Page 16 of Sean Collins

Elora blinks, giving me a small smile. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“What about coming to my place and letting me sort this out with you?”

She shakes her head, and my gut clenches. “No, I need to see my team and figure out the best way to approach this matter and fact-check all that we just heard.”

“Okay, how about we stop at your place, get what you need, and then you come to my place?”

Her eyes narrow at me. “S.C., what is really going on?” she asks suspiciously.

I sigh and grip the steering wheel harder. “I can’t let you out of my sight, Elora. You can’t go after the Russians yourself. It will put my people in danger, and I can’t have that.”

She looks at me for a long moment before nodding. “Okay, drive me to my place; I’ll just get a few things.”

I sigh in relief. It looks like Elora will allow me to help her, after all.

*****

“What in the actual fuck?” I sit up and immediately regret it as my stomach revolts. My head is pounding; it feels like I have gone three rounds with the champ.

Holding my head and laying back down, hoping my stomach settles, I run my tongue over my teeth and curse again. The familiar metallic taste greets me, and my stomach revolts again.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been drugged, and I recognize all the signs. Elora was just pretending to cooperate, and I let my feelings convince me that she wouldn’t betray me like this.

Stumbling off the couch and into the kitchen, I rip open a cabinet and take out a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers. I swallow five pills before stumbling to the sink and putting my head underneath it. I can do nothing but wait for the drugs to wear off.

Elora holed herself up in the office, and I could hear her talking to someone as I made a stir fry for our dinner. We fucked on the couch like rabbits afterward. She must have drugged me when I fell asleep. When I walk into the office, though, I’m surprised to see her laptop on the desk.

As soon as I bring it to life, a message pops up.

ELIZA: How did it go?

The message was sent hours ago. I respond, my fingers flying over the keys.

ELORA: This is S.C.; she hasn’t returned yet. You need to tell me where she is because the Russians don’t play. We will be lucky if she isn’t already dead.

ELIZA: She won’t trust you. We dug up information that your father was involved in the hit.

I sit back in the chair as if I have been sucker-punched. I was worried about this. I hadn’t let the thought fully form in my mind. When my father ran the club, it was a true outlaw MC. We had our fingers in so many illegal pies that I still don’t think I know all of his dealings. He would have done anything to keep anyone from having his profits cut into. He died around the time that Elora’s parents did.Did he really administer the hit?

ELORA: Look, I know that she might not trust me, but I am the only one who can help her now. Tell me where she is, or I swear I will find you if Elora ends up dead.

ELIZA: You really do care for her, don’t you? Okay, here are the coordinates. Good luck.

I take a picture of the screen with my phone and grab my bike keys. I have no choice but to go after her and call in backup.

Texting the coordinates and the SOS signal to my club members, I stride out of the house and hop on my bike. I hope I am not leading my guys to their deaths.

Chapter Nineteen

Elora

I shiver in the cold as I look at the compound where Mikhail stays. He has a lot of enemies, so he has decided to barricade himself in this place. The patrols seemed to be irregular, sometimes happening every ten minutes, then five, then six. My legs cramp. It’s getting late, and I have been out here for too long. If I am going to do something, I need to do it soon.

Watching the guards pass my location, I slip a hand into my pocket. Pulling the snowflake-looking tool out, I throw it at the balcony on the third floor. The magnets stick tight, and I press a button, allowing it to haul me up and over the balcony silently. Once I land, I unstick the magnet and reel in the cord, turning to the French doors in front of me.

After that, I bring out what looks like a fancy pen and press down on it. A concentrated electric pulse knocks out the security system in this area. Then, I slowly creep in the door and sigh in relief as I find myself in an empty library.

Walking soundlessly across the wooden floor, I put my ear against the doors and listen. At this time of night, everyone should be in bed. When I am certain that no one is in the hallway, I sneak out and see a set of ornate double doors, more elegant than the others I’ve seen, at the end. It looks just like the place for an arrogant Russian to lay his head at night.

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