The bullet that hurt the most.
Chapter Forty-Two
AYDA
No one knew what to do.
From the moment Harry approached Sutton, I’d been holding my breath, but I knew I wasn’t the only one. On either side of me, Deeks and Autumn’s breaths had become shallower, their bodies—like mine—leaning as far forward as they could manage, as did every man and woman at our backs.
We were all watching. Wondering what Harry could possibly be saying that would make Sutton’s eyes get that hollow. What would encourage him to pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head in a desolate move before his glance flickered to the car?
No one dared move when Harry climbed in, and Howard looked over at us all with a one-shouldered shrug, his hands resting on the crap that lined his utility belt. The way he flinched as the low murmur of Drew’s shouts came from inside the car, and when—what felt like a millennia later—Drew was kicked out of Sutton’s cruiser ready to fight—and broken.
He was utterly broken in a way I never wanted to see a man broken.
I was the first to move, my body pushing back from the rail and rushing to the steps that would carry me to him. Jeddstepped in front of me before I reached them and put up his hand in ajust wait a minutegesture.
“Get out of the way, Jedd.”
“Just—”
“I swear to God, if you say give him a minute, I will kick you in the nuts and follow up with removing a few of your teeth with my knee.”
“We don’t know—”
“Move!” I’d never heard my voice with the edge of violence it had. These men may be as much my family as Drew’s, but he was not going to stop me from going to him. Even if the gesture was designed to protect me.
Jedd half stepped and was half dragged by Slater from my path, and I offered a nod of thanks as I leaped the few steps and rushed to where Drew was kneeling, hunched over on himself. There was no way to know how he would react to my being there, but I was, once again, driven by instinct.
I kneeled in front of him, my left hand on my thigh as my right reached out and pushed into his hair, curling at the nape of his neck. I didn’t say anything for the longest time. Just let him bleed emotionally in any way he needed to. I had no idea what had transpired in the back of the car, but by Drew’s reaction, the exchange had been worse than any one of us could conceive.
I shuffled closer, ignoring the press of rocks into my flesh. The light had turned a strange orange glow that painted everything around us, making our little scene seem all the more surreal. When I was as close as I could get, Drew moved only enough to press his forehead against my thighs in seek of comfort.
“What just happened?” I whispered, keeping my fingersmoving in the same constant and comforting rhythm.
He struggled to breathe, growling and blowing the air from his cheeks in one long stream before he inhaled like an injured, angry animal. The air reverberated against the sobs trapped in his throat, and the only sound Drew made was a rough, strained snarl in the back of his throat every time he exhaled again. The cycle repeated. Half of him breaking. Half of him willing his mind, soul, and body to work like a machine with no feelings. He couldn’t do anything with his hands still restrained behind his back, and even though I trusted him implicitly, I couldn’t help but think it was a good thing. He was being forced to break apart, for whatever reason, and breaking he was.
More than I’d ever seen him break before.
I could see the ring of red that mottled his skin under the cuffs, and looked up to Jedd, who was edging closer. We needed to set him loose eventually, and having the tools to do so would be needed. One solitary nod in the direction of Drew’s wrists and Jedd turned and headed to the porch. Obviously satisfied that I had the situation under control, he murmured to the rest of their guys, steering them inside so Drew could have time to gather himself. I saw a few of them look across at us with uncertainty, before giving in to Jedd’s commands, even if it was unwillingly.
“Jedd is getting something for the handcuffs, baby,” I whispered, continuing the gentle strokes. “It’s just you and me now. You and me.”
Drew raised his head slowly, his eyes red and swollen, his face lost and uncharacteristically scared. He parted his lips, and I watched as a tear slid over his mouth like a falling bomb he hadn’t wanted to set free.
I dropped my hands to his jaw, cradling him as I studied that hollow look in his eyes.
“You’re scaring me, Drew. Talk to me. Tell me what’s happening and let me help you.” I bent at the waist and brought my face close to his, desperate to see a part of his normal fortitude shining. All I could see reflected back at me was an edge of fear and very real, and very raw pain.
“He’s dying,” Drew whispered, barely making a sound.
My heart lurched, but I shuffled closer and focused. “Who? Who’s dying?”
He swallowed, and his face scrunched up in agony. “Harry.” As soon as he said the name, he winced. “My fucking Harry.”
The world felt as though it shuddered around me the moment Harry’s name passed Drew’s lips. My heart cracked open in my chest for me, for the whole MC, but mostly for Drew. The two men had a father and son dynamic that meant more to Drew than almost anything else. I closed the distance between us, my forehead pressing against his.
“How?” I whispered.
