Page 88 of Protected from Torment

“Mel.” His hands frame my face as his gaze moves across it. “I wanted you to stay hidden. Safe. I couldn’t have done this otherwise. I needed to know—” His voice catches. “Shit. They came for me. This⁠—”

His expression jolts as his eyes come to my lips. Brushing his thumb across them, he says, “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. I just bit my cheek.”

“Shit.” His face collapses. “Shit, Mel. You’re hurt.”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not.” Pain slashes across his face. “You’re hurt. The car crash. And—” His gaze drops to the gun still clutched in my hand. “The gun. I know you hate them.”

“It’s alright.” I watch as Tyler gently takes the gun from me and sticks it in his waistband. “I understood.” Searching his gaze, I ask, “Are you really okay?”

He’s dismissive. “I’m fine. But you…” He hugs me to his chest. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Glancing over his shoulder, I look at the two men restrained on the ground. “What about them?”

Tyler turns and tucks me into his side. Then he glares at the two men who tried to kill us. The shorter one is blinking dazedly, but the taller one is fully alert. “They’re going to tell me everything they know. Who hired them. When. And if I like their answers, maybe I’ll turn them over to the police.”

The alert man looks at Tyler with alarm. “What do you mean, maybe?”

Tyler levels a murderous look at him. “Your buddy was right. I was Special Forces. But he was wrong about the other part. I may have lost my leg, but I’m far from a cripple.” He pauses. “You hurt my girlfriend. You could have killed her. So maybe I’ll turn you over to the police.” His voice dips threateningly. “Or maybe I’ll just deal with you myself.”

The man whimpers.

Tyler turns back to me. “Maybe it would be better if you waited a little ways away. I need to talk to these guys, and I’d rather you didn’t see…”

“No.” I squeeze as close to him as I possibly can. “I’m staying right here. And whatever you need to do to make them tell the truth?” My chin lifts. “They deserve it.”

CHAPTER 17

TYLER

I can’t stop seeing Melissa’s terrified face.

It’s superimposed over everything.

My laptop screen. The security monitors in the control room. My teammates’ concerned faces when they ask if everything’s okay. The window above the kitchen sink that looks out onto what used to be one of my favorite views of the property. Everywhere I look, the memory haunts me.

I can’t even look at Mel without thinking about how badly I failed her.

She hasn’t said it. No, Mel wouldn’t. She’s far too kind for that.

But we both know it. Everyone knows it. Because of me, Melissa was almost killed.

Some protector I am.

As my feet pound across the trail that cuts through the Blade and Arrow property, I push myself harder. Faster. My lungs strain from the exertion. Sweat trickles down my forehead and into my eyes, making them sting. My leg throbs with pain from pushing it too hard, but I can’t bring myself to slow down.

Pain is the only thing that comes close to silencing the scornful voice in my head. The voice that keeps reminding me, You promised to protect her. And instead, you nearly got her killed.

I wish I could refute it. But I can’t.

After all my talk of how safe it would be here, how it would be the perfect place for Melissa to regroup, it proved to be the most dangerous place of all.

Actually, that’s not true. She’s perfectly safe at Blade and Arrow. She’s just not safe with me.

My friends claimed it could have happened to any of them. “We help put away some terrible people,” Rafe said during our team meeting the other day, “and unfortunately, that brings an element of risk. We thought we were protected by anonymity. Now we know we need to take more precautions.”