Page 35 of Deviant Reign (Knight's Ridge Empire 6)

Think with your head, Son. Always. Never your heart. And never with anger.

Keep. Your. Fucking. Head.

Enemies will smell your weakness. The chink in your armour.

Dad’s voice is louder in my head than it usually is.

“FUCK,” I roar, desperate to drown it out, but also knowing that I need it. I need that little devil on my shoulder to stop me from doing something stupid. Something that could get me killed, or worse… her.

Scrolling away from Archer, I hit call on the person I should be talking to right now.

“Son,” Dad greets the second he picks up the phone. It’s not usual for him to answer on my first call so he must be aware that something’s going on. “I had your car collected. There’s another on its way to you.”

“Uh… thanks,” I say, not expecting those words to come down the line. “What the hell is going on?”

“We’re working on it.”

“Okay, well any chance you could hurry up? I want Luis Wolfe’s location. I owe him a bullet for this.”

“Theodore, don’t do anything stupid. Remember all the things I’ve sai—”

“I know, Dad. I am thinking with my head. But they fucking took her. They took her from me.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ll let you know once we’ve dug something up.”

The line goes dead, and I only just stop myself from launching my phone across the room.

He didn’t even ask if I was okay. Not that I’m fucking surprised. My safety has never really been that high up on his list. As long as I’m breathing and able to work, that’s all he cares about.

Chugging down more of the vodka, I throw my phone onto my bedside table and strip out of my clothes in desperate need of a fucking shower.

I stand under the spray, jets hitting my body at all angles and massaging my aching muscles from being thrown around in my car as we tumbled off the road.

The plaster that Gianna covered the stitches on my head with quickly gets soaked through and begins peeling from my skin. I know I shouldn’t be getting it wet, but fuck it. I’m sure there are worse things I could be doing right now.

Reaching for my shower gel inside the hidden panel on the wall, I stare at the products I bought for Emmie that are still here.

Wrapping my fingers around one of the bottles, I flip the lid and lift it to my nose, breathing the scent in like a fucking pussy.

The palm of my free hand slams down on the tiles beside me in frustration.

My fingers curl around nothing as the ache in my chest that hasn’t eased since I turned my back on her and walked away earlier only gets stronger.

My need to know she’s okay, the ache I feel to pull her into my arms and tell her that I’ll never let anyone touch her again burns through me.

I hang my head low, feeling utterly helpless.

If she’s in her room right now, would her window be open for me?

Did watching me walk away hurt her as much as it did me?

Slamming the bottle back onto the shelf, I force those questions from my head.

She was partying with someone else. If I didn’t turn up when I did, there’s a very good fucking chance things would have gone further than they did.

The thought of her writhing with another guy, letting some other fucker inside her body, makes the beast inside me surge forward faster than I’ve ever experienced before.

Is she going to go running back to him? Does she care that I shot the cunt?