He wouldn’t do this.
All this time, I had been thinking The Lucaya Group was responsible for every bad thing that had happened to The Devil’s Knights and me.
Before I could speak, a loud boom rocked the cave, shaking dust and sand loose. To my left, boulders fell from the ceiling and walls, the only exit now blocked. Even if I could feel my thumb to break it, getting out of the zip ties wouldn’t help. My legs were still bound, like my hands, and had no feeling.
I also had no escape plan.
One wrong turn could lead to an even worse scenario. It was also becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.
The masked men huddled, muttering amongst themselves, and with the ringing in my ears, I couldn’t focus. Toxic particles spread across the dank space, clouding my vision.
My gaze flicked between Tate and Marcello, the two barely awake and on the verge of death. Marcello had a wife, a child, and a family who loved him. And Tate? He was my entire life. My head of security, my brother, my best friend. Olivia wouldn’t survive without him.
She would never forgive me.
Marcello’s eyes shot open.
Relief washed over me.
Tate groaned, using whatever strength he had to lift his head. “Drake, listen to me. Don’t let them win.”
“No, hang on. Try to stay awake.”
“I love you, brother,” he said in a hushed tone. “Tell Liv the same. Take care of her for me.”
“Love you, too,” I whispered, fighting the pain of my lungs filling with gas, hoping to stay awake long enough to go home.
As the men approached me, the cave shook once more, and this time, it collapsed on the right side, sending rocks crashing down on my brother.
“Tate,” I shouted, tears stinging my eyes.
My head spun from the lack of oxygen, my lungs contracting with each breath. That was the last thing I remembered before losing consciousness.
CHAPTER 24
DRAKE
Iawoke to someone lifting me off the ground, kicking up dirt that flew onto my face. Rocking to the side, I peeked up at the person carrying me. I blinked a few more times, and light splashed my face.
“Drake,” a familiar voice said. “Can you hear me?”
Cole.
My cousin.
I forced my eyes all the way open, but it hurt to do anything but roll my head to the side.
“You’re going to be okay,” Cole said.
“Tate,” I croaked, my voice raw from dehydration.
Cole sniffed.
No answer.
As Cole lowered me onto a stretcher, my bones and muscles ached—another sign of dehydration and starvation. I blinked a few times to clear my blurred vision. My eyelids felt heavy and swollen.
Cole rolled the stretcher across the bumpy terrain, letting out soft sobs. The New Mexico heat smacked me in the face.
