I carried Delilah. She was unconscious in my arms. I stepped over the fallen body of the man and made my way out of that hellhole. Caine limped behind me. His steps were slow, but he was determined.
I placed Delilah in the backseat of the taxi. I made sure her head was secure before shutting the door. Caine slumped into the passenger seat. She groaned as he settled in.
The drive back was silent. I kept looking at Delilah. She hadn’t moved once.
When we finally reached the house, I carried her inside and laid her on the couch. Caine collapsed into the nearest chair, he exhaled sharply.
I crouched beside Delilah. I tightened my jaw. She was still out cold, and I needed to wake her up. The usual methods wouldn’t work—not with whatever drug they’d used on her.
I took a slow breath; I roll
