Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,333

instinct was to grab the pepper spray?”

He shrugs.

I take the items from him, draping the jacket across her chest. It’s too cold at this time of the morning for a girl wearing sprayed on shorts and a tank top in September. “Daisy, I’m going to free your wrists by cutting the zip-tie. I won’t hurt you. Do you understand?”

She nods lethargically, moaning in relief as I swiftly cut her free. “I’m going to help you move your arms. Your shoulders might hurt. I’m sorry if you are in pain. Can you move them yourself?”

“Yeeeah.” She slowly drags them around to the front of her body with little help from me. “Better,” she sighs, falling against my chest. “Tired.” She puffs her cheeks up, blowing out air.

“Dai—”

“Who’s Daisy? I’m Queeeen-iee. Queen-ieee. Not Dai-see.”

“Dai—”

She pokes me in the chest. “Quee-nieee. Jussh like the tav-ern.

“Okay, Queenie. I think you got drugged.”

“Do you take aall the girls to a dumpster after giving them orgas—?”

Hemsworth clears his throat.

I ignore the silly question because I know the chemical in her is messing with her mind. She’s a sexy, intelligent woman. “Does any part of your body feel sore or broken?” I don’t want to move her until I understand if she’s badly hurt.

The good thing: Queenie’s clothes are still on. The bad thing: It doesn’t lessen my fears she could have been subjected to sexual, physical abuse.

With her face still plastered against my chest, she moves her arms and hands like they are wet noodles in a stiff breeze.

“All in working order, boss.”

I’m still not ruling out rape. Whoever did this to Queenie wanted the message sent loud and clear: she is disposable.

“Queenie, honey, can you open your eyes for me?”

The struggle is real.

“So tired.”

“That’s okay, honey. I’ll get you out of here.”

“I remember.”

“What do you remember?”

“Two men. Needle… thingie… in… neck. Cold. Need…shower. Stinky.”

“Queenie, I’m going to get you out of here now.” More slow nodding.

“Hemsworth, we need to get her to a hospital.”

“Sir!”

“Can it wait until we get Queenie out of here?”

“No, there’s an envelope stuck to the outside of the dumpster we missed. It’s addressed to Lorenzo Rossi.”

Through my rage, I snap out, “Read it.”

Hemsworth goes quiet. Then he’s cursing like a sailor.

“Tell me,” I order.

“Blake (Hemsworth dislikes the fact I’ve not given Queenie my real name), in short, the letter reads no police to be involved. I would prefer you to read it for yourself.” I hear the tap-tap of his phone and then the ping of a response.

“Hemsworth—?”

“As we speak, trusted friends of mine have agreed to come to our aide. He and his wife are on their way now to assist your lady friend, and they will offer great assistance with the contents of the envelope.” Shit, that bad. “Blake, we should get the young lady inside. Fern, who has studied medicine and is a qualified doctor, will be able to examine her to see for any signs she has been—”

“Good.” I cut my driver/friend off, not wanting Queenie to hear the rest of that sentence.

I know the old guy has his contacts, and I trust Hemsworth’s people if he does. He’s loyal to a fault, and he knows how to keep secrets. He was once the family butler, but I see no need for the extravagance, so I gave him a job as my driver and ‘gopher.’

I help Queenie into my jacket. It wraps around her lean frame like a blanket, reaching down to her knees.

“Hemsworth, I need you to swap places with me.”

“I’m coming down, sir.” At least I am back to ‘sir.’ He lands gracefully for a sixty-eight-year-old without hurting himself, trash bags crunching under his lean weight.

“Sweetheart, wrap your arm around my neck and hold on best you can?”

I help guide her arm into place, then slide my arms under her bare legs. “Now, don’t let go, Queenie.”

She nods, her head lolling as I stand with her curled up in my arms. She weighs less than a postage stamp. “Good girl. I’m now going to pass you over to Hemsworth, who will take good care of you while I climb back out of the dumpster, and then he’s going to pass you to me. Do you understand?”

Queenie forces her eyes open. “Hems…worth. Cool name.” She releases a silly giggle. She is so wasted, but it’s better than crying. “George… Clooney. Handsome… old guy.”

“Whatever works for you. If you think of him as George Clooney, I am sure Hemsworth is flattered.” More slow nodding. “Heeey, George.”

Fuck, how