Shallow, but steady," Harlan replied, already hoisting Rafael's unconscious form with surprising strength for his age. He half-carried, half-dragged the taller man toward the Ferrari, grunting with effort. "Pale as a ghost, though. That venom's movin' quick—maybe the alcohol's acceleratin' it. I'm puttin' the address in the GPS now. Fancy car like this has all the bells and whistles." He settled Rafael in the passenger seat, buckling him in, then slid behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life with a throaty purr.
James nodded to himself, forcing calm into his voice despite the panic clawing at his chest. "Good. Drive safe—I'll alert them. And Harlan? Thank you. Rafael... he's more than a boss or friend to me. He's family."
