Page 64 of Killer (Savages 2)


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Then Amelia wasn't looking horrified, she was looking livid. And then whatever control she had on her temper snapped, her face twisting up as she started yelling something at Luis, something that had him moving like a whip, turning and flying across the room back at her. He was a blur before he stopped, his hand raised, curling around Amelia's throat. And I could tell by the way her body jolted and her mouth fell open that he wasn't doing it just to scare her, he was hurting her.

My finger rose to the trigger as Luis started to say something. It took me a second to make sure the shot was right before I squeezed. Even from the distance, I could see the red explode, could see the horror overtake Amy's beautiful features as Luis' body wobbled then fell right at her feet. Her gaze flew toward the window, her eyes huge, her body starting to shake slightly from shock, or fear, or disgust, or all three. And though I knew she couldn't see me, she was looking right at me and she knew I was there.

Two seconds later, the room exploded with Lo, Cash, Wolf, and Breaker. The Hailstorm guys were missing. Lo went right to Amelia, slicing through the ropes at her arms and Amelia collapsed against her. Even from a distance, I could see her body start jolting with sobs. Lo looked over at Wolf who walked over, peeling Amelia out of Lo's arms and picking her up like she weighed nothing more than a down pillow, cradling her to his chest and moving out of the building.

I grabbed the shell, threw the strap of the gun around my back, and flew back down the fire escape, my heart slamming in my chest as I tore down the streets, oblivious to whether or not I was seen, and not fucking caring if I was.

I had just rounded the building when a hand slammed into the center of my chest, knocking out my air and stopping me mid-stride. "Gun and shell," Janie's no-nonsense voice demanded and, seeing as I owed her for the opportunity to take out the bastard who put his hands on what was mine, I dropped the shell into her hand and ripped the gun off my back, before running away from her toward the building where Wolf was walking out with Amelia in his arms, her arms around him, her face buried in his neck.

"Angel," I heard myself say and Amelia jolted, her head lifting and looking for me. Then she was squirming, wiggling in Wolf's arms until he walked up to me and deposited her in my arms.

"Woman," he said, nodding at her, then moving back over toward Lo.

"Get her in the car," Breaker said at my side. "She needs to go to the hospital," he said when I didn't respond. "Look at her head," he pressed. "She needs to get checked out."

"I have a headache," she grumbled up at me, making my heart seize in my chest.

How the fuck was I supposed to let her go?

I leaned down and kissed her between her brows, making the lines there settle and disappear.

I didn't know how.

But I knew I had to.

"Let's go get you some feel-good medicine then," I said, carrying her toward my car and settling her into the passenger side. She was silent when I belted her, her hand covering her eyes, trying to simultaneously block out the sun and ease the pounding there. "Coupla minutes, angelface," I promised her as I got behind the wheel and turned in the direction of the hospital.

I had just parked when her voice filled the car. "You killed him," she said. It wasn't an accusation. It wasn't anything but a recollection of events. There was an unusual emptiness in her tone that I didn't like, a emptiness I knew I put there. Because she knew that part of me existed, but she never got to see it. All she saw was the light, the fun and teasing, the good, the pretty. I had exposed her to my ugly and there was no going back.

"Yeah, baby," I agreed, turning to look at her, waiting for what I knew as coming next.

But she didn't say anything. She nodded tightly, unbuckled, then opened her door. I ran around the car, putting an arm around her, and leading her inside. We were admitted and stashed into a little room off of the emergency room and left there to wait for the doctor. I stood beside the bed that she sat off the side of, her head ducked, her shoulders up by her ears, flinching at any noise around us.

Finally, not able to take the silence anymore, I started, "Amelia..."

But the door opened and the doctor walked in, middle aged and portly, his glasses low on his nose. "Miss. Alvarado," he said, looking up at her. "How'd you get that nasty cut?" he asked, trying to sound casual but I could feel his eyes searching me, trying to determine if I was the girlfriend-abusing type, as if there was a type.

I opened my mouth to answer, skirting the actual facts, but keeping it as honest as possible when Amy's head popped up, she looked the doctor dead in the eye, then lied better than most criminals I knew. "I was mugged."

The doctor's head jerked. "In broad daylight?"

"I'm not from around here," she said, letting a little more Southern twang slip into her words and one look at the doc, I could see the sweetness of it was melting him. "I didn't know it was a bad area and I was walking down the street and I heard someone behind me and I freaked and went down the next side street, but it wasn't a side street, it was an alley and they..."

The doctor's eyes slid to me, "Can we have a minute?"

"No."

"It's okay," Amelia said, shaking her head. "He can stay. They didn't..." she swallowed hard and it looked like it hurt, the bruises starting to darken around her throat, "rape me. They just grabbed my neck then stole my purse and, um, slammed me against the wall."

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