Shit!
“She wants him, * boy,” he spits out as his hand finds my throat.
He’s a goddamned liar and I won’t let him rile me. I twist and scream in rage. The grip on my throat tightens and his laugh is maniacal.
“She fucked that freak and loved—” he starts, but a crack of something impacting his skull shuts him up. His dark eyes drop closed as he collapses on top of me.
A baseball bat wielding, crazed angel stands before us.
I’m dizzied and confused but I know it’s Baylee—in all her furious glory—standing before me.
“D-Did he hurt you?” she stammers out as she drops the bat to push Gabe off of me.
I help her shove him away and blink away the daze. “I’m fine. Where’s my gun? I’m going to kill him.”
When I start for it, she launches for me. I’m shocked at her strength as she tackles me. Her pretty blue eyes are wild with fury as she pushes me back down to the floor. The gun is forgotten as I focus on how it feels to have her long legs straddled around me.
God, I fucking missed her.
“What are you doing?”
Tears well in her eyes and I slide a hand into her messy hair, drawing her to me. Those lips. Those perfect lips need kissing and tasting. She needs me to make it all better. Her mouth parts open and I can almost taste her sweet tongue on mine. But when I’m inches away, she slaps her palm over my mouth and widens her eyes.
“You can’t kill him,” she hisses. “At least not until I have answers from him.”
A growl rumbles through my chest but one shake of her head silences me.
“Help me tie him up. I know where he keeps all the fucking rope.” Her words drip with hate and venom. She doesn’t need to tell me what he’s done to her—her demeanor tells me enough.
Rape.
Torture.
Mind games.
Her crazed eyes tell me so.
“Yeah,” I agree with a huff once she releases my mouth and sits up. “But when you’re done, he’s dead. Fucking dead.”
Tears well in her eyes and she gives me a clipped nod. “The rope is in the bedroom closet.”
She slides off me, and despite the day’s chaos, I immediately miss her heat. Hopefully, soon I’ll have her in my arms where she belongs. When I stand, I nudge the gun to her. “If he moves, shoot him.”
Her blue eyes find mine and she gives me a small smile. “With pleasure.”
Gabe hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s not going anywhere. I’ve made sure of that. He’s tied to a chair in the kitchen with a dishrag, Baylee’s idea, gagging his mouth shut. Once he was secure, I watched her as she slipped into some sort of trance.
Her once lithe, toned body now appears wilted and fragile. Skin that used to glow from a year-round California tan, is lackluster and washed out. Blonde hair that used to hang in silken waves in front of her shoulders is now tangled and dull.
But the part of her that’s the most different are her eyes.
Her sparkling, innocent blues have been replaced.
They’re darker now. They hold secrets—secrets that will probably haunt her for the rest of her life, and I wonder if she’ll ever find the strength to divulge them. Her eyes bear the pain she’s endured and I’d give anything to make it go away. To see the soft look she used to gaze at me with once again.
“I brought you some things. You should shower and dress,” I say softly, letting my eyes drag over her scantily clad body. When I’d rescued her, she’d been wearing nothing but a T-shirt despite the frigid morning air.
I cringe to think what would have happened had I not been released on bail sooner. If my mom hadn’t have thrown a hissy fit to get me out of there, despite the fact I hit my father. The moment I was released, I was back in my truck, hauling ass out to this cabin, without so much as a muttered word of thanks.
I was almost too late.
But I wasn’t.
I’d been there at exactly the right time.
It was fate.
“You think he’ll bleed to death?” Her whispered words draw me from my mind and I follow her stare to Gabe. His head is leaning forward and his eyes are closed. After I shot him, he’d thrown on a T-shirt and the blood from his wound has soaked the sleeve. But it’s not gushing. I had only clipped him—barely grazed the bastard.
“I wish,” I huff and run a hand through my unruly hair, my newest habit, “but I think it’s just a flesh wound. He’ll probably be just fine.”
She nods and leaves the room without another word. With a sigh, I trot out to the truck and retrieve my bag. Once back inside, I hear the shower running so I make my way into the bedroom and set to pulling out some things for her.
The room reeks of sex.
Of him and her.
Together. In this fucking bed.
It nauseates me.