Page 80 of Wilde and Deadly

“Yeah,” Davey muttered, dropping back into the chair. “Fuck.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Elliot’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Who did this?”

“We don’t know yet,” Jude said, his voice low and dangerous. “But we will.”

“And when we do,” Dom added, his usual cheerful tone replaced by something cold and sharp, “they’re going to wish they’d never been born.”

Elliot nodded, his eyes hardening. “Good. I want in on that.”

“No,” Libby said sharply. “You’re staying right here until the doctors clear you, and then you’re going home and resting.”

Elliot groaned. “Mom, I’m fine. If anyone should rest, it should be Davey.” His gaze slid toward Davey. “You look like hell.”

Davey huffed. “Yeah, well. You tried to die on me, asshole.”

Elliot’s eyes softened. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me. You pissed me off.”

Elliot gave a weak chuckle but winced. “Liar. You were terrified.”

Davey’s jaw flexed. The humor was vintage Elliot, but his voice was thin. Tired. He hated this—being weak, being stuck in a hospital bed, being the one who needed looking after.

Davey hated it more.

The memory of finding Elliot on the floor, convulsing on the floor, foam at his lips as he turned blue—it slammed into Davey like a physical blow. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms.

“Yeah,” he said roughly. “I was fucking terrified.”

Elliot’s eyes widened slightly at the raw admission. He reached out, gripping Davey’s forearm with surprising strength given his weakened state. “Hey. I’m okay. Really.”

Davey nodded tightly, not trusting himself to speak. The room felt too small suddenly, the walls closing in. He needed air. Needed to move. To do something.

“I’m gonna… go touch base with the team, come up with a plan.” Davey stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the linoleum floor. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Davey—” Elliot started, but he was already striding toward the door. He couldn’t stay in that room with his worried parents and angry brothers for a moment longer.

The new safe house wasn’t as nice as the last one—just a forgettable apartment in a forgettable building, tucked away in a part of the city where no one would ask questions. The furniture was basic, the lighting dim, and the air held the lingering scent of fresh paint, like the place had been renovated just enough to looklived inwithout actually beinghometo anyone.

But it would do.

For now.

Rowan sat on the arm of the couch, rubbing at the tension in her temples as the others moved around her, voices overlapping—low, urgent. They had regrouped, pulled what was left of the team together after Elliot had been stabilized. The poisoning had shaken all of them, but Davey?

Davey wasfurious.

And he wasgone.

Not in the sense that he’d left—no, he was here, somewhere in this apartment. But she knew thatlookhe’d had when they arrived. The way his jaw had been clenched so tight it could’ve cracked. The way his shoulders had been coiled with too much tension. The way he’d barely said a word before slipping away, needing space before he detonated.

She exhaled, pushing off the couch. She scanned the apartment, searching for any sign of Davey, but he wasn’t in the main living area or either of the bedrooms. The tension in her chest tightened.

Across the room, Dominic leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, expression uncharacteristically serious as he listened to something Liam was saying. He caught her looking and tipped his chin toward her. “Looking for our fearless leader?”

She stopped, hesitating for a beat before nodding.

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