Fuck.
I jumped back just as the bartender burst through the doorway, swinging. I managed to dodge the first one, but another punch glanced off my chin and, for one terrifying moment, the world spun. I fought the vertigo, clinging to the idea of Leighton being within reach and the world managed to right itself. I saw another fist coming and spun around, sliding down as I swung my leg out, sweeping the bartender's legs out from underneath him.
The man landed with a thump, cursing up a storm. I managed to get to him without getting dizzy and drew my gun as I did it. The silencer made the weight slightly different, but it didn't matter as I pressed the muzzle over his heart.
“Where is she?” I kept my voice low.
The man glared up at me, lips pressed tightly together.
“I've killed better men than you,” I said quietly. “I didn't enjoy doing it, and I won't enjoy killing you.” I let him see the truth of it on my face. “But I will do it. Slowly.”
The bartender's eyes widened and I knew he understood that I would do what I said.
“Where is she?” I asked again.
There was only the slightest hesitation and then I saw him make a decision. He jerked his head back toward the stairs. “End of the hall.”
For a minute, I considered still shooting him for what he'd done. But I was a soldier, not a murderer. I slammed the butt of my gun into his temple and his eyes rolled back. I grabbed his belt, yanked it out of his pants and used it to bind his hands and ankles. He wouldn't be comfortable when he woke up, but, hopefully, Leighton and I would be long gone before that. I’d let the police worry about him.
I started for the door again, keeping my gun in hand this time. I pushed the door open, flattening myself against the wall as I counted to ten. Nothing. I slowly crept around until I was heading down the stairs and into a long, narrow hallway.
The door at the end of the hall seemed like it was a thousand miles away, but I didn't rush, no matter how much I wanted to. For all I knew, he'd sent me down here into a trap. If that was the case, I would go back and shoot him.
The door didn't have any windows, so I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but I didn't care. If Leighton wasn't in there, someone who knew where she was would be.
I opened the door a crack and listened. No one yanked the door open; no attack came.
But I did hear something else. Something that threatened to tear my heart out of my chest.
A whimper.
Fuck it.
I pushed the door open and saw Leighton on the cold concrete floor. I rushed toward her, almost dropping my gun before I managed to stuff it back in my holster. She made me forget everything, even my training. All I saw was her.
I dropped to my knees next to her. She was half-bound to a chair, her wrists raw and bloodied. Everything about her was bloody. Her curls were matted, her face swollen. I swore vilely.
“Haze?” Her voice was slurred, but I knew it wasn't from alcohol. I'd sounded like that before.
“Yeah, sweetheart, it's me.” The endearment slipped out, but I didn't try to take it back. “Hold still. I have to cut you free and I don't want to do any more damage.”
I pulled my pocket knife out and cut through the ropes, barely taking the time to put the knife back before I pulled her into my arms, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“I've got you, baby. I'm here. You're safe,” I said as I cradled her in my arms. I didn't care what the future had in store. I wasn't letting her go.
Chapter 5
Haze
As I lowered her into the passenger's seat, her head lolled to the side. I eased the door closed, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping. When I climbed into the driver's seat, however, I realized she was already awake.
“No hospital.”
I didn't look at her as I started the car. “You're hurt. I'm taking you straight to the ER.”
“No.” Her voice was firmer than I would've thought possible. “Just like the first time we met, you're going to take care of me instead of taking me to the hospital.”
My mind jumped back that the first night, relieved to have a happier memory to replace the image of her bruised and battered face. She might have conned me then, that beautiful girl who'd needed someone to keep an eye on her concussion. She'd seduced me in my own hotel room. Not that I hadn't been more than willing.
“Not this time, sweetheart,” I said. “You need a doctor.”
“No hospital,” she insisted. “Paparazzi, remember?”
My throat constricted as I remembered how the photographers and entertainment anchors had swarmed her any time she was spotted. Even if I got her inside the hospital safely, there was no telling how fast word would get out and what disgusting tactics the paparazzi would use to invade her room, hinder her healing.
“Your grandfather will have to hire a private army,” I said. “This isn't a simple concussion I can just keep an eye on. We need to make sure you don't have any broken bones and you'll probably need stitches on your head.”
“Doc Bellamy,” Leighton said. “Lives close to Grandfather. Does house calls for the family when we don't want the media attention. Has an office in his house too, including an x-ray machine.”
“I'll need your grandfather's okay.” I glanced at her, expecting an argument.
Except she wasn't looking at me. She'd passed out. Panic surged in my chest, but I forced my breath to stay steady as I drove and hit Devlin on speed dial.
“Hey, I'm following a lead, but I need to talk to a doctor for it,” I lied smoothly.
“A doctor? What aren't you telling me?” Devlin's voice was sharp.
“Just give me a doctor you know, a name.” I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't ask for details. I could make up something about thinking Leighton had been drugged and that I needed to talk to a doctor about that, but it'd be better if he just answered my question.
“Dr. Bellamy. He's been my family's doctor for years. Up the hill two miles from the house, a big Spanish revival.” Devlin's voice hardened. “You're not fooling me, Haze, and if you don't want me at the Doc's in ten minutes, then you better tell me what is going on.”
Shit.
I knew that tone.
“I found her,” I said it all fast. “She's fine but I want to get her checked out for legal purposes–”
“Lie all you want, Doc will tell me everything,” Devlin said. “And if you don't bring her directly here afterwards I will–”
“Thank me for saving her?” I muttered.
“Just shut up and get our girl home in one piece,” he said.
