Klaus loosened his hold. “Tell me!”
Air rushed into her lungs, and the mind fog slowly faded. She reached for the idea that she had been mulling over for the past ten minutes. She prayed she was doing the right thing.
“I’m waiting,” Klaus warned, looming over her.
“Callie’s . . . at a . . . party.”
“A party? What the fuck? Where?”
“Over at the . . . Fainting Goat.” She could imagine what was going to happen to these men when they went up against a roomful of former military elite. It was her best chance of staying alive, and with luck, Edge, Conn, Trace, and the rest of the Nighthawk crew would be able to handle the situation, protect Callie, and put an end to the threat these men posed.
Unless something went wrong.
Skye didn’t want to think about that.
Finally, Klaus let her go and backed away. He looked over at Webb. “I changed my mind. Go ahead. You can have her. Just make it quick.”
Oh, dear God!Skye summoned the last of her strength, preparing to fight as Webb jerked her up from the floor and started dragging her over to the leather sofa in the entry.
The only light in the office was the brass lamp on her desk. Webb hauled her into the shadows and shoved her down on the sofa, roughly groped her breasts though her cashmere sweater, started dragging up her long, dark green wool skirt, clothes she had chosen for Edge’s party, before she decided she couldn’t handle seeing him again.
Skye waited till the skirt was above her knees, then lashed out with her good leg, managing to kick Webb in the groin with her leather ankle boot.
“You bitch!” Hissing a curse, Webb’s hand went to his crotch, and he bent over in pain. Furious, he grabbed her ankle and jerked her off the sofa onto the floor, then drew back his boot to kick her in the ribs.
The blow never landed. Instead, Webb’s powerful leg went flying upward, knocking him off balance, his body landing hard on the floor.
Edge!
Klaus’s fist doubled up as he raced across the room to aid his friend. Swinging a hard punch Edge ducked, the Viking recovered and swung again, but Edge was ready. Whirling, he jumped and high-kicked Klaus in the face, sending him spinning backward to land hard against the wall.
Webb was back on his feet, gun in hand. Edge knocked the gun aside and punched Webb in the stomach hard enough to double him over; then Edge slammed the ridge of his hand against the side of Webb’s neck, hitting his carotid artery. Webb went down as if his legs had been cut off at the knees.
Klaus charged like a bull. Skye stuck her good leg out and tripped him as he ran past, and Klaus went flying. Edge grabbed his head as he staggered past and slammed it into the wall. Klaus and Webb were both down and out.
Skye looked up as Edge ran toward her. Crouching on the floor at her side, he pulled her into his arms.
“I’ve got you. Everything’s okay. They won’t hurt you again.” Dragging out his pocketknife, he cut the duct tape binding her wrists, eased her up from the floor and back into his arms. Skye could feel him trembling.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeated, then drew in a steadying breath. “I’m calling an ambulance. How bad are you hurt?”
Skye shook her head. “No ambulance. No way. I don’t need an ambulance—I’m okay.” She hurt all over, but it wasn’t pain that made tears well in her eyes. It was the way Edge was holding her, as if she were something precious, as if she was the most important person in the world.
He kissed the top of her head, eased her up to her feet, swept her up, and carried her over to the sofa.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Hurrying to his desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out a handful of zip ties. In minutes, Klaus and Webb were cuffed, hand and foot, completely immobilized, and gagged with the same duct tape they had used to bind Skye. Edge called the police, told them the nature of their emergency, and gave them the names of the men who had broken into the office.
Edge returned to the sofa, sat down beside her, and eased her into his arms. “Looks like they roughed you up pretty good. We need to get you checked out.”
Skye shook her head. “I’ve got cuts and bruises, but my head’s okay, so no concussion. I’d rather just go home.”
He smoothed the back of his hand down her cheek. “Are you sure?”
“I’m all right.” She managed to smile. “I would have been in serious trouble if you hadn’t shown up when you did. How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. I looked for you at the party. When I saw you weren’t there and you didn’t answer your phone, I went to find you. You weren’t at your apartment, so I came here.”
He leaned down and pressed a very gentle kiss on her puffy lips, using extra care not to hurt her. “I’ve missed you.”
