When I reentered the room, Kingston’s eyes were already on the door. “Did she plead her case with you?”
I nodded, unsure what to say. I understood her concern. But neither of us knew Drake D’Arthur the way Kingston did.
“Quinn, if you need help, do what Miss Alice told you and ask for Nanny. She can help more than Dr. Barrow can, and I won’t put an innocent woman or her family at risk. I almost did that…but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her or her children because she tried to help me.”
“Why does Dr. Barrow know so much?” My brow dipped. “Why come to her now?”
“She was friends with my mother. And, unfortunately, no one at Pendragon can prescribe antibiotics without my father finding out about it.”
“Buthebranded you! He didn’t think you’d need medicine?”
Kingston shrugged, his expression hard as he buttoned his shirt. “In his eyes, sickness is weakness. Meant to weed out those who can’t survive on their own. Others agree.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he shook his head.
“Trust me, I’m not one of those people. It’s…actually why I’m studying medicine. Why I’mreallystudying it, since I had to tell him it was a business decision and a way to expand our reach.”
“More like a way to access drugs that would knock him on his ass” I spat. Venom laced through my humorless laugh. “At least, I hope that’s the plan. So, we can get rid of him.”
It came out as a bloodthirsty joke, a way to feel like I had some control over a situation desperately spinning out of my grasp, but he responded seriously.
“Of course, it is. If it comes to that.”
A part of me wanted to be the voice of reason, state for the sake of saying it that murder was wrong, and I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Blah, blah, blah.
Mostly so Kingston wouldn’t have it on his conscience.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it after seeing the mark seared into his chest. I couldn’t do it while it echoed deep withinmychest, either. As if his pain was mine.
I just wanted to fight it.
In that moment, certainty coursed through me.
I’d do whatever had to be done to stop Drake D’Arthur from hurting Kingston again—from hurting anyone—however we had to do that.
Whatever the price, I’d pay it.
To get us all to the end.
Chapter Eight
By the time we returned to Pendragon, night had fallen.
As we pulled up the driveway, the front door opened and Landon and Max came out to meet us.
Max’s voice rang out as Kingston shut off the bike’s engine. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Taking Kingston’s hand, I climbed off the bike and cocked my head toward Max. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he huffed. “Just didn’t know he had a motorcycle.”
I walked up the steps and wrapped my arms around him. “Aw, Max, didyouwant a motorcycle, too?”
Max grumbled. “I’m just saying, aesthetically speaking, if anyone should have a bike, it’s me.”
Landon stifled a laugh beside us, and when Max released me, I leaned over and gave my White Knight a hug, too.
“You’re alright?”
