I have no fucking idea what that means, but if Russell is in cahoots with Landry Oil and helped plan the attack on my ranch—on Dylan and Della—he’s a dead man.
My vision narrows, a red haze settling over everything.I don’t realize I’ve grabbed Tyler’s shirt until I feel the fabric bunching in my fists.
“Where are they now?”I snarl.
He shakes his head.“I have no idea.One guy shoved Russell into the back seat of a car, and the CEO got in the front passenger seat.They drove away too quickly for me to get a license plate.”
Fuck.
The primal part of me wants to hunt Russell down, to make him tell me where Della is, and make him pay for putting Dylan in danger.But the thought of leaving Amelia and Dylan vulnerable makes my stomach twist.
“I need to call Shadow.”
ChapterTwenty-Three
Maddox
The whiskey burns going down my throat, but I welcome the sting.My gaze wanders to the clock.Another hour has gone by with no word on Della.I don’t know if she’s dead or alive.I’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, conjuring up every possible scenario, one more traumatic than the other.
I used find Granddaddy sitting in this very chair late at night, and I’d wonder what kept him up at night.Was it the animals or the heavy weight of responsibility?But now, I gotta wonder if he ever sat in this chair, wondering how he made a mess of things.If he did, how did he correct it?
I take another sip, letting the amber liquid swirl in the crystal tumbler.
Amelia hasn’t said more than ten words since we got back from the hospital.Judy tried her best at dinner, but none of us could eat.The empty chair where Della should have been was too much for any of us to bear.
The stairs creak, but I don’t turn around.Amelia steps into the living room and heads straight to the liquor cabinet.She pours herself two fingers of whiskey, and I watch as she knocks it back in one go.
For a long while, she just stands there.I don’t dare push for more than her presence.We’re both broken in different ways tonight.
She pours herself another, then walks over and sits beside me.Silence envelopes us as we nurse our drinks.Then her head finds my chest.I know I don’t deserve her comfort, but I’m too selfish to pull away so I drape my around her shoulders, my fingers toying with the ends of her hair.
“I’m sorry I lost it today,” she whispers.“I know none of this is your fault.”
I stare into my glass.“Yes, it is.” Every fucking bad thing that’s happened lately is a product of my choices.
“No.”She shifts to look at me, eyes fierce even in the darkness.“You’re no more to blame than I am.We may not know Russell’s involvement in this, but he wouldn’t be involved at all if it weren’t for me.”
I open my mouth to tell her how wrong she is—that none of this is on her—when my phone vibrates against my thigh.Shadow’s name flashes on the screen.
“Tell me,” I answer, already fearing the worst.
“I found Della.It’s bad.Really bad.Taking her to the hospital now.”
My blood freezes.“How bad?”
“Don’t make me answer that,” he croaks, and that’s really all the answer I need.
I disconnect the call and turn to Amelia.
“They found Della.She’s alive, but critical.I have to go to the hospital.”
I stand, and Amelia follows, her face pale in the darkness.“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I reply.“Dylan needs you here.The house is surrounded by my men.You’re safe.”
She searches my face, then nods slowly.Her hand comes up to my cheek, warm against my skin.“Be careful,” she whispers, then rises on her toes to press her lips to mine.The kiss is brief but carries the weight of everything we’re too afraid to speak aloud.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting in this stiff hospital chair.Three hours?Four?The fluorescent lights overhead buzz with a constant hum that matches the tension in the room.The waiting area is filled with leather cuts bearing the Fallen Demons patch, and me.
