Safe at Last (Slow Burn #3)

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Zack said grimly.

Satisfied that he’d encounter no further nasty surprises, Zack picked himself up and quickly freed Alyssa’s wrists, using the key lying on a table just a few feet away. As soon as she was free, she threw her arms around him and sobbed into his neck. He closed his eyes, cupping the back of her head as he gently stroked her hair.

“It’s all right now, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

“No it’s not,” she said with gulping sobs. “It’ll never be all right again.”

She clung tightly to him, her grief causing a knot to form in Zack’s throat. The world was filled with all kinds of sick, twisted fucks, but even this had the power to surprise him. That someone so young was so evil and . . . sick. He didn’t have words.

“Can you get up or do you need me to carry you?” Zack said, using a soothing, calming voice. “How badly are you hurt?”

At his question, she completely fell apart, her cries so hopeless that it enraged him that such innocence had been destroyed. But even then, he wasn’t prepared for her answer.

“She broke my knees,” Alyssa sobbed. “She made it so I’ll never dance again. Dancing was all I had and now it’s gone. She was supposed to be my friend. We were going to room together, go to the same performing arts academy. Oh God. What if I never walk again?”

Zack went utterly still with shock. As gently as he could, considering he was shaking with rage, he pulled her away, just enough that he could evaluate her legs. He hadn’t seen them before. He’d been too focused on Lana and the knife she’d held and the fear in Alyssa’s eyes.

And what he saw horrified him.

The leotards she’d worn in her recital were torn and bloodied, impossibly stretched by massive swelling caused by trauma to the kneecaps. He’d never felt so sick in his life. Not since the day . . .

He shook his head, refusing to go back to that time in his life. There was a young girl who needed him right now. He was all that had stood between her and death. And to her, such a devastating injury was tantamount to death.

He very carefully slid one arm underneath her thighs, above the backs of her knees and below her behind, and secured his other arm around her upper body, hooking it underneath her armpit.

“This will hurt, honey, but I have to get you out of here and to a hospital where it’s safe. Perhaps your injuries aren’t as severe as you fear.”

Devastation and doubt were clear in her tear-swollen eyes, but she clamped her lips shut and leaned into him, not uttering a single sound as he lifted her and carried her past Lana, who was still handcuffed to the chair.

“What about me?” Lana shrieked. “You shot me!”

Zack turned his cold gaze on her, ensuring Alyssa’s head was tucked firmly beneath his chin, her face buried against his neck so she would no longer have to lay eyes on her torturer.

“Sue me,” he growled.





TWO


ZACK shifted position on an uncomfortable stool in a bar better described as a dive, several blocks from his apartment. It was a place he used as an escape, because no one knew him here. Despite his regularity, he kept to himself, never talking to others and definitely not using it as a place to pick up women for one-night stands. It was simply a place to blow off steam after a particularly bad assignment or the times when his past came back to haunt him despite his best efforts to move beyond it.

In this case, it was a double whammy.

Because the job from hell—literally—had brought back painful memories that he’d been able to keep at bay for a period of time he was proud of. He’d even thought he was beyond the worst. Moving on. Finally letting go and accepting. Accepting that the life he’d planned—the life he’d dreamed of—was never going to be a reality, and that it was time to focus on a new dream. A new vision. Or sacrifice forever any semblance of happiness and a satisfying, fulfilling life.

Yeah, when put like that, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he’d been a prisoner of things he had no control of, for far, far too long. It was time to get the fuck over it and pull his head out of his ass.

“Hey.” A soft voice interrupted his litany of self-castigation.

He turned gratefully, relieved to have a reprieve from his current train of thought even if he preferred not to be disturbed when he was here, a place he could usually count on being left alone because everyone kept to themselves and minded their business.