Page 63 of Raff
“Okay, how—” I started, only to get cut off by my phone. “One sec,” I said, moving away from his desk and toward the door, suddenly feeling like I needed a little fresh air.
Because if what Arty was suggesting was true, then Drake wasn’t just a conman; he was a killer.
Seeing York’s name on the screen, I swiped to answer as I made my way over to lean on my car at the street.
“Hey, York, is she asking—”
“Raff,” York barked, out of breath.
The whole world fell out from under me.
I straightened, my heartbeat in my throat, my stomach at my feet.
“What happened?” I asked, struggling to hear over the rush of my blood in my ears.
“She’s… she’s on her way to Amarantha.”
She was on her way to Ama?
As in… the doctor wife of one of the Golden Glades guys?
Had she fallen?
Gotten sick?
Drugged at the club somehow?
“She’s okay. But…”
“But what?” I snapped, rushing around the car toward the driver’s side.
“Someone got into the house, Raff. And they… they did some damage before I heard anything.”
Damage?
Lulu wasdamaged?
“Fuck!” I snapped, the rage and helplessness overwhelming me. My fist slammed into the hood of the car. Once, twice. Five times. The metal groaned and dented. Pain shot up my hand.
“She’s gonna need you,” York said when I was done beating up my car. “You need to get to the clinic.”
He rattled off the address.
And I was in the car, pedal to the floor, as my mind raced with a million different horrible ways Lula could be hurt.
By that bastard Drake.
He’d pay, I vowed to myself, one way or another, he would pay for putting his hands on her.
And it was going to be slow.
Bloody.
Painful.
But first, first I had to check on my girl.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
