She didn’t move. She was so still, slumped on her stomach on the ground. He slammed onto his knees, ignoring the pain as he reached over and felt for her pulse. There it was. Thank God!
It was a bit erratic and too fast for his liking. He leaned down, his face close to her mouth to check her breathing. Okay. So what happened? Had she fainted? Possibly. She’d been out running for a long time.
“Georgina, can you hear me? Come on, honey, wake up for me.”
He heard a groan and gently ran his hands over her body, searching for injury. A cold wind whipped around him. Fuck, she was dressed just in some lycra and a windbreaker. It wasn’t enough for this weather, especially with sweat drying on her skin.
Rain started bucketing down. Perfect.
He had to get her out of this downpour. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her, hoping it gave her some protection from the rain. Then he picked her up, bridal style, and stood.
Fuck. She was way too light. He thought she’d lost weight, but now he was starting to grow concerned. She felt lighter than a feather.
“W-what’s going on? W-what’s happening? Put me d-down! No!”
Her scream of fear had him tensing. She started fighting him. Fuck, she was going to hurt herself.
“Georgina, it’s me. It’s Ed. The sheriff.”
“No, no, no, don’t hurt me!”
His heart stopped at her cries. Who the fuck had hurt her? Whoever it was, he was going to kill them. Murder them. Rip them limb from limb.
Nobody touched her.
Opening the door, he set her down on the seat. Immediately, she tried to lunge out and he caught her around the waist.
“Georgina, come back to me. You’re here with me. Ed. In Wishingbone. Nobody is going to hurt you.” He was practically pleading with her and it was making no difference. She pummeled at him with her fists. But she was so physically weak, her hits weren’t much stronger than a babe. That scared him.
He had to get her calmed down and to the hospital.
But reasoning with her wasn’t working. Shit. He was out of other things to try. He placed his hands on either side of her face.
“Georgie, listen to me,” he said in his deepest Dom voice. To his shock, she froze. Okay, then. “Georgie-girl, I need you to calm down. Understand me?”
She whimpered. “He’ll hurt me.”
“Nobody is going to hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you again while Da . . . I mean, while I’m here.”
Fuck what was he doing? He’d nearly referred to himself as Daddy.
But she was calming down.
“He’s coming for me.”
“Nobody is coming for you,” he reassured her. He’d fucking murder anyone who touched her.
“I don’t want to be hurt.”
Fuck. She was killing him. “Nobody will hurt you. I’m going to take care of you, understand, baby?”
She sniffled. “O-okay.”
“Good girl, you just sit back and relax.” He was worried that she wasn’t shivering. That wasn’t a good sign. He had to get her warm.
She’d slumped over, unconscious again. Fuck. He quickly belted her in then ran to the back of his truck and grabbed a blanket. Opening the door again, he tucked it around her. She hadn’t moved.
Fuck. Fuck.