Page 4 of Dangerous Men (Fortune City Mafia #1)

Drawn by the commotion, Tony and the bouncer covering the front door appear in the crowd, looking pissed as they make their way over to us.

I intercept them first, my voice low and hard as I speak to the bouncer. “Take those two to the back, away from the crowd,” I say, jerking my chin toward Tony’s men. “Hold them there until I say otherwise.”

At the very least, I want those two fired. But a much darker part of me wants to send them straight to Viper. He has a special talent for keeping guests alive and screaming for days before he finally lets death have them.

The bouncer glances at Tony, who nods quickly. “Do what he says.”

Knowing Tony will hold them until I get back, I leave them there, ignoring the increasingly frantic arguing from Tony’s peons as they’re escorted away. I follow the path the two women took through the crowd, the image of that empty glass stuck in my mind.

They couldn’t have gone far, I think, as I shove the back door open and step into the night.

Only to be greeted by an empty alley.

Shit. No sign of them.

I stand there, scanning the darkness for any trace of them, frustration building under my skin.

Why am I doing this? I don’t know this woman.

I owe her nothing, and God knows I’m not the hero in this story.

She’s probably fine. She’s with her friend, right?

She probably threw the drink in his face with the others; she probably didn’t even drink it.

But what if she did?

Fuck .

Grinding my teeth together, I pick a direction and make my way out of the alley and to the next block. The streets are dead, the hour late enough that most people are out drinking or at home in bed. But I don’t see them anywhere.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my town car parked against the curb, my driver Earl perched on the front bumper with a well-worn paperback in his hands. He looks, frowning. “Mister Sterling, sir? Everything okay?”

“Did you see two women go by?” I ask, still looking around for any sign of where they may have gone. “One with pink hair and a leather jacket, and one in a red dress?”

To my relief, he nods. “Yes, sir. They went off that way.”

I take off in the direction he gestures, scanning every alley for a glimpse of them.

Then I see it.

A shape on the ground ahead sprawled across the sidewalk. My pulse quickens, and I break into a run when I recognize the red of her dress.

It’s her.

Her purse lies spilled open on the ground next to her, with her wallet and phone beside it. But nothing appears to be missing.

She’s unconscious, crumpled on the pavement. I crouch beside her, checking for any visible injuries. There’s a scratch on her elbow and a nasty scrape on her knee, but otherwise, she looks unharmed.

Where the fuck is her friend?

Scowling, I shove her things back into her bag and scoop her into my arms, letting her head sag against my shoulder. Her hair smells like coconut. I take a deep breath, savoring it, as I carry her back to my waiting car.

I run into Earl first. I had no idea he was following me. The older man is a little winded when he stops, startled by the unconscious woman in my arms. “What happened?” he asks.

“I think she was drugged.” The words come out with a sharp edge of panic.

Earl steps closer, placing a steady hand on her forehead.

Then he takes her wrist to check her pulse.

He might not have a full medical degree like Sebastian, but he served his time as a medic overseas, and he knows his shit.

Nestled in my arms, she murmurs something as he touches her, her words muffled, and a possessive surge flares in me.

I have to fight not to pull her away from his touch.

Earl lowers her arm carefully. The heavy look in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.

What if I hadn’t gone after her? What if someone else had found her like this?

Something dark and violent rises inside me at the thought. I think I’ll give those men waiting in Tony’s backroom to Viper after all.

She stirs in my arms, her face pressing into my chest, breath warm against my shirt. I should call someone. I should get her to a hospital. My fingers flex around her, and I open my mouth, ready to order Earl to call Sebastian and get him down here to examine her.

But something stops me.

Some fucked-up, possessive part of me doesn’t want him here. I want to be the one to save her, I realize. For once in my life, I want to be the hero.

“Bring the car around,” I say instead. “We need to get her home.”

Earl doesn’t question why I’m bothering to help her. He nods once before taking off and is back with the car in barely any time at all .

I open the door and set her down gently in the spacious back seat before circling to the other side to climb in beside her.

As we pull away from the curb, she stirs again, a soft sound escaping her lips.

“Hey,” I say quietly, leaning closer. “You doing okay, Red?”

She doesn’t answer. My gaze drifts over her face, taking in every detail before dropping lower to where she’s almost spilling out of the top of her dress. It’s difficult to pull my eyes away.

“Where to, boss?” Earl’s voice cuts through the silence from the front seat.

Where indeed? I open her bag and pick through her belongings until I find her driver’s license.

Sydney Sinclair. In her ID photo, she’s smiling. Happy.

She lives just a few blocks away, and after giving Earl the address, I lean back against the leather seats, trying to calm my thoughts.

It doesn’t take long for us to pull up outside her apartment.

The building is some sort of café, but when Earl drives around to the other side, there are two apartments taking up the second floor, accessible only from the back.

I find her keys inside her purse, gather her things together, and help her out of the car. She can stand and walk with a little prompting, but whatever they gave her, mixed with whatever she was drinking, has her pliant and unaware of her surroundings.

I don’t believe in God, but I thank whatever deity, real or fictitious, out there that let me be the first to find her.

Fortune City might be a hell of a lot better off since my brothers and I took over here, but it’s still not a safe place for a beautiful woman like her to be alone and unconscious.

I guide her up the stairs to her door, unlocking it to let us inside.

Her place smells like her—like coconuts and new books.

It reminds me of the library they used to take us to when we were kids, on the brief occasions we left the orphanage.

I have the sudden urge to see her home with the lights on.

I want to experience it the way she sees it every day.

When I close the door behind us, she guides me to the bedroom, my hand on the small of her back to steady her. I lay her gently down on her bed, taking off her shoes and pulling a sheet over her.

Standing next to her bed, I hesitate, suddenly wanting to lie down next to her. The desire to do it is so strong I almost give in.

I grind my teeth together and push that temptation aside, heading to the kitchen to get her some water instead. She’ll need that. I spot a clean kitchen towel and run it under some cold water. She’ll need that, too.

When I make my way back to the bedroom and place the water on her nightstand, her chest is rising and falling steadily, and I assume she must be asleep.

I sit down on the bed next to her and lay the cold compress against her forehead.

I have to brush some of her wild curls away to get it to lay flat, and after I do, I can’t help but trace the curves of her face, bringing my fingers down her cheek, to her chin, and lower to her throat.

Her eyes are open, I realize.

Her gaze is glassy as she stares up at me. She doesn’t pull away from my touch, doesn’t look frightened. She just looks up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes, like she has all the trust in the world in me. Like I’m someone who deserves that trust.

It’s enough to make me jerk my hand away. I need to leave. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have touched her. She’s vulnerable, drugged, and I’m no better than the scum waiting for me at Tony’s club if I let myself cross that line.

Before I can second-guess myself, I stand and move away from her, walking quickly to her front door. I let it close behind me and lean against the door frame to take a deep, steadying breath, my heart beating too fast.

What the fuck is happening to me?