Page 98 of Nothing to Fear

“My girl.” Alice swept her hair from her face to hold it in both hands. “We couldn’t find you.”

“Couldn’t find me?” She scanned left, right. Men, a lot of them, with one glaring omission. “Oh, God…” The words slipped out under her breath as clarity iced her veins. “Where’s Darroch?”

“Savanna—”

“She doesn’t know,” someone said.

Except she did, not right until that moment, but she did now.

Feet moved and she pushed through bodies until she was in the room. Yes, it was big, one bed with a curtain partially pulled around it, cold, sterile, everywhere but there. Him. Darroch. In bed, head elevated, a tube in his arm. Eyes closed. Was he breathing?

“He’s okay,” Alice said, putting an arm around her while rubbing the other. “He’s going to be okay.”

“He doesn’t look it.” Rushing to his side, she stroked his hair from his forehead leaving her hand there. “He’s warm. What happened?”

“We don’t know exactly.” Benedict, she didn’t have to tear her eyes away to identify him. “He was found in the alley by BHQ, unconscious, blunt force trauma to the head.”

“Your smart mouth,” she murmured, pushing to her tiptoes to rest her lips on his. “Anything to get out of paying for dinner.”

“There are drugs in his system, keeping him out.”

“They say he’ll wake up soon.” Not soon enough. “All we can do is wait.”

She kissed him once, and again, stroking his forehead and cheek. “Gentleman.”

“She better be the girlfriend, or we’re all just standing here while she assaults him.”

The speaker thought that was bad? Only straining every ounce of restraint prevented her from crawling into bed with him.

“Darroch belongs to her,” Alice said, rubbing her back and easing her down into a chair by hers.

Her hand drifted to Darroch’s. Still fixated on his face, her other one sought Alice’s and brought it to the bed to join hers and his, locking the three of them together. Whatever happened, they’d need to wait until he woke to get answers.

THIRTY-ONE

VOICES BY THE door had been mumbling to each other for a while. She heard the occasional word as tempers frayed.

“Stop with the squabbling.”

“Mast should be on a plane,” someone said.

Brant.

She’d barely looked at him before another voice rose.

“No.”

A single word from the man half in shadow in the corner.

That authority could only belong to one man. “Breck?” For the first time she looked at them all in turn. “Caber,” she knew. The two beside each other with the thick biceps had to be, “Acre. Axon.” A nod. “Ward, Tripp, Troy. Brant,” were familiar as well. The next boy got a smile. “Astor. Dougie,” and not to be left out, “my favorite Breckenridge, Buoy.”

“Still can’t reach the top shelf.”

The croak from the bed brought everyone’s attention round fast; her and Alice shot to their feet.

“Darroch, my sweet boy.”

By rote, he answered, “I’m fine, Mom.” Though when he ventured to crack an eye, his inspection turned to a frown. “Am I fine?”

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