For a moment, just a moment, I forget the danger he is in by being here, I forget how easily he could be murdered, or even arrested and then murdered in a jail cell. His body is big and warm, a shelter in a storm of torment. I draw in his spicy scent, drown in just how good he feels.
I don’t want to let him go and it’s him, in fact, that pulls back, searching my face. “Are you okay?” he demands urgently, his dark eyes etched with worry, with more torment than usual.
“Yes,” I say, and in that moment, all I can think is that I love everything about this man. His dark good looks. His strength, and even the torment that lives inside him and quite possibly destroys him a little more every day, and me with him, but there’s a moan from the bathroom that forces me back to the moment where I belong and I amend that statement, “I’m okay, but Logan isn’t. I shot him in the foot. He needs medical attention.”
Another loud groan bellows from behind me and worried that Logan might actually bleed to death—I’m not a killer, I don’t want Logan to make me a killer. I twist around in Adrian’s arms, and with him on my heels, step fully back into the bathroom. I gasp as we find Logan shirtless and trying to use his garment to tie off his foot. He glares up at me, and then Adrian, who has pulled the door shut and is now by my side.
“Like fuck you didn’t know where he was,” Logan snarls. “He’s a killer. He killed his brother. And he’ll fuck you to the finish and then kill you, too.”
The words cut and punch and I glance at Adrian to find his spine stiff, the tight press of his lips accented by his dark goatee. Logan starts shouting profanities at Adrian and I honestly don’t know how the man is speaking right now, for the pain he must feel, but shock is a powerful thing.
Adrian doesn’t react to the onslaught of words, at least not with comment. He moves toward Logan and unsure of his intent, I’m preparing to act, to intervene. Adrian kneels beside Logan. I’m instantly right behind him, about to go to my knees, but I never get the chance. Logan curses at Adrian again and then takes a swing at him. I gasp as Adrian catches Logan’s hand, and then shoves Logan to his back. He doesn’t even punch Logan, but somehow Logan seems out of energy, unable to get up, thank God. Adrian grabs Logan’s shirt, ripping it into pieces and I understand his intent now. That shirt will be used to wrap Logan’s wound properly and stop the bleeding. Adrian’s trying to save Logan’s life, despite the fact that there is no question that if the situation were reversed, Logan would leave him for dead.
Yes, Adrian killed his brother, but I have never been more certain that in that moment that he had a reason, an unavoidable, critical reason.
“What the hell, Adrian?”
At the sound of Savage’s voice, who is both a wild-ass crazy person and a doctor, relief follows. I whirl around to find him—big, thickly muscled, a scar down his face–consuming the doorway behind us. He moves quickly past me and kneels next to Logan and Adrian.
“You cannot be here, dweeb,” Savage continues, focused on Adrian. “You need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Logan demands of Savage, and then he starts cursing at him. Savage reaches inside the leather bag at his hip, pulls out a syringe of some sort, injects Logan, and Logan is out instantly, eyes shut, voice now silent.
“I got this,” Savage says, refocused on Adrian, even as he’s pulling supplies from his bag. “An ambulance is on the way. That means the police, too, fucktard. Get the hell out of here before you end up arrested and dead in your jail cell. And take your woman with you.”
Adrian lowers his head to speak to Savage, and I don’t know what he says, but Savage nods. A second later, Adrian is on his feet, closing the space between me and him, capturing my hand. “Let’s go.”
“You go,” I say, digging in my heels, my hand pressed to his T-shirt-clad chest. “I shot him. I have to give a statement. I have to stay—”
His hand cups my neck. “Waters will have you killed, maybe tonight. I’m not letting that happen. We go now.”
“No time for the good girl assistant DA right now,” Savage snaps. “Get the fuck out of here!”
He’s barely spoken the words and Adrian has my hand, leading me out of the bathroom, and doing so with a force and pace that leaves me no further room to argue. He turns us right, and away from the dining room, toward the rear of the building, down the narrow hallway, but not before I spy Adam blocking the path right. That’s why we’re still alone. Walker is controlling the traffic to the bathrooms. In a flash, Adrian’s pushing open the exit door, and we’re leaving the building to enter a dark alleyway open left and right with a fence several feet directly in front of us, an old car sitting beside it. Suddenly sirens pierce the air and police cars are coming from either direction.