A pair of arms wrapped around me, dragging me back down to the bed.I thrashed, clawing, punching, but my movements were sluggish, uncoordinated.My hands felt like they belonged to someone else.
“It’s okay, baby.You’re okay.I’ll make sure she’s okay, too.”
That voice.Hisvoice.It made my stomach roil, acid burning my throat.
I fought harder, my nails scraping against fabric, muscles trembling with the effort.My surroundings swam, the edges going gray.
“She’s confused and disoriented,” another man said, his tone calm.As if this weren’t his first abduction.
It probably wasn’t.
“I’m going to sedate her so she doesn’t injure herself further.”
Sedate?No.Not again.
I tried to shake my head.Tried to kick.Tried to scream.But my tongue was thick in my mouth, my body refusing to obey my brain.
A sharp pinch bit into my arm, and what little strength I had to begin with evaporated.
“No…” I begged, the word a whisper.
My limbs turned to sandbags, heavy and useless.
Strong arms closed around me, pulling me against a chest I knew too well.My head lolled against hard muscle, my body betraying me as it sagged into his hold.
Henry’s scent was everywhere, leather and wood and something darker I used to find intoxicating.Now it suffocated me.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to my temple.“You’re safe now.”His voice broke with emotion, which only confused me more.“I swear I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
The words tangled in my mind.
Safe?With him?
He’d abducted me.Planned to deliver me straight into the hands of the Bratva.And yet, he sounded like he was scared.Like seeing me this way tore him apart.
I wanted to scream at him, shove him away, tell him he was a worse monster than my husband.At leasthe’dnever sold me to the Bratva.
But the darkness was already sliding in, thick and merciless.
The last thing I remembered was the steady beat of Henry’s heart beneath my ear…and the terrifying uncertainty of what awaited me the next time I woke up.
ChapterFour
Henry
The glow of the monitors washed the office in blue.I refused to look away despite the exhaustion that had consumed me since we landed in Georgia.Hell, since the adrenaline of finding and rescuing Ariana had worn off.
I rubbed my eyes, but continued to watch the feed of her as she slept in one of my guest bedrooms.She looked so small, her face pale, hair splayed across the pillow, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.
Thankfully, her injuries weren’t too bad.Mild concussion.Bruised ribs.Sprained knee that would make it difficult to walk for a few days.Nothing that required surgery.
Nothing that wouldn’t heal.
For now, all I could do was watch.And wait.And hope when she woke up and I told her the truth, she wouldn’t hate me.
That she’d believe me.
Shehadto believe me.
