Page 56 of Desert Loyalties

Alecia opens the door wider looking shocked to see me. “Skye? Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?” I ask.

Nodding without hesitation, she ushers me in. “Come in.” I step inside. Her place is the kind of home I wanted growing up. It’s homey and clean. I don’t have time to appreciate the drawings on her fridge right now, but dammit they’re cute.

Rather than beating around the bush, I get straight to it. “How do you know Christina LaGuerta?”

She freezes, dumbfounded. She sputters a few words until finally getting out, “What did that motherfucker tell you?”

“Huh?” now I’m confused.

“Caine. What the hell did he say?” She looks pissed.

“Nothing. This isn’t about him. I need your help, for Drake.”

Taking a deep breath, I steady myself.

“Drake’s been arrested. By the feds. LaGuerta is the best federal defence attorney we could find.”

Alecia nods slowly. “She is really good. But what’s that got to do with me?”

“Ranger tried her office,” I explain. “She’s busy. Full caseload. We were hoping you would make a call.”

She takes a few steps back. I follow.

“Please, Alecia. He’s being charged with serious crimes. I could lose him forever.Please.”

I’m begging now and I don’t care.

She stares at me for a long moment, face unreadable. But I know. I see it in the way her shoulders drop, in the shift behind her eyes. Before she even says it, I already know.

“I’ll do it,”

Chapter 23

MANDRAKE

I’m being brought into the Llloyd D. George United States Courthouse in full chains, ankles, wrists, even a fucking belly chain like I’m Hannibal Lecter. The fucking jumpsuit is scratching my balls. I’m led in through the back, through security. The marshals escorting me keep touching their guns, all bark no bite. Pussies.

Yesterday, I finally got my call.

Didn’t call Ranger. Didn’t call a lawyer.

I called Skye.

“Hey, darlin’,” I say into the phone, voice low, eyes locked on the door of the holding cell. My reflection looks like shit.

I’d told the fed I was calling my attorney. He glared, but left the room. Asshole.

“Drake? Oh my god, are you okay?”

Her voice nearly breaks me. Just hearing it, I feel my chest tighten.

“Hanging in there,” I say. “Did the club—?”

“They did,” she cuts in. “We’re getting you a ringer. The club, everyone—we’re here. You hear me? I’m here.”

I close my eyes. Let her words sink in.