Chapter 42
Boston carried me in his arms through the warehouse and out onto the street.
Two sports cars, one blue and one orange screeched to a stop beside Boston’s motorcycle.
Sin, Presley, and Dacre bolted from their cars.
Clearly Boston had taken his motorcycle and broken every law in existence to get to me faster than the guys could in their cars.
If he hadn’t made it when he did…
“It was your mother who took her,” Boston said flatly. “She’s dead.”
Worry and grief spiked through me. How were they going to take it that their mother had abducted me, and I was the reason she was killed? She was their mom. That meant something.
Surprise colored their faces, silence falling.
It was Sinclair who spoke first. “She was dead to us a long time ago.”
Dacre made a sound of agreement. “She took Dempsey from us and was going to kill her. I would have done it myself if I’d gotten here first.”
Relief flooded me and my body trembled. Relief at seeing them. At their reactions to Mona’s death. At everything that had happened. All of it crashed over me like a tsunami. Tears fell down my cheeks, and I sobbed against Boston’s chest.
His arms tightened around me as the other three closed in.
“Sass, please don’t cry. You’re safe now,” Pres soothed, stroking my hair.
“I couldn’t wake you,” I cried. “I should have tried harder, but I couldn’t wake you when those car alarms were going off.”
“We were drugged,” Sinclair said, fingers brushing over my back.
“The whiskey was laced with sedatives. When I woke up, I had a text from Mona asking me to forgive her, saying that she was doing ‘this’ to protect us. She was the one who sent the whiskey claiming to be from my colleague. No matter how hard you tried, Princess, you wouldn’t have been able to wake us. ”
I lifted my head to stare at each of them in turn through my bruised and swollen eyes.
Dacre swore at the sight of me, and Sinclair’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth were at risk of cracking.
Pres took my chin between his fingers, his touch so gentle as he lifted my face. “She did this to you?”
I nodded, a tear sliding down my cheek.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Sass. I will never drink a fucking drop of alcohol from this day on. I’ll never let someone hurt you like this ever again.”
He gathered me in his arms, Boston letting him take me, and I leaned into him, letting the solid weight of his body hold me upright.
“It’s over,” Dacre soothed, his lips dropping to my shoulder in a featherlight kiss. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”
I lifted my head again, my face contorting in agony.
“But my father still can.”