Drake. King closed his eyes as an angry growl rumbled in his throat. His fist clenched and he began to get up. The only thing in his head right now revolved around getting a really big fucking gun and blowing a hole in that bastards head. Clearly he would be needing a really big gun for this particular task.
But, Abby was hurt. She needed him and he had never been able to just walk away.
Taking her arm he wrapped his hand around her wrist, the other braced against her chest. This was going to hurt and he didn’t want to do it. Still, it had to be done. “Take a deep breath.” He didn’t mean to sound so angry but it couldn’t be helped. King was livid, uncontrollably so.
There was no delicate way to do this. He couldn’t softly tug it back in place. King took a deep breath himself and gave her arm a very hard jerk. There was a loud pop as the joint slipped back together.