“She… drank… too… much… Helping… her…” he gasps out.
“She hasn’t had anything to drink. What the fuck did you slip her?” I growl.
He sputters, turning red. I loosen my grip so he can answer.
“Nothing,” he rasps.
I throw him against the table and punch his face. I feel the satisfying crunch of bone, breaking his nose. Blood spurts, and I ask him again. “What the fuck did you give her? Don’t make me ask you again.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” he spits out. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Try me. What the fuck did you drug her with?” I reel back to hit him again but freeze when he glances over my shoulder with hope in his eyes.
“Help me! He’s crazy! He’s killing me!”
I turn and see Drew along with a few other security personnel behind him.
“Need help, boss?” Drew asks, cracking his knuckles.
“He drugged my girl. I need to know with what,” I say without breaking eye contact with Leo. I punch him again.
“Boss? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” he asks in disbelief.
“I’m Roman Montclair. Now tell me what you slipped in her drink if you want to walk out of here alive,” I grit out.
He pales, and his eyes widen.Interesting. He knows my name.
“It was just a little roofie. GHB. She’ll be fine,” he defends himself.
I roar and hit him again. Twice more.
Then I throw the filth at Drew.
“Take him to a warehouse. Text me which one. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
I turn away, knowing if I look at him again, I’ll kill him. I face the girls and note that Cecilia’s almost completely passed out and didn’t witness any of the confrontation.
I look at Gracie, scared she’ll be terrified of me. That she won’t want me helping her with Cecilia. Which isn’t going tofucking happen. Nothing’s standing in my way of helping her. But it’d be a lot easier if Gracie accepts me.
But instead of facing me with horror, Gracie holds respect for me in her eyes.
“I can’t carry her. I need your help,” she mutters, strained from holding Cecilia’s weight for this long.
I gently lift Cecilia into my arms, cradling her to my chest. I start walking, careful of the fragile, precious goods in my arms.
“Come with me,” I instruct.
Gracie follows without question.
We walk down a hallway in the back and into the main office. I don’t use it often, but it’s here for when we need it. I head to the adjoining bathroom and sit down on the floor with Cecilia in my lap.
I stick my fingers down her throat until she gags. Thankfully, her reflex is weak, and she starts heaving quickly. I lean her over the toilet as she empties her stomach. I hold her hair and rub her back.
She starts to gain consciousness during the process and tears fall from her eyes. She begs me to stop, and it breaks my heart, but I can’t.
“I’m sorry, sunshine. We have to get it out of you,” I beg her to understand.
Gracie grabs a washcloth, runs it under cool water, and places it on Cecilia’s neck. She then looks away but stays in the bathroom. Clearly the situation is hurting her, but she won’t abandon her friend. I find myself respecting this woman more and more with each passing moment.
