“Yes,” he says in a low snarl.
I release him, thrusting him away from me. He finds his footing, circles his shoulders, and eyes me cautiously as he reaches out to hit the down button on the elevator.
“Is everything okay?” the guard asks.
Darby slaps a hand against the wall and sniffs bitterly. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re fired.”
The doors slide open. I don’t look at the guard. Usually, when an asshole like Darby fires someone, I’ll figure out a way to hire that person. In this case, the security guard pretended not to see a rape in progress just to keep his job. He deserves to be canned.
We’re riding down to the first floor of the penthouse. I’m glaring at Darby’s image on the steel walls in front of us. I want to rip his head off. The thought of something bad happening to Paisley enrages me at an irrational level. I’m aware that she’s only here because I laid it on thick in the hallway. I wanted her here. She was supposed to be mine tonight. And O’Brien, the fucker, plucked her away from me. I swear, if he’s fucking her against her will—I clench my fists—I’ll kill him.
“I thought you didn’t like the Groves,” Darby bitches.
I bite down on my back teeth, steadying my anger. It’s all I can do to stop myself from ripping his head off for saying that.Fucking prep school jerks go so far. I never asked any of them to choose sides—not for me, at least. My brothers set the rules about how anyone with the last name Grove should be treated long before I arrived at Dorset Meacham Academy.
I’m staring at the gold-plated wall in front of me. I can’t focus on shit, though. All I see is red. “You’d just better hope your friend doesn’t have his dick in her.” Thinking about what she might be experiencing right now makes me want to break something. Between my brothers and me, I’m the most measured, but if someone fucks with me or anybody I care about, I become hell on earth.
The doors slide open, and Darby shoots out like he’s afraid I’m going to toss him out. If he hadn’t moved fast enough, I would have. I’m following him down a hallway that looks like it’s part of a museum. We’re passing nude statues encased in glass. Marble tits and dicks on display makes the moment worse.
Then I can hear her groaning and mumbling words I can’t decipher. I see the door. Thank God, the fucker was too eager to close it. I’ve already pushed Darby out of the way, and when I run inside the room, Paisley’s on the bed and O’Brien’s on top of her, holding her down while struggling to push down her pants.
“What the fuck!” I roar.
O’Brien quickly turns to look at me at the perfect time. My fist meets his face, and he flies off of her and then rolls off the bed, crying and holding his nose.
Paisley squirms on the bed. She’s in an odd state of being alert while out of it. “Dad, Max, help me,” she slurs. “Mom…”
I don’t think. I sweep her up in my arms, adrenaline pumping. She’s as light as a feather.
“What did you give her?” I shout at O’Brien.
Blood streams down his lips and covers his hands. “You broke my nose!”
I won’t put Paisley down. She’s safest in my arms. And he should thank his lucky stars that my hands are occupied and not pounding the hell out of his face.
“What the fuck did you give her?” I shout louder. “You’d better fucking answer me, or I’m going to send the fucking cops to upend your fucking party.”
I’m spitting. I’m enraged, but Paisley wraps her arms around my neck, and my anger starts to melt like butter.
“Pinkies,” O’Brien whimpers as he manages the blood flowing from his nose.
I look at Darby, who’s standing still, petrified that I’ll turn my wrath on him. Giving him what he deserves isn’t my priority at the moment. Paisley is.
“We need to get out of here without being seen. Make that happen.” I’m surprised by how much I sound like Achilles.
Darby doesn’t say anything. Head hanging, he scampers out of the room, and I know to follow him.
“I’m sorry about this, and, um…” Darby says as he anxiously rubs the back of his neck.
“You don’t need to apologize tome,” I say. His ass is grass, and he knows it.
“He wasn’t going to go all the way with her. We were just having a little—"
I don’t want to hear the rest. “You’d better be glad my hands are occupied, or they’d be beating the shit out of you right now.” Darby’s not a small guy, but neither am I.
“Where am I?” Paisley whispers. She’s groaning, and her head is bouncing against my shoulder like it’s hard for her to find a comfortable position and stick with it.
Her face is prettier up close, though, and for a moment, I’m mesmerized by her features and the sweet scent of her breath. “It’s me, Hercules. I’m going to get you some fresh air.”