I hung up the phone and, less than ten minutes later, wasn't surprised when Dr. Bellamy met me in front of his large Spanish revival mansion. He was already rolling up the sleeves of a crisp white shirt, and I realized for the rest of the world it was lunch time on a Tuesday.
“Sorry to interrupt your lunch break, Doc,” I said as I opened my door. “I'm guessing Devlin called?”
The doctor nodded. “How is she?”
He asked the question even as he opened the door to see her slumped in the seat. He checked her gently for any reason I shouldn't move her, and then signaled for me to carry her into the house. The way the doctor walked next to me as if the span of his open arms could keep her from further injury told me we were in the right place. This man wasn't just the family doctor. He was a friend.
“I need to know whatever you know,” the white-haired doctor said as I laid Leighton down on the exam table in his home office.
“It's not much,” I admitted. “She was kidnapped and beaten. Someone trying to scare her and send a message to her family.”
I wrapped my fingers around hers as the doctor started fiddling with something I quickly recognized as a portable x-ray machine.
Suddenly, Leighton's eyes fluttered open. “One of them hit like a ten year old girl. Too bad he had help.”
I laughed from sheer relief and saw some of the color return to Doc Bellamy's face.
I reached up and brushed some of her curls from her battered face. “I'm sure you could have taken him, babe. Just wasn't a fair fight. We'll get you better and then train you up.” I smiled at her and hoped she couldn't read everything I was feeling. “I'm thinking mixed martial arts."
“I'm thinking bed rest and ice packs,” Doc Bellamy countered. He motioned me away from the table.
“But no shaved head, right?” Leighton asked.
“I promise,” he said with a smile.
“You said that last time,” she said.
He grinned. “Hold still. I want to take a couple x-rays, and then we'll get you something for that pain before I start patching you up.”
“What happened last time?” I asked, partly to distract her, but also because I was curious.
“When I was seven, Ian and I were at Grandfather's and Ian pushed me out of a tree.”
“He said you fell,” Dr. Bellamy countered.
“Little punk pushed me.” Leighton's eyes sparked.
I chuckled, relief finally taking over the anxiety.
“Anyway,” she continued the story as the doctor took the x-rays. He motioned for me to stand behind a protective screen. “I bashed the back of my head bad enough to need stitches. Doc here shaved my head to do it.”
“See the gratitude I get?” Doc teased as he pushed the machine aside and reached for a pill bottle. He shook out a couple pills and handed them to Leighton before filling a small cup and giving her that as well. “Take them.”
Her eyes sought mine and I stepped back to her side. “Take them, sweetheart. I'll be here the whole time. Not going anywhere.”
She swallowed the pills as the doctor fussed behind me, I assumed, getting things together for whatever he needed to bandage her up. I didn't look though. Instead, I took her hand, rubbing my thumb across her knuckles. My chest tightened as emotions swelled inside me.
The pain pill started to take effect after just a few minutes, and Leighton's eyelids started to droop. Dr. Bellamy took photographs of her injuries, then set aside his phone, his expression tight as he started to work.
“Ribs are cracked,” he said softly as he pulled up her shirt. The bruises on her side were clear.
“Bastards kicked her.” My free hand made a fist.
Dr. Bellamy nodded as he wrapped her ribs. Neither of us said anything as he moved around the two of us, cleaning her wounds before applying ointment and bandages. I couldn't watch as he pulled out a needle and thread. I wasn't a squeamish person, but it was Leighton's flesh being pierced, being stitched back together.
When he was done, he had me pick her back up and carry her down the hall to what was clearly a guest room. I laid her on the bed, carefully tucking her in. When I turned around, Doc was leaning against the doorframe.
“Devlin said her bodyguard was bringing her to me,” he said as he crossed his arms. “You're not just her bodyguard though, are you?”
Before I had to figure out what in the world to say to that, the hand in mine twitched and I looked down to see Leighton's eyes fluttering open.
“I was blindfolded,” she said. Her words were thick, but understandable.
“Hey, baby, welcome back.”
“Baby,” she giggled.
She was buzzed. This was going to be fun.
“You didn't see who did this to you?” I asked gently. I didn't know what those men had done to her, but I didn't want her to relive it.
“Nope.” She started to shake her head, then winced. Her voice was a bit clearer when she started talking again. “I was blindfolded when the 'boss' came in. He talked with some kind of speaker that altered his voice. If it was a him. Don't know. The other guy wore a ski mask.”
“Don't worry. He's taken care of.”
“Is that how you got the bruise?” The doctor pointed to my chin.
I'd forgotten all about that until he mentioned it. My jaw gave a throb. “Yeah, he clipped me.”
“You should see the other guy?” Leighton asked, giggling, raising her fingers to brush over the spot where I'd been hit.
I brushed my lips across the back of her hand in a light kiss. “You won't ever have to see him again.”
“What about when I report all of this to the police?” she asked, growing more serious. The expression on her face clearly said she was putting up a brave front. “Won't there be a line-up or whatever?” Her body tensed. “And how am I supposed to identify either of them? I was blindfolded and it was dark and...”
Dr. Bellamy put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “No use getting worked up about it. I've documented all your injuries and I’m required by law to report an assault. Let's just start there. You concentrate on resting and getting better.”
She tugged at my hands. “Are you going to take me to the police department after this? Do I have to go right away?”
My heart squeezed. Even cleaned up, the damage she sustained was enough to make me want to commit a felony or two. Her lip was split and swollen, the entire side of her face puffy and already starting to turn black and blue. She'd been dragged through a nightmare, and battered along the way.
And it was my fault.
“I knew you were being threatened,” I said, my voice thick with guilt. “I shouldn't have left.”