Vidal! (Snakes Henchmen MC 6)

Adrenaline is a powerful thing when you know how to use it the right way.

“Now, why don't you tell me exactly what your psychotic mother did to my daughter.”

“They're really your kids?” I can hear the wheeze in his voice as he speaks. Broken ribs, fucked lungs. Painful as fuck.

“They're really my kids. We were only waiting for their mother to come home to us.”

He snorts and shakes his head, the head he can hardly hold up. We can fix that for him. Jimmy grabs the front of his hair and pulls his head up. Good, I like to look into the eyes of a man before I kill him.

“It's fucking sick that I had to marry her. She didn't belong to me.” He says more to himself than to me. “I didn't know... about the kid's... about you. Didn't tell me... He lied. I'm sorry.” He all but whispers to himself. I don't know whom he's saying sorry to, and I don't really give a fuck. I just want to know... “Poison. The kid is slowly being poisoned.”

Fuck!

“How? Tell me, fucker!”

He shakes his head, eyes rolling, and my fucking phone is going off yet again! I rip the knife from my belt and slash the motherfucker across the forehead. Blood gushes into his eyes and down his nose and into his mouth. Cutting the forehead won't kill a man right away, but he'll bleed out and probably die slowly. Must hurt like hell feeling so weak, losing all that blood and not being able to fight your way to safety.

“Tell me what you know, and I'll put you out of your misery.”

“I... don't know... didn't say.”

This is getting me nowhere! I grab his face, slapping his cheek over and over. “Wake up, motherfucker!” I know this is as good as useless, the man's fading before my eyes. I grab his face in my fist and squeeze. “I know she told you. Tell me what she did to my daughter.”

“Bear.” Is all he says over and over. What the fuck does that even mean?

Goddammit!

I pull away from Paul and snatch my phone out of my pocket. The constant ringing is driving me insane! I'm fucking busy cleaning house here! It's my own damn fault; I should've turned it off. The only reason I didn't was in case the hospital called.

Fuck! I'm a stupid fuck, what if they've been trying to call me all this time?

“What?!” I yell down the phone at whoever is on the other end of the line.

“Draven,” The voice, Brooke's, is a scared crack of a hitch. “Where are you?”

“Busy with trash. Why?” I twirl the knife in my hand, watching the shine of the metal and my reflection within it. My brother smirks at me. He knows I'm an evil fucker, and he likes it.

“I've been calling for hours. God, Draven,” The tone of her voice is startling to me.

“What it is, Brooke?” My eyes dart to Paul. The sinking feeling in my stomach is all consuming. I have a horrible feeling this is about Lydia. My heart is beating right out of my fucking chest cavity!

“It's Lydia.” My eyes close. Fuck! “She's so ill, Draven. She's burning up and asking for you. Please, whatever you're doing, stop and come home. Nothing is more important than this.”

She's right, there is nothing more important than my family, isn't that why I did all of this? I have to get to Lydia. I have to make sure she's okay. Fuck, I need to get her to the hospital, I need her checked over. If what these fucks have told me is true, my daughter has been ingesting poison for three fucking weeks!

“I'm on my way.” I shove my phone in my pocket, pull out my gun, pop every damn cap in that gun inside Paul Simpson, and tell my men, “Clean this mess up. You know what to do.” Lorenzo nods. “Tony. Get me to Brooke's as fast as you can.” Like right now!

“Boss.”

“What's going on, Dray?”

I shake my head at Hammer. “Something's wrong with Lydia. I have to go to her.”

“I know you're worried, but you can't go to her looking like this.” I look down at myself and sigh. I have splatters of blood all over me, Paul's blood, no to mention gunpowder residue.

“Here,” I narrow my eyes and take the bag Tank handed me. “You didn't think I'd come unprepared, did you?” He chuckles. “Go to the bathroom and get changed. I had Jimmy grab one of your suits and bring it here.” I clasp his shoulder in thanks and leave the room to get changed.

I always have a change of clothes with me in the car. Not that I'd point it out to Tank, the man thought he was doing a good thing.

I'm cleaned up and changed in less than ten minutes. My need to get to my daughter outweighed the need for anything else.

I'm coming, baby girl. Daddy is coming. Please be all right. Please, God, keep her safe. Keep them all safe.

Chapter Thirty-One

Marnie

I feel numb. My room is dark but for a dim light above my bed. I can't feel my body, I feel like I'm strapped down, but I'm not. I know I'm not because I can see that I'm not. I'm also alone. Why am I alone? Where's Draven?

I lift my head. Well, slightly because I can't move very well. I groan. I can feel pain coursing through my whole body. What the hell happened to me? I remember sitting on my bed and my little girl calling Jett to come over, but there's nothing after that.

The door opens, and a young nurse walks in. She's halfway to the bed when she notices me awake. “Mrs. Vidal, you're awake!” Way to state the obvious. “I'm just going to get the doctor.” She's gone before I can ask her what I'm doing here.

The next hour is spent with a doctor prodding and poking me, asking me questions that I don't know the answers to. I try to answer him as best I can, but my throat feels so dry my lips keep sticking together.

All I want is Draven. I need him to tell me what the hell happened! I know the doctor told me that someone injected me with something that caused me to give birth early, that I have twin boys who are in the NICU. Yeah, that killed me, I haven't stopped crying since, but I can't make sense of any of it. No one injected me with anything. I would have remembered something like that!

Maybe my brain has shut it all out. Perhaps someone did hurt me, and I just can't remember it happening. I just don't know!

What about my litt

le girl's? Where are they?

Why am I alone?

I've been here for three weeks, the doctor said. My twin boys – yeah, that will take some getting used to – are three weeks old already. I've missed three weeks of their lives! The doctor also said that I'd fallen into a deep coma and they couldn't figure out why when there was nothing wrong that would force me into such a thing. He said it as if I'd know the damn answer. How the hell would I know why it happened, I'm not a fucking neurosurgeon!

He did say that it will take a while for me to be up and about as normal because my muscles haven't been getting the workout they need, which means I'll need to strengthen them. That means it's going to be painful for a while. I can handle it though, whatever it takes to get back to being me.

“Where's my husband?” I force out because I can't speak without a croak in my voice.

“We've called him. He'll be here very soon.”

I nod and close my eyes. I just want to see him; I need him to explain all of this to me. I need him to tell me that my babies are okay, all four of them.

Four. Twin girls, and Twin boys. How did we not know there were two in there? What are their names? Okay, Luka. We decided on Luka if we had a boy, but what name has Draven given our other son?

My mind drifts on the side of sleepiness. I'm not going to be able to stay awake much longer. How is it normal to fall asleep when you've slept for three weeks? However, I do fall asleep. While there, I dream about my children. I dream about taking them home and loving them like only I can.

I hope Draven told the boys about me. I hope he told them that I love them because I do, so very much.

God, my head is banging, even in sleep, it's banging. It's like my mind is trying to tell me something, but what?

Then it all comes back to me like a bolt of lighting to my brain, that day in town with Lydia and Amber. Paul's mother bumped into me, and I scratched my arm on the buckle on her bag. Lydia dropped her bear, Paul's mother picked it up and held it for a moment, making a big thing of getting a tissue out of her bag and wiping the bears stomach, 'I'll get the dirt, don't worry,' There was a smirk on her face as mine contorted in anger. I didn't want her near my baby girl.