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Ignoring him, I said, “Get the gag out of his mouth.” My body was heavy, and my eyelids continually threatened to close. The more I talked, the more my words slurred together. “What’s happening to me?” This was directed at Doc who was standing in the corner, arms folded over his impressive chest, and a smirk on his face.

“That would be the drugs,” he answered.

“Fucking drugs. Why’d you have to drug me? I’m sleepy. Why am I sleepy? Papa Jose would…” I struggled to maintain consciousness. There was something I had to remember. Something important…

“Repeat after me,” I slurred. “We don’t tie people up unless it’s for a sex game. Tying people up is not nice. Drugging people is also not nice.”

Vaguely, I realized that the drugs were probably the only reason why I didn’t feel any pain. Instead of a blistering, searing pain, my body felt light and buoyant.

“In my defense, he tried to shoot me.” Ryder said this casually, shrugging his shoulders.

At his words, I saw red. Nobody - and I meant nobody - was allowed to harm my guys.

“Why is he still alive?!” I exclaimed. Kai’s eyes widened in terror. Damn right he should be scared. I was a terrifying person when you threatened what was mine. “Bring him here, so I can kill the fucker.”

“Ehhh…” Ronan began, while I could’ve sworn I heard Asher mumble, “So sexy.”

“We need to radio Fallon. Let him know you’re alright,” Calax said gently. He seemed to be trying to distract me from my murderous tendencies. What. An. Asshole.

If you couldn’t murder someone, what was the point of life?

And yes, I blamed my thoughts on the drugs.

“Can I take a quick nap first?” I asked, though the words sounded like a foreign language. Doc, of all people, chuckled. “Suck a dick, Doc.”

“Already do,” he retorted.

Before I could reply, darkness crept through the corners of my vision. I had one final thought before sleep consumed me: when did Doc, that fucker, have time to drug me?

* * *

I wokeup to someone whispering my name. Peeling open my crusted eyelids, I stared up at Asher’s handsome, boyish face. He held a dark, familiar object in his hand.

A radio.

“I’ve been talking to Sarge,” he said softly. Without breaking eye-contact, he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I think it would be good if he heard from you.”

The drugs must’ve been wearing off; there was a dull throbbing in my stomach that seemed to reverberate throughout my entire body. Still, I smiled and extended a hand for the radio.

After quickly explaining what buttons to push, Asher ducked out of the room. The sky was an inky black, almost velvety in appearance. The candles have long since burned out, leaving only the moon as light.

My heart hammering, I pressed down on the button Asher had indicated.

“Fallon?” I whispered, my voice cracking. I released the button immediately, my breath bated as I waited for him to respond.

There was a crackle of static followed by a disbelieving gasp, “Adelaide?”

“I’m here.” Tears formed in my eyes, and my throat closed up. Emotions, some of them undefinable, battled within me. My hand was shaking as I held the radio to my lips. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

There was a gasp. Something akin to a sob.

Was Fallon crying?

More tears trailed down my cheeks and landed on my dry lips. I licked them away, tasting salt.

“I’m so...I was so fucking worried.”

“I know.” And I did know. There was nothing Fallon hated more than being helpless. Than seeing the people he cared about in pain. “But I’m okay. Are you okay?”