Page 96 of Savage Empire

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Apollo

There have been times, few and far between as they were, that fear had come for me. Being a victim of fear is not something that I consider myself accustomed to. At a young age, fear became an emotion that I used to inflict harm on others. I knew fear. I worked with it, honed it and wielded it like a weapon as sharp and as lethal as any blade.

Today, fear didn’t find me. Something much stronger took its place instead. Today, I’d come to knowterrormore than I ever expected to.

“What did you just say?” I ask, voice hard and lost as I blindly reach for my keys. My phone is pressed firmly against my ear, my brother’s rushed words racing through my mind.

My stomach is in knots like I’d eaten something rotten, and my chest feels like it might cave in. I knew exactly what was just reported to me, but I couldn’t accept it. It was an unacceptable reality that I refused to face without hearing it again.

The desire to cling to disbelief is quietly squashed.

“Yordan was shot,” Cassio repeats, louder and slower. “He’s losing a lot of blood, but we’ve got him and we’re on our way to the hospital. We’re almost there.”

“How the fuck did this happen?” I demand in a bark, storming out of my office. “I leave him alone for a day, surrounded by guards and three of my brothers, at a fucking fundraiser for an orphanage, and he’s beenshot?”

Rayna’s going to kill me.

I’m going to let her.

Yordan Todorov is my responsibility, my seventeen-year-old mentee. My fucking friend. And somehow, he was suffering from a bullet.

Had theBulgarian Mafiyacome for him?Impossible,I shake off the thought. The tip I received about their interest in Rayna and Yordan guaranteed they had no idea where the Todorovs were. They were shit-talking in a bar about revenge, drunk on delusion. It wasn’t a credible threat, Icheckedfor that. The only reason I even told Rayna about it was to further gain her trust. I was including her, and now I was going to lose her.

Any progress made between us is sure to be wiped out now that I failed to do the one thing she asked of me. To keep Yordan safe.

“You can yell about it later,” Cassio growls. “The gunman is dead, and we’ll keep Yordan alive. Elio is going to get Rayna. Just meet us at the Med Center.”

“Fuck,” I snap, hanging up my phone, tempted to throw it forcefully into the wall.

Feeling sick and almost dizzy, I climb into my car and gun it. I don’t think about anything other than getting to the hospital as I drive recklessly. Cars swerve out of my way, red lights don’t stop me, and street lights are a fucking blur. I feel like I might throw up, head pounding and heart aching with guilt.

When I get to the hospital, I don’t bother parking. I pull onto the sidewalk, running over a bush in the process. I know exactly where my brothers would have taken Yordan, and I run in that direction. Workers who see me as a madman rushing through the halls without recognizing my face attempt to slow me down before they’re deterred by those who know better—effectively saving their lives. If anyone stepped in my way right now, I wouldn’t even think about it before snapping their neck.

The white hospital walls and sterile lighting are harsh on my eyes, but I don’t stop scouring until I stumble upon where I’m supposed to be. Catching sight of long black hair, I find Ana and with her, who I need.

“Where is he?” I demand, shouting across the hall to my brother.

He doesn’t need to shout back, because I’m in front of him in a matter of breaths. “He’s with the doctors now, they’re getting him blood and closing him up,” Cassio reports, holding his hands up as if to tell me to calm. He knows damn-well that I will not calm down.

I’m burning up from the inside out, feeling both enraged and helpless. A brutal combination that no one should be subjected to.

Eyes flicking to the side, I find Leon covered in blood, shirt soiled with it as he sits in a waiting room chair. He’s staring blankly at the wall in front of him, eyes unblinking.

“What the fuck happened?”

It’s then that I notice the tears in Ana’s eyes. Ana who refused to cry in front of my family when half of hers was slaughtered. Ana who always maintains a brave face in public.

“How bad is it?” I ask, fists tightening so hard that they shake. “Where was he hit? Tell me he’s not going to die, Cassio.” The request is not pleading, it’s commanding. I refuse to hear anything other than Yordan’s projected recovery.

“He’s not going to die, Apollo,” he insists, voice steady. “He was shot while protecting a little girl.”

I freeze, absorbing the information. “What?”

“Oh, Apollo,” Ana sniffs. “It was awful, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head, not understanding her apology.