Page 14 of Savage Little Queen

“I need to talk to him,” I murmured. “OK?”

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “He took you from us. It was hell, wasp. Fucking hell. I won’t let him have you again—”

“Dominic. Listen to me. I love you. I have a headache and feel sick. I need to do this, OK? I need to sleep a little more and get something to eat. How about you and Vinny go get me something downstairs?”

A muscle thrummed along his jaw.

I heard voices in the hall. It sounded like Levin and Fox.

“You got this, B?” Vincent asked.

“Yeah.”

He stepped away from us and went to the door.

“Dom, I’m not going to take her,” Fallon said.

Dominic closed his eyes, his body trembling. “Get him out of here, Bianca.”

I wasn’t going to play these games. I knew how much Dominic and the guys were hurting, but I wasn’t going to back down. We all had a lot of baggage to sort through. Last night had been a nightmare.

I frowned and looked down at myself in the t-shirt that hung to my knees.

“What’s wrong?” Dominic demanded immediately, his hands coming out to hold me at the waist.

“Bianca?” Fallon asked, his chest brushing against my back. “What’s going on? Are you OK?”

“Drake shot me,” I said, frowning. “He fucking shot me!”

Levin and Vincent came into the room just as I moved away from Dominic and Fallon and marched to the door, my anger overshadowing the sickness and aches I had.

“B, where are you going?” Vincent asked as I barged through the doorway.

“To find Drake!”

I was going to punch him in his goddamn face when I found him.

He’d scared me. Made me think he was betraying me. That he didn’t give a shit about me after everything. . .

I stormed down the stairs with the guys on my heels. I didn’t know where the fuck we were or where he was, but I’d find him.

I made a left and entered a living room where Drake was sitting with a pretty redhead, the horsemen, some guy I didn’t know, and Trent.

My anger soared when Drake got to his feet.

All conversation stopped.

“Wasp—” Dominic’s words were drowned out by the sound of my fist colliding with Drake’s face with a loud crack.

His head snapped to the side before I rammed my knee up and caught him in the balls.

“Fuck,” he choked out, falling to his knees and grabbing himself.

I reached out and fisted his hair and pulled his head back so he was looking up at me, his nose bleeding and lip split.

“You son of a bitch,” I snarled at him. “I trusted you.”

He stared up at me, his chest heaving. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

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