out?
The suggestion prickled along her nerves. No, she’d thought
herself too capable for that. It was a miracle he’d even heard her scream. She
swallowed the sob itching against the walls of her chest.
“I’m calling the police. Is there anything you need? Anyone
else I can call for you?” John said, helping her back to the rear exit on her
scratched feet.
She clutched her gaping shirt and paused in the doorway.
Her voice shook. “Get me Connor Crowe.”
* * * * *
Connor strode through the corridors of General Hospital,
blood rushing abnormally under his skin. He reached the door, the scene
unfolded before him like re-runs of an old horror show.
Two police officers stood in front of a hospital bed. He
stepped inside and stalked through the room. A nurse hovered over a patient. He
pushed an officer aside.
A woman sat on the edge of the bed. Not a woman, Charlize… A
nurse stood beside her, dabbing at a graze on her cheek. He knew this
scene—knew what had happened. Not by the way she clutched the edges of her
shirt, not by her injuries, but by the tight pinch of her lips. The empty look
in her eyes.
He clenched his jaw, cutting off a budding roar. His hand
moved to his belt before he remembered… He didn’t carry a gun anymore. But some
fucker was still about to die.
A hand clamped on his arm. He snarled.
“Connor, buddy.”
He tore his eyes from Charlize to the officer touching him.
He blinked, snapping back to Earth. “Mark?”
His former partner patted his arm then jerked his head
toward the door. Connor followed him into the hall.
“You looked as if you were about to go Hulk in there. You
know her?”
Mark gave Connor an assessing gaze, eyes narrowed under
thick brows. It was the look. The calm-the-hell-down-partner look. Well they
weren’t partners anymore and Charlize was hurt.
“What the fuck happened to her? Tell me now, Mark, and don’t
be sugar-coating anything.”
Mark sighed. “It’s all right. She managed to get away before
any serious harm was done.”
His body shook. Thank god. “You mean she wasn’t raped?”
“No. Assaulted, roughed-up for sure but not raped.”
Connor’s shoulder thumped against the cold hallway wall and
he rubbed his brow. “Who did this?”
Mark cleared his throat. “Now, Connor, you’re not a
detective anymore. Leave it to us to help your girlfriend.”
Girlfriend? He hadn’t had one of those in a while. It didn’t
matter. For now Charlize was his, whether she agreed to it or not, and no one
would be touching her but him. They could call it whatever the fuck they
wanted.
“No. I need to know who it is if I’m going to protect her.”
Mark sighed. “Connor—”
“Mark—” he countered, a knife’s edge in his voice. “I won’t
go vigilante but I’m keeping her safe.”
Mark hooked his thumb in his belt and glanced into the room.
“It was an employee she gave the boot today, Gregory Craig.”
Gregory Craig . Connor would remember the name
and that fucker would sure as shit remember his once he caught up with him. “You
have him?”
“We’ve sent out a patrol to his house but they haven’t
gotten him yet.”
Connor watched his old partner, saw the pull of his right
cheek. The bastard did that when he was worried. “What’s going on, Mark?”
“We found zip ties at the scene. Must’ve fallen from his car
or he dropped them.” Mark looked back at Connor. “I think it was more than a
revenge sex attack. I think he was going to take her.”
Connor exploded off the wall. “What, you think he was going
to kidnap her?”
Mark grabbed his arm. “Calm down or I won’t be sharing
anything else. Got it?”
Connor rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. Calm down,
he could calm down. He could act calm. He’d be calm when he had Gregory’s
corpse.
He met Mark’s gaze. His partner’s gut had never been wrong. “You
tell me when there are any developments.”
Mark nodded. “Sure I’ll keep you updated. No