My head jerked. “Come again?”
“I looked back a few years. Five of his singers that he was fucking are dead.”
“Five,” I whispered.
Bastian nodded, rage in his eyes. “Three ODs, one drowned in the bathtub, and another hanged herself.”
“Jesus,” Landon said.
Alessio said nothing, just prowled the edge of my living room. A muscle in Cole’s jaw ticked.
“And the cops ignored it?” I asked.
“They haven’t linked him to it.” Bastian spread his hands. “They just see ODs and suicides.”
“Bullshit.” The word was like a bullet. “Fine.” I sliced a hand through the air. “If the law won’t stop him, I will.”
“You want to go unsanctioned?” Bastian lifted a brow.
“Hell, yeah. I’ll stop him.”
“Wewill,” Landon said. “You’re not in this alone. Georgie is yours, and you’re ours.”
I looked at them all. “I want Bruno, as well.”
Bastian nodded.
“No,” a female voice said. “They’remineto kill.”
I jerked around. Georgie stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. She was only wearing one of my T-shirts, which thankfully swamped her and came to mid-thigh.
I closed the distance between us. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Something in me twisted. I didn’t want anyone seeing those bare legs but me.
She took a step forward, wobbled. I grabbed her arm, and thankfully she leaned on me. The bruises around her eye were darker, lots of black and purple. I locked my rage down.
She looked at the others. Her gaze moved to Landon.
“I know you.” Her brow creased, like she was fighting to remember.
“Landon,” he said.
“He treated you last night,” I said.
“I remember your voice. Thank you.”
“Georgie, this is Landon Bradshaw. Bastian Thorne is the one on the couch.”
Bastian inclined his head.
“Alessio Rossi.” I nodded my head. “And Cole Black.”
Alessio dipped his chin and Cole nodded.
“These are your friends?” she asked.
“Most of the time.”
Bastian snorted.
