Page 17 of Saved By the Rogue

And if the Dogs were well-equipped enough to take them on.

I bound his hands behind his back with a length of wire that was in one of the drawers – probably something Chuck had stashed there to deal with bike problems – and laid the gun on the table before him, planting my hands on either side of it and staring down at Bailey. I could see that he was starting to get woozy, the blood leaking from his shoulder, staining his shirt and flooding his arm.

"Now," I murmured to him. "You want to get to a hospital before you bleed out, you’re going to need to tell me everything you know. You hear me?"

"I’m not telling you shit," he spat at me. I reached over and pushed two fingers into his wound, feeling the flesh give beneath my hand. He groaned with pain, trying to twist away from me, but he was tied too tightly to the chair to allow it.

"I think you’re going to," I told him darkly. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to get information out of someone like this, and if he thought I was going to make this easy for him, he had a whole bunch of other things coming.

"What the fuck do you want to know?" he demanded urgently. He must have known as well as I did that time was ticking down for him – if he didn’t get stitched up soon enough, he was going to wind up dead, and it would be no great loss to this city.

"Who sent you?" I asked. I knew it had to be Lombardi, but this was a test for him – to figure out if he would tell me the truth when I asked for it.

"I have a code of conduct-"

"You’re trying to stalk some innocent girl," I snarled at him. "Code of conduct my ass. You tell me who sent you, or..."

I tapped the gun on the desk in front of me. I would use it again if I had to, I wouldn’t think twice. Working with the Dogs, I’d handled plenty of shit that would have made most people squeamish, and I wasn’t going to let these fuckers throw me off my game.

"I already know who sent you," I told him, leaning forward, lowering my voice. "You just have to say the name. That’s all I’m asking for."

He looked up at me, and the fight drained from his eyes all at once, as though he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Finally, after a long sigh, he gathered himself together for long enough to speak.

"Salina."

I froze.

"What did you say?”

"Salina."

"That’s her name," I replied. He looked up at me.

"I thought you said you knew who did this?”

"Lombardi," I blurted out, thrown enough to give away my trump card. "He’s the one who wanted her-"

Bailey snorted.

"You think he would be able to afford us?" he replied. "No. It’s Salina. Sal Salina. He’s the one who sent us after her. He’s the one who wants her back."

My head was reeling. Her father? Her father had been the one to do this? It didn’t make sense to me, and yet – and yet, everything she had told me about him, maybe it fit.

"Sal Salina sent you," I asked him, repeating that name again, making sure I had heard it right. Because, damn, it didn’t make sense to me. Her father, working with men like this, sending them out strapped up to get her back – he must have been serious about bringing her back under lock and key again.

"That’s what I just fucking said," Bailey groaned. "Is that enough? I need to get to a hospital-"

"Shut the fuck up," I snarled at him. He was lucky I hadn’t finished him off right then and there. But there was more information we could get out of him, I was sure of it.

I undid the binds on his wrists and shoved a helmet against him.

"What the hell is this?"

"I’m taking you to the club doctor," I replied. "You try anything, and I’ll throw you off the bike in the middle of the street. You hear me?”

"What the fuck?" he muttered, pressing his hand into his leaking wound. "No way, I-"

I grabbed the gun again.

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