Chapter 30

He couldn’t have gotten ten yards when something stung his shoulder. A few more steps and his legs wobbled—his muscles had turned to taffy. Next thing he knew, he was eye-to-eye with the floor—he hadn’t even felt the impact.

Leather tightened on his wrist, and a hand patted his ass. Over the ringing in his ears, a wheezing voice huffed, “Don’t you worry, pretty. I’ve got you now. You’re in for one hell of a hangover, but that’ll be the least of your problems.”

Rafe tried to fight, but a thick, cloying cloud rolled through his mind, dragging him down, down, down. Hot tears filled his eyes as he abandoned his struggle and surrendered to the darkness. 16