Bridger pressed closer to the door, praying inside. He needed so much help, and he didn’t know where to find it. Creed would’ve already taken the entire group of mercenaries out and swept the love of his life into his arms. Bridger cursed himself for not choosing a military career. Why had he wasted so much time being the best at untraditional sports? It was superfluous and idiotic. Who cared about fame or excitement if he couldn’t protect Avalyn?
He heard nothing on the other side of the door. He slammed it with his body again and then collapsed against it. Tears traced down his face. He didn’t know the last time he’d cried, probably when he was little and his brothers were teasing or torturing him. He’d gotten pretty tough with three older brothers. There was nothing tough about him right now. He was weak and his life was meaningless.
He faintly heard his name being called. He straightened. Was he delusional? It sounded like Avalyn. Pressing closer to the door, he listened again. There it was. Avalyn was yelling his name.
“No!” he hollered, not able to stand thinking about what Ramsey must be doing to her. She was calling out for Bridger, and he could hear it this far away. There couldn’t be a worse torture in the world.
“Avalyn! Ava!” He backed up and ran at the door again. He rammed against it, and the door popped open.
The guards stood back, grinning at him. Mike held out a knife. Bridger’s eyes widened and his stomach dropped. “For your hands,” Mike explained.
“Thank you.” Bridger turned, and Mike cut his hands free. “Thank you!” he yelled again, taking off at a run down the hallway.
Avalyn was running right at him. Bridger’s steps faltered. She was free?
“Bridger!” she screamed. She slammed into him.
Bridger lifted her off her feet and swung her around. “Avalyn!”
Guards surrounded them and Bridger tensed, sheltering her with his body. They weren’t taking her from him again. He didn’t care if they killed him. He couldn’t go through the past hour again. He’d rather die.
“Sir,” one of the guards said. “Why don’t you go into your suite? I’m sure you’d like some privacy.” He winked.
Bridger stared at him, hardly able to comprehend what he was saying. He glanced down at Avalyn’s beautiful, shining face. “Ramsey let me go!” she said, beaming.
Bridger shook his head in disbelief.
“It’s true.” Avalyn laughed, looking young and fresh and beautiful. Was it really possible? Her innocence and light had been preserved?
Bridger looked to Klein, who nodded. “He asked us to escort her back here,” Klein said.
“Thank you,” Bridger managed to croak through the lump in his throat. He felt weak all over again, but for very different reasons this time. He swooped Avalyn off the floor, held her against his chest, and strode down the hallway. She smiled up at him, so happy and absolutely radiant. Avalyn was okay. She was in his arms. Nothing else mattered.
Bridger pushed through the door and closed it behind him. He walked to the couch and sank down with her still in his arms. Burying his head in her soft hair, he let out a choking sob. “Ava.” He simply held her close for a few seconds and she burrowed into him, clinging to his neck. “He didn’t …?” He finally dredged up the words, but he couldn’t finish the question. She didn’t appear to be harmed, but he had to be sure.
“No.”
“No?” Bridger raised his head and studied her deep brown eyes.
She shook her head, and a shudder raced through her body. “I thought he would. He told me to shower and left me only this dress to put on.”
Bridger took in the dress. It was beautiful on her, but the thought of Ramsey making her wear it for him, of reducing Avalyn to little more than her exquisite face and body … He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.
“I was praying for strength to fight him off, but then …” She studied him for a few beats and then looked away. “He just told me to go.”
Bridger wondered if there was more to it than she was telling him. There was something in her eyes, and he didn’t like that pause. He focused on the one beautiful truth, that Ramsey hadn’t taken advantage of her. “Maybe I won’t kill him when I see him again,” he muttered darkly.
Avalyn blinked at him. “He said that I’d like tomorrow’s challenge, that I wasn’t involved.”
Bridger processed this. “Maybe he’s starting to feel guilty for putting you through all of this.”
She shrugged.
“Today’s challenge was awful because I didn’t get to you, but it wasn’t as dangerous as the last two days. I was sure you almost drowning that first day really shook him up. Maybe he’s going to alter the challenges to just involve him and me, for his publicity stunt to keep going, but not risk you anymore.”
Avalyn simply stared at him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.