Text (Take It Off #4)(16)
Author: Cambria Hebert

She might be tiny, but she was a survivor.

“You did good, sweetheart,” I murmured. “You did real good.”

I felt a shudder move through her and I wanted to gather her even closer. I was tempted to sit down right there on the ground and pull her into my lap and hunch myself around her, to shelter her with my body.

But I couldn’t.

We had to get out of here.

Lex might not be in sight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking.

“We gotta get out of here,” I told her. “Can you walk?”

She stayed curled against me for a minute longer and then she looked up. Even in the darkness, I could see the swelled area of her eye, make out the bruises all over her face.

Cold fury rose up within me and seeped right into my bones. Men who hit women were the lowest of low. There was a special place in hell for SOBs like Lex.

“I can walk,” she said, reminding me that I asked a question.

“Come on,” I said, tucking my arm around her waist. She stiffened and I moved to pull back, but her hand caught mine and pulled it back around her.

She looked up, giving me a sheepish look. “You’re warm.”

My lip lifted in half a smile and then I stopped. I was an ass. I pulled my arms free and quickly pulled off my jacket. “Here,” I said, wrapping it around her.

She sighed like she was in heaven and pushed her arms through. I tried not to be endeared by the fact that the sleeves hung well past her hands, but a guy could only withstand so much.

I reached between us and fumbled with the zipper, finally getting it to catch and then sliding it up right beneath her chin. The black fleece swallowed her whole.

It was cute as hell.

“Come on,” I said gruffly, not really knowing how a woman I just met could climb under my skin so fast.

I told myself it was her bravery, her willingness to fight for her life.

But really, I think it had more to do with how she felt fitted against my side.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” The fear in her voice made her sound vulnerable.

“If he does, I’ll kill him.” The words weren’t meant to make her feel better. Those words were the truth. The next time I saw Lex, I was going to kill him.

It took forever to get back to the Jeep. Honor’s movements began to slow the farther we walked. She held herself stiffly, and I knew she was injured in places I couldn’t see.

This sick, twisty feeling took over my gut as ideas of what he did to her stole my thoughts. I wanted to ask, but I was afraid I would upset her.

“That’s my Jeep up ahead,” I told her when I saw its dark shape come into view.

“Thank God,” she murmured, stumbling a little.

My grip tightened around her waist, trying to keep her from falling. She yelped. I jerked back like I’d been burned.

“What?” I hadn’t been rough.

“Sorry,” she replied, hunching over a bit. “I think my ribs are broken.”

Shit, I’d been holding her around the middle the entire trek back to the Jeep. It had to have been killing her. “Why didn’t you say something?” I said harshly.

Her head swung in my direction. “Because it doesn’t change anything. We have to get out of here.”

She was right. I hated it.

I took her hand, knowing not to touch her middle, but not being able to not touch her at all. I led her to the Jeep where it sat partially concealed by the trees.

Something was wrong…

I squinted at the dark shape of the vehicle again, trying to figure out what wasn’t right. I pulled the flashlight out of my pocket and aimed it at my car.

It was sitting lopsided.

I directed the beam at the tires.

They were slashed.

We weren’t going to be driving anywhere.

15

Honor

As I was staring at the slashed and unusable tires, the sky chose that moment to open and throw down some rain.

Yay.

Nathan’s jacket had warmed me up. The fat icy drops now lunging from the sky were likely going to hinder that a bit.

“Get in,” Nathan said over the roar of the rain, pulling open the driver’s side door and ushering me into the tiny back seat of the Wrangler.

After I was in, he got in the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him. I collapsed against the seat, thinking that being in this cramped Jeep was the most comfortable place I’d ever been. Never mind the seats were vinyl and not all that warm. Never mind the tires were ruined and we couldn’t actually drive anywhere.

In that moment, I was just thrilled to be out of that hole, away from that vile man, and out of the rain.

Everything else was just details.

Right?

Okay, no.

“I don’t suppose you have several spares in the back and not just one?” I asked.

He grunted. “No.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yep.”

“Where do you think he is?” I whispered, the words refusing to come out any louder.

He turned in his seat and looked at me through the dark. I wished it was light enough for me to make out his features. I really wanted to see him. So far, all I could make out was that he was tall and broad with short, dark hair.

“He’s still out there,” he said, grim. I shot at him, but the bullet might have just nicked him because I was moving when I fired. “He’s obviously still pissed too.”

“Because of the tires, you mean?” I guess it was a dumb question. People who weren’t angry didn’t go around slashing other people’s tires.

“Yeah. And because you got away.” He was silent a moment. “Guys like him don’t like to lose. They like to be in control.”

I shuddered a little at his words. My kidnapper was definitely big on control. “I called 9-1-1. I told her my name, but the phone was disconnected.”

“I went to the police too. There was some bad accident out on Route 210. A lot of casualties. The police station was practically empty when I got there.”

“That’s why you came,” I whispered.

“You needed someone fast.”

Yeah, I did. And he came. Emotion swelled up in my chest, choking me up. I swallowed it down. “Thank you,” was all I could manage. Why is it those words never seem like enough?

“You’re welcome.” The reply was a soft whisper that floated to me from the front of the cab. His words were simple too. They were more than enough.

He opened up the center console of the Jeep and pulled out some sort of energy bar. “Here,” he said, handing it back to me.