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She ended up curled in a ball in the corner, rocking herself, her breath coming so fast he worried she might pass out.

Her terror ate at him and he glanced down in an effort to calm himself.

And that’s when he spotted the blood. Shit, no.

“Fuck, where is she bleeding?” Zeke said quietly. He hadn’t even heard the other man move up beside him.

“I don’t know. Call Doc. Tell him to bring a sedative.”

Zeke shot him a look but just nodded and backed slowly out of the room. He hated to have to do it, but if she was bleeding, they needed to get her calmed down and attended to.

“Little darling, I don’t know if you can hear me,” he told her in a low, soothing voice. “But I’m here now. I’m not going to let any harm come to you, understand?” As he spoke, he moved closer, managing to get with a few feet of her.

“You’re safe now, baby. Daddy won’t let anything happen to you.”

9

He watched her sleep.

She was beautiful. Her lips plump and rosy red, her eyelashes long and dark. She seemed even smaller when she was lying still like this. Doc had grumbled over how underweight and pale she was. After giving her a sedative, which Clint and Zeke had had to hold her down for him to administer, Doc had followed him as he’d carried her to his place. He’d stitched up her hand and bandaged it. He’d wanted to transport her to his clinic where he could watch over her.

Like hell. She was staying with him.

Possessiveness filled him. She was his. Even if he’d done a terrible job of looking after her.

Doc had left after giving him instructions for her care and demanding that he bring her to the clinic for a full check-up. Clint had just nodded. He wanted her to receive the best care. He didn’t think she’d had very much care in her life.

“No. No.” She thrashed her head back and forth on the pillow. “Don’t! Brian!”

He stilled. Who the fuck was Brian? She cried out. It was a sound filled with sorrow and hurt. His concern turned to anger. Had this Brian hurt her? If he had, Clint would kill the bastard.

Leaning forward in his chair, he cupped the side of her face. He needed to try and get some painkillers into her soon.

“Charlotte, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

She whimpered, her head thrashing from side to side. “Brian, no. Please.”

He stilled. What had this Brian done to her? He grabbed the bottle of painkillers, shaking out a couple into his hand.

“Charlotte, I need you to open your mouth and swallow these pills,” he told her sternly.

“No.” It was said in such a stubborn voice that he raised an eyebrow. She sounded like a naughty toddler who didn’t want to be put down for a nap.

He pressed the pills against her lips. She moved her head. “No!”

He sighed. Well, seemed like they were taking option two. She wasn’t going to be happy when she woke up and found out how he’d administered the medication, but he wanted her to get some pain-free rest. She was obviously exhausted. He was determined she wouldn’t get out of bed until she had some color in her cheeks.

This was his preferred way to give a little girl her medicine anyway. But he’d rather not do this when she was so out of it. He grimaced. But he would do what he needed to take care of her.

Charlotte was his. He no longer cared that he was her employer. It was obvious she needed him to step in. She needed his care now. And that was what she would receive.

Charlotte whimpered. “No. Please. I’ll be all alone.”

Her voice was high-pitched, childish. Lost. It pulled at his protective instincts.

“Hush, baby,” he said tenderly.

“Auntie, no!”


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