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Her gaze flits over my face as she pulls her hand back, nursing it with her other as her brows pinch together. “Well, then… Now that your bracelet is off, you have free rein again. I need you to complete your second task for me—the Barrett brothers.”

I huff out a breath, grinding my teeth. “And I thought I told you it isn’t going to be as easy as walking into their domain. Unless you want them to kill me.”

“Kill you? Never. But youaregoing to go in there to figure out what the oldest brother knows about Lacee. The Mastersons are related to the Barretts, in case you didn’t know that.”

I didn’t know that, but I’m not about to give her another win. As far as I knew, the Barretts werethehotshots around Reaper many, many years ago. Now? They’re what you call outcasts. The kind of guys who ignore all the rules and make their own. I hate them, but I also hold a level of respect toward them. They’re free from the elites of Reaper—something I’ve always wanted for myself.

“What the hell do you want me to do, exactly? It’s not like they’re going to just let me waltz in there and start asking questions about their murdered… whatever she is to them.”

She smirks. “No, I don’t expect that to happen.” She throws me a set of keys, adding, “You’re going to drive that car over and ask for a race. The bet isn’t titles this time. Tell them if you win, you get ten minutes of Beau Barretts’ time. You can thank me later.”

I look down and see a set of Nissan keys in my hand, but I have no idea what model. This bitch must be absolutely crazy! “I’ve never driven this car before. How do I know I’ll win? And why would I want ten minutes with that sadistic motherfucker?”

“First off, I know you’ll win because one of my officers impounded that car last month. He broke up a racing ring in San Francisco—it was owned by Takumo Nakajima.”

Jesus, fuck. Takumo Nakajima? He’s the top driver for the Japanese Cartel. Yeah, she has my attention now.

“And second, you’ll want to talk with Beau because he’s your only way into the Barretts’ good graces. Gain his respect, and you’re in like Flynn.”

“Oh, that’s all?” I ask sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“It’s really simple. And if you want to sweeten the deal, bring Billie along. The Barretts enjoy some eye candy… ya know, for distraction.”

I grind my teeth, unwilling to let those fuckers lay an eye on Billie. She’s mine—ours—and I won’t let them near her. But I don’t tell Dana this. I’ll do as she wants, hoping like hell I’m not the one showing up murdered next.

Chapter 17

BILLIE LUCAS

MythroatfeelslikeI drank a cup of sand and no amount of clearing my throat makes it go away and forget about swallowing. It hurts so badly, and even though the glass of water on the nightstand next to Christian’s bed looks inviting, I know it’ll only hurt worse.

“You okay?”

I jump from the sound of Zeke’s voice as he gently places his hand on my hip from behind me. Where the hell did he come from? Scare me half to death, why doesn’t he?!

“Fine,” I reply, but my voice comes out rough like I’m battling a bout of bronchitis at the moment. It feels like it, too.

“I know you probably don’t feel the greatest, but you should really try to drink some water. There’s nothing like being dehydrated when you’re sick.”

My brows furrow as I look back at him. “I’m sick?” I rasp out.

His dark gaze dances over my face before he shoves his dark hair from his brow. “We think someone drugged you at the gala. Christian had to pump your stomach.”

I swallow, whimpering when it hurts so fucking bad. Who would drug me? Was anyone else drugged? I think about the event and how Lacee’s body was displayed for everyone to see. Did my drugging have anything to do with that?

“Wh-who drugged me?” I ask, but my voice cracks and I reach up to touch the outside of my throat, hoping that will help to make me feel better.

“Shh, Billie, don’t make it worse. We don’t know anything at all right now. Christian’s out trying to find some answers, but I haven’t heard from him for a few hours.”

I look at the clock, seeing that it’s early afternoon. Man, I must have needed the sleep or the drugs really kicked in. I’ve never slept this late in my life. But I don’t think about that when I refer to what Zeke just said—Christian’s out trying to find answers? He’s under house arrest, though.

“Dana came and took off his bracelet two days ago. You’ve been sleeping all weekend, Billie.”

The color drains from my face as I sit up, feeling as if I’m still under the effects of the drugs. But I know I’m sober as a church mouse. Who wouldn’t be after sleeping away their entire weekend? Why the hell have I been out this long?

“Pumping your stomach takes a lot out of your body. We let you sleep through most of the pain.”

I snort, rubbing the outside of my throat again as I look around Christian’s room. My bright red dress drapes across his gamer chair, a flush creeping into my cheeks as my gaze whips down to find one of Christian’s tees on me. I still have my panties on, though nothing else. And I hate they saw me fully naked for the first time while I was unconscious.

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