His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(134)
Author: Shayla Black

“I lost her.” His voice sounded gravelly and raw as he sank to his knees.

Standing right beside him, Sean helped him to his feet again. “You don’t know that for sure. It’s possible that explosion is meant to deter the agents or she wasn’t near the actual blast.”

“Bullshit!” He whirled and focused all his disbelief and fury on Sean. “You said yourself they’d rigged the whole compound to blow. An explosion that big is the whole fucking place going up in flames. They committed mass suicide and took her with them. She’s dead. And I fucking didn’t stop it.” He pointed to himself. “I took her from her bed and I dragged her into this shit—”

“She would have died days ago in Houston if you hadn’t abducted her. I know it’s awful. I know you’re angry. I wish I could say something to change that. Maybe . . . it was just her time. You did the best you could.”

“It wasn’t good enough.” He beat his chest. His eyes stung. “I never let myself care because the pain of loss is too fucking difficult to bear. She slipped under my guard . . . Her and those dancing shoes, those blue eyes, her big fucking heart . . . The one goddamn time I let myself care, I led her right to her death. She’s probably up in heaven right now hating me.”

God, the pain was enough to implode him.

Joaquin dropped his face into his hands. Shockingly, tears fell. They pricked his eyes like a dozen needles, scalded his cheeks like trails of flame. When he swiped them away, more of the fuckers just tumbled. Why wouldn’t they stop? How the hell did he shut this down? How could he get back to being numb and alone, not giving a shit about anything or anyone?

“She’s not hating you.” Sean tried to console him. “I won’t give you false hope. She’s likely gone. But the Bailey I knew cared about you too much and wouldn’t want to see you hurting.”

Joaquin heard the man. Sean might even be right. But he just couldn’t take more solace now. Maybe not ever. He didn’t deserve it. “Go the fuck away.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“Do it. Just fucking do it!” He clenched his fists. “I don’t want you. And don’t send Hunter. I don’t want anyone. Do you fucking hear me?”

“Stop this, man! You can’t bury yourself with—” Sean stopped, looked at something over his shoulder, then charged past him.

Joaquin turned. Silhouetted against the sun now kissing the horizon ran a slender woman with a beam of light shining from a flashlight in her hand, her long hair blowing wildly in the breeze, glinting with a hint of gold. He knew the outline of that face, of that body. Dirt smeared across one cheek. Blood pooled on her chest.

He blinked. His jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. He was hallucinating. She was a ghost. Something.

But she kept coming closer.

“Bailey?” His voice came out no louder than a whisper.

She nodded, sucking in a sobbing breath, then ran for him. He crept closer, still stunned with disbelief.

She crashed into him, throwing her arms around him and nestling her head on his shoulder. Her chest heaved with another sob and she curled closer as if she took comfort in his nearness.

Joaquin stood unmoving. Tears still rolled down his face.

Sean spoke into his radio, telling the agents that Bailey had escaped the blast.

Seconds later, Caleb and Hunter jogged onto the scene. Hunter pulled her away and held her by the shoulders. He and his father asked questions. Yes, she was mostly unharmed. McKeevy had definitely been in the compound. So had the disk with the research, as far as she knew. Sadly, there had been other people inside, including women and children. Bailey began crying again and Hunter pulled her in close, soothing her.

Joaquin stood, unblinking. Thank God she was alive. For that miracle, he could kiss the ground, repent all his sins, and be grateful every day for the rest of his life.

But he couldn’t endure the agony of losing her again.

Within minutes, a slew of black SUVs roared up to the scene. A horde of agents climbed from their vehicles and charged toward her. They would take her away now. They would ask hours of questions. She would be in far better hands than his.

Hunter and his father shadowed her protectively as the feds asked many of the same questions the Edgington men already had. Joaquin watched, shock and pain still reverberating through his system.

Sean sidled up to him. “Go to her. She’s going to need your strength.”

“I don’t have any to give her,” he mumbled, unable to take his eyes off her. Even after a harrowing near-death experience, she still had to be the most graceful, beautiful woman he’d ever seen.