Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(19)

Charlie leans back and smirks before the waiter magically returns.

I swear he’s zeroed in on Charlie. As soon as her glass is empty, he happens to reappear. I hold back my growl and glare at him. There’s something about this guy. He rushes to the other side of the room as she gulps the drink. “Wow, these drinks are amazing. Want one?” she asks.

“Were you drinking water shots with the mobster?” I joke, but I’m really curious because she’s hammered.

“This one time, I was dating this guy, even though I don’t really ever date,” she rambles. “I mean, I could date, but I disappear a lot. Apparently, guys don’t really like being number two in a woman’s world. Anyway, he was trying to convince me that he was better at shooting because he grew up hunting. I remember laughing in his face, which of course didn’t bode well for his teeny tiny ego.” She holds up her fingers as if she’s pinching. “Which wasn’t the only thing teeny tiny.” Charlie nudges my side with her elbow. “If you know what I mean.”

She’s f*cking adorable. And toasted. I need to get her to the car before she starts really talking.

“Anyway, he didn’t know I’m a, you know . . .” She starts to tilt but I grab her.

“Okay, no more talking.” I grab a water bottle and shove it in her face. “Drink.”

“Bossy prick.”

“Just drink.”

She had about four flutes of champagne, but there’s no way that would make her this drunk this fast.

“Mark,” she murmurs. “I’m sleepy.”

I remove the drink from her hand and sniff, but I can’t tell a difference. However, with her loss of motor skills and the way she’s slurring, this isn’t just champagne. It hits me like a ton of bricks. “You’re drugged. We need to get out of here. Hold on, don’t let go of me.” She wraps her arms around my waist and I start to walk with her.

I look around for that waiter now, but he’s missing. What the f*ck did they put in her drink? It could be anything. She could be out for hours or for days. I have no idea which drug they used or how much.

Anger flows through me as I peer at her slumping form. Once I find out who was responsible for drugging her, we’re going to get a lot of answers. Someone’s head is going to roll.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” she slurs.

I stop and turn her so she’s looking at me. “Stay awake, Charlie. You need to stay awake. Okay?”

“Okay, then I can nap.”

“Yes, then you can nap.” I give her a fake smile and pull her tight as we begin to walk. Each time she slips, I fight the urge to haul her in my arms where she’ll be safe, but that would draw too much attention. So I hold her against my side and keep her moving.

Of course, as luck would have it, her mother notices me hauling her drugged CIA daughter.

This is going to be a shit show.

“Mother!” Charlie perks up as she lets go of me. She bumps into a chair as she walks over. “You look ravishing. Did I ever tell you about that time?” She starts to slump a little and I pull her tight against me.

“Charlie,” her mother cuts her off. She says her name but shifts her gaze to me, then back to Charlie. “Darling, you don’t look so well.”

“I’m great!” She giggles.

“Mr. Dixon?” She addresses me with questions in her eyes.

“There was a waiter. He was feeding her drinks. And she’s not feeling well.” I hope she understands.

“Of course, she would drink too much.” She shakes her head with disapproval.

The need to defend her arises. “No, ma’am. Something was added to her drink.”

“Oh!” she says as her hand touches her chest. “Pretty brazen considering where we are, but I’m not surprised. Would you mind helping Charlie return home?”

“I’m not going nowhere,” Charlie slurs. “Mother. I’m fiiiiine.”

“Of course, I’ll watch over her. But we’re not going home.” I look into her mother’s eyes. Priscilla doesn’t move or flinch, but her eyes say she knows there’s more behind my words.

She steps forward, “She’s very important to me.”

“I understand.”

“She has a bag in the trunk. Always. It’ll have everything she needs.”

I nod.

Charlie grips my arm with both hands and I wrap my arm around her. When I inhale, her honey scent filters in. My hand glides up and down her arm as we stand there. I won’t even let go of her for a second. I can’t believe someone drugged her. I was with her the entire time. I’m going to murder someone.

“Don’t worry about me, Mom,” Charlie says in a hushed voice as her eyes start to drift closed. “Keep the coffee on.”

I look at Charlie, and then at Priscilla quickly, and catch her nod. Her code for a mission? Her mother wraps her arm around her waist before she kisses her cheek.

“I love you, Ch—” she stops, looks at me quickly. “Charlie.”

Not another word is said as we head out the door.

Now to get the name of that son of a bitch waiter, cut off his balls, and feed them to him.

We get to the car and she starts to get sick. “I’m sorry,” she says as I hold her hair back. “I’m so tired.”