no argument, so I nod reluctantly and drop into a plastic chair, elbows braced on my knees.
Kristy rubs my back. I don’t know why, but it steadies me.
I glance at Luke. “Did they find Jett?”
He frowns. “Why would we need to?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, they don’t know.
I stand again, my breath sharp. “That bastard did this.”
Luke steps in front of me and utters one word, “Explain.”
“I walked into the foyer, and Effa looked… wrong. Not tipsy, not tired, wrong.” The memory scrapes across my skull as I speak, “She was hanging off Jett like her bones wouldn’t hold her up. He had her under his arm, forcing her forward. Thirty minutes earlier, she’d left me steady on her feet, clear-eyed, and laughing. Then suddenly she was wrecked.”
My jaw tightens. “I confronted him. He dropped her like a dead weight and vanished. Just left her on the goddamn floor.”
Andi’s chair screeches back as she bolts upright. “He brought her a drink,” she blurts. “I saw it. Before that, she was sober. He must’ve spiked it.”
The room goes still, not quiet, still. Like something predatory has just lifted its head.
Footsteps thunder down the hall, fast and uneven. Raoul appears first, face pale and wild-eyed. Liam fromSwift Divisionfollows close behind, both looking like they’ve run straight into a storm.
My body coils tight.