“You son of a bitch.”
My hands close around his throat like a vice, and I lean over him, pressing all my weight down on his neck as I squeeze. Noah registers what I’m doing, but he’s too slow. I’m already squeezing the life out of him. His remaining hand scrabbles at my wrist. He tries to use his useless one to push me off, and I can feel his body buck and squirm beneath me, but my grasp is unwavering. I tighten my squeeze until I can feel my nails cutting into the fat flesh of his neck and the dip against my palms as his trachea begins to cave under the strength of my grip.
“Youtookher from me,” I spit as he chokes and his eyes bulge. “You stole her, and it’s the last thing you willeverdo.”
Calmness washes over me like a cool wave, pushing back the blanket fog of anger that had descended the moment I saw him. His struggles wane, but I hold on; his dying gurgles like music. I watch the light in his eyes flicker and die as I strangle the last ounces of life out of his pathetic body.
He falls limp.
I remain like that for a few seconds before Archer’s shoes step into my vision. He doesn’t say anything; he merely holds out my gun as I lean back and climb up from Noah’s corpse.
I’m so close to Cara that I can almost feel her.
My heart stutters as I descend into the basement. There’s a chance he lied. There’s a chance I killed the only person who could tell me where Cara is if she’s not here, and yet those thoughts feel distant, far away. I approach the door and push it open. The tightness in my chest peaks so quickly that I can’t even breathe.
Then I see her.
The moment my eyes land on her, the world stops spinning. I hadn’t realized how hard my world had tilted off its axis with her absence until I see her sitting there, bound to that fucking chair, looking terrified for her life.
Her dark eyes are so wide I can see the whites all the way around, and her pretty red lips are pressed together in a slim, fearful line. Her hair is a wild nest around her face, and she looks paler than normal, like a ghost.
“Cara…” Her name tastes sweet on my tongue as I approach. I slide the gun into the belt of my pants so I can kneel before her and immediately start working on the ropes binding her to this place.
“Killian—,” she chokes out, and something about the way she sounds wraps thorns around my heart. I pause my hands on the rope and look up at her red-rimmed eyes staring wildly down at mine. For a second, I feel rooted to the spot, unable to breathe or move or think of anything other than how close I came to losing her. It’s alright now, though, I remind myself.I have her back.
“It’s okay,” I say gruffly, tearing my gaze away, and I hear the wounded noise of a sob bubble in the back of her throat. I rip through her bindings quicker, and my brow curls deep in a frown when I realize how red her wrists and ankles are, rubbed raw from her struggles.She fought back.I have to fight the smile that threatens at the corner of my mouth.
She fought to get back to me.
I choose to think that, at least, as I run my fingers gently over her wrists and marvel at how pretty they look when marked up like this.
But it’s a sight that angers me too.Mymarks should be the only decoration to ever paint her skin, marks that I choose to put there because she belongs tome.I run my fingers over her ankles, trying to soothe the injuries with my touch, and when she whimpers at the pain, it causes a surge of desire to flood my chest.
“It’s okay. I’m getting you out of here,” I say again, and this time as I lift my gaze to look at her, I slide my arms under her thighs and around her ribs to scoop her small form up into my arms. I half expect her to fight me on such a movement, but to my relief, she curls into my chest, and I clutch her tight against me.
This is where she belongs. In my arms. Safe.
7
CARA
He’s here.He’s really here. I can’t believe he came for me.
Killian burst in like a knight in tarnished armor, splattered in blood and looking so incredibly dark and dangerous, yet equally terrifying, as he stalks towards me. He kneels down next to me and removes my bindings with gentle hands. I’d never noticed how rough and calloused his fingers were until the pads of his fingertips were rubbing against the raw skin around my ankles.
“Killian…” I try to speak, but my throat betrays me. His voice rumbles deep through his chest as he gently shushes me as he scoops me up. Bundled up in his arms, I can’t comprehend how safe I feel surrounded by his muscles and the warmth that radiates from his chest. I don’t care about the blood soaking his shirt or the fact that he smells like smoke and sweat; all I care about is that he’s here.
Adrift in a sea of lies and betrayal,he came for me.
Such a thought almost sends me into a spiral and my stomach lurches as he carries me up the stairs and away from the room I was so sure would be my coffin. As we move through the building, I hear a scattering of voices all around, but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes and focus on any of it. I want to get out of here— Ineedto get out of here, and Killian seems to sense that need as his steps are rapid and sure.
Until one of the voices says something that makes him stop abruptly.
“Weapons?”
The word reverberates through his chest and I nuzzle deeper into him, setting my cheek firmly into the dip between his pectoral muscle and shoulder. Killian begins to move again, and I let his warmth wrap over me like a cozy, familiar sweatshirt.
“Cain and Declan are going to clean up here,” says a voice that I realize sluggishly belongs to Archer. “They’re going to talk to the women that are left, see if we can learn anything, and Cain has called Dante to let him know that Cara is safe.”