lowlifes. So I stayed and watched like the creep she’d accused me of being.
They went to the bar and ordered drinks. Three glasses were delivered—two with amber liquid and one with clear. At least she was still smart enough to stay sober.
Hand tats told some kind of joke, getting her full attention as they all laughed. While she was facing him, ponytail reached into his pocket and dumped something into her drink.
I pushed off the wall, my hands tightening into fists. What the fuck? Did no one else see that?
Of course fucking not. Everyone here was too drunk or high, too wrapped up in their own shit. Before I could bulldoze my way through the crowd and stop her, they cheersed, and she gulped down most of her drink in one go. I had no idea what they’d given her, but I wasn’t sure I could take them both. I just knew I couldn’t let her out of my sight, couldn’t let them take her from here.
This was none of my business—I’d been heading out the door anyway—and Donna was a bitch, but she didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this.
So I hung around for a little while and watched.
She stumbled over her own feet while standing still, and hand tats steadied her before sharing a grin with ponytail. My vision went red, thoughts of tearing the fuckers to pieces assaulting my mind. But I had to keep my shit together.
Keeping Donna in my periphery, I scanned the crowd and spotted Shady at the end of the bar area. I beelined for him, bumping into drunks and bikers as I went. Donna was leaning heavily on the bar now with her head in her hands, while the two men hovered like the predators they were.
“Shady.” I interrupted his conversation with a smack on the shoulder, barely sparing him a glance.
“Hendy, bro, I’m in the middle of some business here,” he ground out.
I grabbed him by the collar of his tracksuit and leaned in close. “Some pieces of shit just drugged Donna. I can’t take them alone. Come on, man.”
I wasn’t above begging, but I hoped the asshole’s humanity would kick in before I had to.
Shady got to his feet and excused himself from the conversation he’d been having, ordering another round of expensive whiskey and stating he’d be right back after he took out the trash. Then he gestured to two of his buddies.
I kept my focus on Donna. Her feet started falling out from under her, and the two scum propped her up on either side and started helping her stumble toward the exit.
I rushed toward them, no longer caring if I had to take the two of them alone, no longer caring if I had to take twenty.
We cut them off barely ten feet from the door.
“Let her go,” I growled, already reaching for her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, then focused, then rolled again.
“Back off, asshole.” Ponytail scowled. He was even uglier up close.
“Hen . . . hel . . . h . . . ,” Donna mumbled. Was she trying to say my name or “help”? It didn’t matter. She was getting both.
Shady and his guys finally caught up. They didn’t ask questions. They simply shoved the two shit stains out of the way as I stepped in and wrapped my arms around Donna. As I held her delicate frame against my chest, her legs gave out, her arms went completely limp, and her head rolled back.
Panic choked me; the shriveled thing in my chest passing for a heart constricted, then started hammering.
I scooped her up and pushed the door open with my shoulder. All I knew was that I had to get her out of there. Maybe to a hospital.
Shady caught up with me halfway to my car.
“How’s she doin?’” He brushed some hair off her forehead. Lucky for him, both my hands were busy holding the unconscious waif of a girl.
“I don’t know,” I growled. “What the fuck did they give her?”
“Just a roofie.”
This time I growled but no words came out. Just a roofie?
Shady gave me a sharp look as we stopped at my Tesla. “Chill, bro. She won’t remember shit in the morning, but she’ll be fine. They were trying to knock her out, not kill her. Rohypnol is a benzo—it’s like she’s taken a couple of xannies. It’s not gonna kill her or anything.”
In place of an answer, I gave him an instruction. “Get the door.”