“Brock August.” The official voice asked without hesitation.
“Yeah.” He frowned, hearing raised voices, imperative shouts.
“This is Sheriff Martinez. Josh.” He and Josh had been friends in school. A long time ago.
Then it hit him.
“Sarah? Is she okay?” He was out of the bed and jerking his jeans from the chair before the words were out of his mouth.
“Hell if I know.” Frustration edged the sheriff’s voice. “ She won’t let anyone check her. She’s been shot though, I can tell you that much. We’re at the house. She’s refusing treatment and damned near hysterical. I need you to get here as soon as possible.”
“I’m bringing the chopper. I can land in her back yard.” There was no question of it. It more than an hour’s drive away. He would kill himself before he made it there.
“So I figured,” Josh informed him. “Just get here. She needs treatment and she’s in shock. And I don’t know if there are any other injuries.”
Brock’s heart jumped to his throat.
“Meaning?” he asked.
“Meaning all she’s dressed in is a comforter she has wrapped around her body and she refuses to let any of us near her. I don’t know, man. But she keeps asking for you, so I called you.”
“I’ll be there.” He disconnected. “Cade!” He threw open the door, yelling his brother’s name as he jerked on his boots.
Seconds later both Sam and Cade were in their doorways.
“Someone attacked Sarah. I’m heading to town.” He rushed down the hallway.
“Sam, get the jeep ready. Marly get dressed.” Cade called back to Marly.
“I’m taking the chopper.”
“Then you’ll wait on one of us.” Cade caught him as he made to pass.
“Think, Brock. Five minutes. That’s all. Sam can go out in the chopper with you and Marly and I will follow in the jeep. Don’t be a fool.”
Cade’s expression was savage, imperative. Brock knew Sarah was his soul, and he knew that made her more than important to his brothers as well. They had no choice but to fight to protect her now, for it made her their heart.
“Get going then,” he growled. “Hurry up, Sam, I’ll have the chopper warming.”
He didn’t want to spare five minutes but hell, he knew it would take that long to get the helicopter ready to fly. He ran from the house, his heart pounding, fear clogging his throat. She was hurt. It was all he could think about. He
had to get to her, and he had to get to her now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Brock wanted to kill when he saw her. She was huddled in the corner of the bedroom, a bloody comforter wrapped around her, surrounded by enough damned men to send his possessive instincts into overdrive.
Her head was lowered, her silken honey colored hair falling around her, mussed and tangled, stained red on her left shoulder.
“This is how we found her.” Josh stood back as Brock entered the room. “She only shakes her head and cries when we try to treat her, Brock. We have to find out how bad she’s been hurt.”
Brock ignored him. Fury, raw and ripe traveled through his body, made him want to scream out in rage.
“Get a handle, bro. Doc’s on his way here.” Sam laid his hand on Brock’s shoulder warningly. “Cade was calling him as we left the ranch. Just help her pull it together.”
Brock shrugged his hand away.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” he growled at the EMT’s and various deputies huddled around her. “Dammit Josh, why are you letting them crowd her this way?”