Noise sounded behind him, a grunt followed by a hiss—Jesse detaining the other guy. Holden ignored it, because this dumb fuck was getting up.
The second the asshole was on his feet, he growled and ran, body low as he sprinted toward Holden.
He stepped to the side at the last second and grabbed the guy around the middle before spinning—this time throwing him headfirst into the brick wall.
A crack sounded, followed by the guy’s body hitting the ground.
Then he was still.
Holden turned back to see Jesse’s guy down too, and Becket crashing outside, fury on his face. “What the hell is going on?”
Jesse lifted his phone, probably calling the station, while Holden ran to Clara. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She was breathless and her eyes were wide. Shock.
He cupped her cheek. “Did he hurt you?” Because if he did, Holden was turning back to the fucker and murdering his ass.
“No,” Clara said softly. “He didn’t hurt me. They wanted to take Helen, and I said no.”
Holden followed her gaze to Helen. Jesse was by her side, hand on her back.
Suddenly, Becket and Indie were beside them, pulling Clara up and into their arms.
Holden’s hands twitched to bring her back to him. He wanted her as close as fucking possible. He fisted his hands to stop himself.
It didn’t take long for Jesse’s deputies to arrive. By that time, the guys were starting to wake up and there were even more people in the alley. Briar, Deb, and Malcolm all huddled around Helen, who was looking paler by the second. Even Clara’s roommate was there, but she seemed to be more of an observer than anything else.
“Are you okay?” Becket asked, as he came to stand beside Holden.
Holden watched as Clara told her version of events to the deputies. Then he looked at the back of the sheriff’s car, where the two men sat in handcuffs. “No. He had his hands on her, and I can just imagine what would have happened if Jesse and I hadn’t come out here when we did. I want to murder them both.”
“Me too, brother. Me too.” Rage coated Becket’s words. Rage that matched Holden’s.
When Clara was done talking to the deputies, Indie slipped an arm around her waist. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Holden stepped forward. “I’ll take her.”
Clara shook her head. “You don’t need—”
“I do.” He needed to see that she got home safely the same as he needed air to breathe.
Indie looked at Clara. “What doyouwant?”
Clara looked up at Holden, and she must have seen something in his eyes, maybe the sheer desperation to be close to her, because her features softened as she turned to Indie. “I’ll go with Holden.”
The two women hugged, then Holden slipped an arm around Clara’s waist and led her to his truck. He felt her questioninggaze on him as they walked, but he put all his energy into tamping down the fury, especially as he passed the assholes in the car.
They remained silent the entire drive to her place. But he shot her plenty of glances. Her face was always too pale. Her brows knitted too tightly together.
It wasn’t until her door was unlocked and opened that she finally turned and spoke to him. “Holden…I’m okay.”
“That could have played out very differently.”
“But it didn’t.” She touched his arm. “Thank you for keeping Helen and me safe.”
He inched closer, barely leaving a breath of space between them. “Don’t do that again.”
“Do what?”
