The rest of his brothers fanned out, taking guys to the ground while Saint’s gaze swept the warehouse.
Saint turned right, rifle at the ready, and stopped dead in his tracks. Beth sat, tied to a chair, tears in her eyes, staring at him. He dropped the gun and rushed to her, falling to his knees beside the chair.
“Baby,” he whispered, cupping her bruised face between his hands. He wanted to crush her to him in a fierce hug, but couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, but there was a wheeze quality to her voice.
She was most definitelynotokay.
He was most definitelynotokay.
He leaned in and brushed the gentlest of kisses across her swollen lips before resting his forehead on hers.
“Told them they were a bunch of stupid fuckers for thinking this plan would ever work,” she said with a weak chuckle.
“Jesus, Beth.” That explained the bruises. Demo sure as fuck wouldn’t have appreciated that.
“Sorry,” she said. Her laugh turned slightly hysterical. She was probably in shock. “You’re not in love with a delicate flower.”
“Fuck no, I’m not. I’m in love with a badass.”
She kissed him this time, wincing as she pressed her sore lips against his.
“Can… can you please cut me out of this chair?”
“Fuck yes.” He released her and grabbed his knife from its holster, slicing through the zip tie on her hands first. It was so goddamn tight, she hissed in pain as he tugged on the plastic. “Sorry, baby. Those fuckers put it too goddamn tight.”
“It’s okay. Just get it off.”
As soon as he freed her hands, he helped her bring her arms to the front of her body. Beth did a good job hiding her pain. Someone who didn’t know her inside and out might buy her tough-as-nails routine, but Saint knew she was hurting. He kissed her fingertips, afraid to touch the raw and bloody circle around her wrists or the ruined skin on her palms.
“Someone needs to find Melody,” Beth said as he cut the ties on her legs. “She was with me on the way here, but I don’t know what they did with her.”
“Okay, we’re on it.”
“Saint, she’s pretty fucked up. They beat her badly. I’m worried about her.”
Of course, she was. Beth was too fucking good. Too good for him, but she was stuck with him now.
“One of the guys will get her. I want you out of here…now.” He scooped her into his arms.
“Saint! I can walk,” Beth said as he started for the exit.
“Don’t care.” Maybe she could walk, but her breathing sounded off, and he wasn’t taking any chances.
She sighed and relaxed into his hold, resting her head on his chest. “What about Demo? I thought for sure you’d come charging in here on a mission to kill him.”
“I did.” He’d had every intention of killing that fucker. Still did, given the chance.
“So why didn’t you go after him?”
“Because you’re a million times more important.” One look at Beth and he knew where his priority lay. “I’ll get my chance with him.” He had no doubt one of his brothers would keep Demo on ice just for Saint. Unless, of course, he wasn’t allowed near the club.
Saint strode outside with Beth in his arms. She closed her eyes against the harsh sun. As he strode toward a truck one of the prospects drove over, his gaze met Copper’s.
The president’s gaze landed on his daughter’s swollen face, the blood on her lips, the way she curled into Saint as if she might shatter. His expression shifted from fury to something colder. Something lethal.
Demo was a dead man.
