“No problem. Shout if you need anything.” He closed the door behind him and drew a breath.
This was going to be fucking hard.
He was stuck here until his team returned. Could be hours or days. Rogue expected him to get information from Molly, but she was weak and traumatized. He pulled his satellite phone from his pocket and checked his messages.
Nothing from the guys.
Frustration ate its way through him like a termite. He didn’t want to be left out—didn’t want to be stuck here, unable to do his job, leaving his team short a man. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and sat on the bed, lacing his fingers together.
Angst burrowed under his skin.
Shit. None of that stuff was what really bugged him. The issue was the petite little blond with wary eyes and bruises—and the effect she had on him.
An effect he couldn’t breathe life into. Couldn’t acknowledge. Not now anyway. Not when she’d been beaten and god knew what else. She’d said she hadn’t been sexually assaulted, but that didn’t mean she was at ease with him.
The door opened, and her waiflike form hovered in the doorway. He was on his feet. Crossing the room, he stayed within reach as she shuffled toward the bed. He pressed his fingertips into his palms so he wouldn’t touch her.
His shirt hung to the middle of her thighs, and she held the waistband of his joggers bunched at her hips. She trembled as she sat on the bed. Her damp hair hung down to her abdomen. She breathed heavily despite having taken only a few steps.
“Time for you to rest.” Catching her beneath the arms, he slid her back so that her head rested on the pillow. Her legs curled as he pulled the blanket out from under her so she could get more comfortable.
She rubbed her eyes and he lifted her other hand, checking the veins. They appeared stronger than earlier, though he didn’t doubt she was still severely dehydrated. “I’d like to try the IV. You all right with that?”
She groaned. “Not really, but I don’t think I can drink all the fluids my body needs right now.”
He smirked. “You’d drown if you tried.” Lifting the bag of saline he’d removed from his bag earlier, he rigged it onto the headboard, then got the tubing situated. He tied a rubber band around her arm. Next, he wiped the back of her hand with an alcohol swab, then removed a hypodermic needle from its packaging.
“This’ll be quick.” He watched her close her eyes and look away.
He pricked the needle into her skin. She didn’t flinch or make a sound. He taped the tube to her arm. “All set.” He gave the saline bag a light squeeze and checked the drip.
She stared up at him, her expression soft and relaxed. Some of the tension in his neck eased. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes heavy.
“Don’t mention it.” He tucked the blanket around her and stood.
She turned her head and was out. Poor thing. Fuck. Tightness cinched his chest. Tomorrow he’d talk to her more. Get her in touch with family or whoever, so she could let them know she was safe.
Meandering over to the armchair positioned between the bed and dining room table, he swallowed a groan. After dropping onto the thin, tattered cushion, he propped his feet on the wobbly coffee table.
Sleep would be shit tonight.
Chapter
Five
Molly twisted beneath the covers. Sweat collected on her skin. Dreams rushed in and out. Angry voices boomed, wrestling her from sleep. A gentle hand on her shoulder calmed her racing heart, and she drifted off again only to jolt awake what seemed like minutes later.
Hot. It was always so damn hot.
Grit filled her mouth, and she sputtered as she tried to swallow. They made her beg for every drop of water. She needed to come up with something to tell Rex before he sold her. Before Rex’s slimy hands found their way under her shirt.
No!
She blinked and looked around the room. A cheap but clean motel. Memories rushed forward. The soldier guy.
Atlas.
She pushed the blankets away from her face and spotted him in the armchair across the room. His huge boots were propped on the coffee table, and one knee was slightly bent to the side. A deep frown creased his brow in his slumber. The flimsy chair looked ready to snap if he so much as moved the wrong way.
