I had no idea how much time had passed, but the rumble of a car engine brought me back.
“Finally,” Nash muttered.
A car door slammed. “Fuck. What happened to her?” a low, masculine voice said.
“She’s been beaten. She has a gunshot wound to the arm. It’s a flesh wound, thankfully.” He sounded so angry.
“You kill the fucker who did this?”
The other male voice was angry, too, but he had a really sexy voice, with a touch of a rasp.
“One of them,” Nash replied. “The others ran, but I’ll catch them.”
There was a dark promise in his voice. A lethal one. I shivered.
“Easy, Georgie.” His tone softened.
The next thing I knew, I was being carefully laid on the back seat of an SUV.
I couldn’t stop a whimper. Everything hurt.
“I know, sweetheart.” A hand brushed over my hair. “Soon. You got any painkillers?”
“I brought my kit. I’ll give her something. She have any allergies?”
Nash leaned over me. “Sweetheart, you have any allergies?”
“No…”
Then I felt a small prick in my arm.
“Nash, is this…?” The man made a sound. “She’s the picture in your wallet.”
“Yes.” Nash sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth.
“Hell, okay. Clinic?”
“No, my place.”
There was a long pause. “All right, but if I think she has any broken bones or internal bleeding, she’ll need the clinic.”
“Fine, but she’s staying with me. Where I can take care of her. Where I can protect her.”
His words didn’t make any sense. No one took care of me. I looked after everyone else, and failed in all of that. They all died.
That was my last thought before the pain faded away, then so did everything else.
CHAPTER 13
NASH
Very carefully, I carried Georgie into my villa.
I ignored my barely used guest room and entered my own bedroom. I laid her gently on the king bed. She looked so feminine compared to the bold, masculine colors of my room.
She stirred.
“Shh.” I stroked her hair.
