In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

The guards beat a hasty retreat, closing and locking the cell door before hurrying away, disappearing from sight.

Gavin rushed the few feet over to Ari, sinking to his knees, his hands automatically running over her body, afraid of what he’d find. Ginger joined him, her eyes red and swollen, so much worry reflected in her tormented gaze.

“There’s so much blood!” Ginger choked out around a sob. “Oh God, Gavin, is she . . . Is she even alive?”

Gavin’s eyes briefly closed even as he carefully smoothed Ari’s hair from her neck so he could check for a pulse. His own heart was about to beat out of his chest. His hands were shaking so badly that his fingers kept glancing off her skin before he could ascertain the strength of her pulse. Or if she even had one.

Finally he forced himself to calm enough that his hand steadied, and he pressed the area over her carotid artery. He sagged, nearly toppling over with relief when he felt the erratic flutter against his fingertips.

“She’s alive,” he said quietly.

“Oh thank God,” Ginger whispered brokenly. Then she touched his arm to get his attention, her terrified gaze finding his. “How can we know how badly she’s injured? What if we do her more harm by moving her?”

Gavin had the same fear but he’d be damned if he left his daughter on the cold, hard floor of the dank cell. He would certainly handle her more carefully than the guards in their brutal treatment of her.

“Let me lay her down on the cot, darling,” Gavin said, forcing calm into his voice he neither believed nor felt.

Just as much as he didn’t want to panic Ginger, neither did he want her to see how precariously close he was to becoming utterly unhinged and losing any semblance of control.

He cursed softly as he began to shake again when he slid his arms underneath her body with frustrating slowness. His instincts screamed at him to gather her in his arms, hold her close and never let go, never let her back into the hands of monsters.

He was genuinely worried that his legs simply wouldn’t support Ari’s slight weight, much less his own. He sucked in several steadying breaths, trying valiantly to calm the raging fury storming through his veins.

Gently, he lifted, still crouched in a kneeling position. He drew her up and into his arms, cradling her against his chest. For a moment he paused, praying he wouldn’t falter when he tried to stand. Never had he had a more important reason to be so patient and careful.

“Here, let me help you,” Ginger said anxiously, anchoring her entire body, stiffening with all her might as she attempted to help haul him to his feet as he held Ari the entire time.

Though his petite, delicate wife, so much like Ari, despite not being her biological mother, hardly had the strength to accomplish such a task, he didn’t deny her aid because he sensed she was on the verge of completely falling apart and needed to do something—anything—to remain stalwart. A feat he admired since he was just as close to breaking down himself as he stared down at his bruised and bloodied daughter.

Tears burned the corners of his eyes as he ever so carefully placed her on the cot, inching his arms from underneath her. Though her eyes were fixed and glassy, she didn’t seem remotely aware of anything, almost as if she were unconscious despite her eyes being wide. But still, he didn’t want to do anything that would inadvertently cause her more pain, which was why he moved with extreme slowness, careful not to jostle her.

“Oh Gavin,” Gingerly said tearfully as she settled just above Ari’s head. “What did they do to her?” She shifted her pleading gaze to her husband, anger, fury and utter despair burning brightly in her brown eyes, which that were now nearly black. “What did they do?”

Sorrow was a heavy, suffocating blanket over the entire cell. Gavin couldn’t even form the words to offer his wife comfort when he had none to give. He couldn’t give her an answer that would appease her because he was afraid he would be telling her a complete lie.

There was so much blood. It soaked the entire front of her shirt, streaked from her ears down the sides of her neck, where it collected in large splattered spots atop the ridge between her shoulders and base of her neck. More blood covered her mouth, was drying in her nostrils and now that he was studying her closer he was able to confirm his earlier suspicion that she’d even bled from her eyes.

Had they beaten her so badly?