Sylan’s [POV]
Drake nods. “And Katriona?” Drake draws on his whiskey as he raises his big frame to stand beside me.
I stretch my neck until I hear a pop-pop. Tension releases immediately but the relief is only temporary. “Bring her back and we might as well hand her over to the feds ourselves. They’re watching. They’ll try to put her into witness protection.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“It won’t be long before they tie her to her father anyway. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Not until the bastard is rotting will she be okay. Until then we stay way.”
Drake drains his drink and slams to glass down on the desk. He props an arm over the back of the chair looking as relaxed as a cobra with his neck flared.
“Not happening. I’ll go it alone before I leave her completely defense
