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I ducked under his guard, landing a solid hook to his ribs and propelling him toward the wall. For just a few moments, I had the upper hand, landing a series of blows to his kidneys. With a snarl of rage, he shoved me back, propelling me into the adjacent wall hard enough to crack the sheetrock and drive the breath from my lungs.
Hooking an arm around his neck, I squeezed, trying to lock Hector down. But he twisted, elbowing me hard in the ribs. Pain shot through my torso, but I held on, grimly aware of every ticking second as the fire spread ever closer to Caroline, who hadn’t stirred in that chair.
Hector tripped over one of the wooden teepees, taking us both to the floor, where we rolled, trading blows in a frenzy. He fought like a cornered animal, desperate now to escape before the fire he’d set claimed more than his daughter’s life. I fought just as hard to stop him.
Smoke was already filling the room, and I gasped for air, struggling to keep my focus. Shards of glass dug into my knees as I rained punches on Hector’s face, striving for that knockout.
In the distance, I could hear other vehicles approaching. And the moment of distracted relief lost me everything. Hector rolled, getting both hands around my throat and squeezing. My vision began to blur, gray creeping in at the edges. I only had one chance to get out of this. One chance to save Caroline.
Gripping his shirt in both hands, I used all the strength I had left to throw him up and over me, through the broken French door. Hector crashed through it. The rickety railing splintered beneath the weight of his body, and he went tumbling off the edge with a scream. That scream cut off abruptly with a sickening crunch.
I scrambled up, shouting, “Fire!” to whoever had arrived below. There was no time to fight the blaze. No time to contain the spread. I had to get Caroline out. Her head was still bowed. Carefully, I lifted it, checking the wound on her temple. At my touch she roused, jerking her head away, eyes peeling wide, a muffled scream sounding behind the gag.
“It’s okay. It’s me!”
Her gaze focused in, and for a moment, relief lit those beautiful brown eyes. Then she spotted the flames, and everything turned to panic.
“I’m going to get you out.” I coughed the words through the increasing smoke.
The bastard had zip-tied her to the chair. I struggled to break the ties, wondering if I could just take her out, chair and all, when people rushed into the room. Rios was in the lead, and he opened up with a fire extinguisher. Sawyer was right behind, kneeling beside me and slicing through Caroline’s restraints with a pocketknife.
Ford came hustling up the stairs, another fire extinguisher in hand. “Fire department and police are on their way. Get her the hell out!”
I hauled ass out of the room, downstairs, and straight out of the house. For just a moment, I drew up short as I spotted Hector’s body sprawled in the seagrass, his neck and both legs bent at an unnatural angle.
Deal with it later.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Maybe they’d get here in time to save the house. Maybe they wouldn’t. I’d saved the most important thing. I hurried around and down the steps, laying her in the grass on the other side of the house and tugging down her gag.
She coughed, her whole body convulsing. But she was alive.
“Hoyt.” The rasp of my name on her lips was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.
“Yeah, baby. I’m here.”
“You came.”
As emergency vehicles barreled into the driveway, I cupped her cheek, careful not to touch the purpling bruise. “Yeah, and I always will.”
Gabi and Rios dropped to the grass beside us. They each reached for Caroline, wrapping her in their arms. Despite the continued coughing, Caroline held on. Gabi was sobbing, and Rios looked as if he wished he could bring Hector back just to kill him all over again. Over the top of his sisters’ heads, he met my gaze and offered a grim nod of thanks.
So he did realize. Hell, given when he arrived, he might even have seen the fall.
Something else to deal with later.
As she caught her breath, Caroline looked at her siblings, her eyes drenched with pain. I couldn’t imagine the devastation of what she’d just been through. Of having her father—even if he had been an abusive son of a bitch—try to kill her in cold blood. Twice.
Tears spilled over, and she tightened her grip on them both. “He killed Mom.”
28
Caroline
With gentle hands, Pete Novak finished applying a second butterfly bandage. “Well, there’s no question you have a concussion. But you don’t need stitches. All in all, you were pretty lucky.”
Lucky.
A lot of emotions were tangled inside me, underneath the weighted blanket of shock, but I wasn’t sure lucky was one of them. At the corner of the house, I spotted the police rolling a gurney and a black body bag around to where Hector still lay. Now that the fire was out, they were dealing with what came next.
