Page 167 of To Catch a Sub

On the other side of the door was a short hall, with a closet on the left.

He eased the door closed, then flipped the security latch before inching down the hall. He didn’t want anyone coming in behind him. He crouched before looking around the corner. A bed, oddly surrounded by lights, a few chairs near the windows, and an open door to what was probably the bathroom.

He didn’t see anyone. Including Colette.

Weight on the balls of his feet, Landon slowly rose, constantly scanning the room. Someone could be crouched on the far side of the bed, or hiding in the bathroom.

Only when he was at his full height did he see her. He’d known this was the right room—he’d seen the chain hanging from the curtain rod, but Colette herself had been hidden by the chairs.

Now he could see her, and his heart fucking broke.

Landon raced across the room, fumbling the knife into the sheath a second before he hit his knees in front of her. He should have cleared the room, but now that he saw her, he needed to go to her more than he needed his next breath.

“Colette.”

She looked up, her eyes glassy.

She was naked—except for a band around her chest and some ugly jewelry—sitting with her legs folded to one side and her arms stretched high above her. Her chin was smeared with blood, her lower lip swollen and split.

An elastic bandage was wrapped around her breasts, and the flesh he could see above it was marked by fat bruises and teeth marks.

He wanted to grab her. Needed to hold her. Was afraid to hurt her.

Landon reached for the gold cuffs around her wrists. “It’s okay, love. I’m getting you out of here.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

Colette was scared to believe what she was seeing. Landon was running his fingers over the gold chains around her wrists.

She looked up, watching him. “You came.”

Landon glanced down, his hard gaze going soft. He sank back on his heels.

“I’ll always find you.”

Colette started to shake with relief, odd pressure building inside her.

His gaze skittered over her. “Fuck I want to hug you but I’m scared to touch you.”

“I need you to touch me. So I know this is real.”

Landon carefully slid his arms around her, pulling her up on her knees. She leaned into him, pain jolting through her when her nipples—which were mostly numb—pressed against his hard chest. She didn’t care.

He buried his face in her hair, and his arms trembled as he held her. He’d been as scared as she was.

“I’m sorry, love, but we have to go.”

“I don’t want to stay,” she assured him fervently.

Landon laughed softly, releasing her to once more examine her wrists. Feeling was returning to her hands now that she wasn’t pulling on them, and her fingers prickled with pain.

“How the fuck do you open these?” Landon snarled in frustration. He was looking for a keyhole or clasp.

Colette bowed her head, shame heating her face, though she knew she had no reason to feel ashamed.

“Fuck it,” Landon mutter, pulling out his knife.

Was he going to cut off her hand? At this point, she’d gladly lose a limb if it meant leaving.