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Anger bit into Sawyer like a sharp blade while he examined his battered sister. So sweet, so tiny, and so young—she had turned twenty-two only three weeks ago. He was eleven years older, and he had always tried to protect her. His parents hadn’t planned on having a second child—given his mother’s endometriosis, they had thought that conceiving again after Sawyer’s birth would have been impossible. They were shocked when they found out about her pregnancy, but Sawyer was overjoyed that he’d have a playmate, even if it was a much younger sister.
“He’ll be arrested.” Sawyer gently rubbed his mother’s back. “Don’t doubt that.”
“How will she recover from this? My poor baby…”
His mother’s despairing voice made Sawyer vividly imagine pummeling Travis. Sawyer rejected the thought; as a member of the police force, sworn to serve and protect, he had to let justice be served through the law. Having served in the military and now as a member of Las Vegas’s SWAT team, however, he’d found that sometimes his morals got in the way of what his heart wanted to do, and right now what his heart wanted was to make Travis feel pain.
He held on to his mother tightly, feeling her trembling beneath his arms, and it made Sawyer realize just how Travis had broken into a happy life full of happy memories. In his line of work, he often saw people who experienced horrific childhoods. Not Sawyer and Ashlyn. Their dad, a white-collar worker, had al
ways exceeded the role of a father. His mother, a stay-at-home mom, lived through her children. Travis had brought darkness into the Quinn family.
Sawyer wouldn’t forget that.
A sound of someone clearing his throat came from the hospital room’s doorway, making Sawyer turn. He saw a fellow Dom and good friend, Kyler Morgan. Tall and muscular beneath his police uniform, Kyler radiated power.
A coil of tension escaped Sawyer, as Kyler was precisely the man he needed to see tonight. He gave his mom a final hug, then pulled away. “I need to speak to Kyler for a minute. Go be with Ashlyn. She needs you.”
“Yes. She needs me.” His mother sounded robotic, not thinking, only acting.
As she sat down in the chair beside the bed and reached out to hold Ashlyn’s hand, his father greeted Sawyer’s friend, then asked his son, “Shall I come with you two?”
“Stay with Ashlyn and Mom. We’ve got this.” Determination sent Sawyer walking forward, and Kyler followed him out into the hallway. A few doors down, far enough away to keep any conversation between him and Kyler private, Sawyer stopped and ran his hands over his face, feeling a bit defeated. Fucking unbelievable. An hour ago, he’d been teaching a less-skilled Dom the art of suspension in an erotic playground. But one phone call had changed everything.
“Fuck, man,” said Kyler. “I’m sorry this happened. What have you learned from your sister?”
“Nothing yet.” Sawyer lowered his hands, staring into Kyler’s compassionate blue eyes. “They have her sedated.” Images of his sister fighting for her life blasted through his mind, making his insides shake. “She’s fucking beaten to a bloody pulp. It’s clear that Travis didn’t want to kill her—he wanted her to hurt.”
Kyler leaned against the cement wall, thrusting a hand through his light brown hair. “I’ve learned from the cop who arrived on the scene that Ashlyn managed to get herself into the bathroom and locked the door. She told the nine-one-one operator that her boyfriend attacked her.”
The rage Sawyer felt earlier only intensified, making him hungry for vengeance. He shut his eyes, breathing deeply. No training in the world could have prepared him for this. Only when he was finally able to control the wrath bursting into him did he reopen his eyes. “Thank God the cops got to her in time.”
Kyler nodded. “From what I hear, they arrived within five minutes of her call—fortunately, there was a squad car in the area. The 911 operator said she heard him trying to break down the bathroom door. Apparently he did, but when he did, he saw Ashlyn was on the phone, and he immediately fled the scene.”
“The fear she must have felt…” Sickness roiled through Sawyer’s stomach, forming a heavy rock. Restless, he began to pace the hospital hallway. “Have you got an APB out on him?”
“Already done,” Kyler confirmed. “We sent his photo to law enforcement agencies within a three-hour radius. We’ll find him.”
“The fucker’s probably gone into hiding.” Sounds became dull in comparison to the thumping of Sawyer’s heart banging against his chest. “He’ll have to come out at some point. And when he does…”
“He’ll be arrested.”
The statement hung thick in the air. Sawyer pondered which he wanted more: to arrest Travis or to face the fucker himself. Deep down, he knew what needed to be done. He couldn’t get into a deadly fight with the asshole. That wouldn’t benefit his sister. “Yeah, he’ll be arrested.”
Muscles twitching with frustration, Sawyer rubbed his palms over his eyes. When he lowered them, he spotted his police chief, Kyler’s father, Andrew Morgan. His boss approached them, passing by the hospital rooms with a steady gait. In his late fifties, with a fierce stare and wise blue eyes, Andrew was a fit man—and an honorable one, too.
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister,” said Andrew. He wore a baseball cap and casual clothes, not his uniform, and told Sawyer that he had come from home to pay his respects. “Has Ashlyn woken up yet?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Not yet.”
“How badly was she injured?”
“Broken bones in her face and a few broken ribs.” Sawyer recalled what his father told him when he first arrived at the hospital. “Stitches in her lip and the back of her head.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kyler bit out.
Sawyer’s strength drained out of him; listing her injuries aloud made the situation even more real. He dropped down into a chair that was sitting up against the wall, loathing how helpless he felt.
Andrew’s firm hand squeezed Sawyer’s shoulder. “Take time off to be with your sister. I’ve informed your SWAT captain that you’re on short leave. Let’s start at two weeks. If you need more time, call me.”
