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“Get the Taser!”
Shade’s face snapped to the side, his eyes narrowing. Keeping one gentle hand on me, he reached out and grasped some man in a suit by the collar, yanking him closer. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him. That fucker is getting everything he deserves for laying a hand on her.” With a hard shove, Shade launched the agent across the room.
His angry features softened when he turned back to me. “Baby, can you hear me?”
I nodded, wincing at the pain that flared from my neck.
“Trap,” Shade barked. The commotion just out of sight stilled. “She’s awake. Time to go.”
“I don’t think so. You two—”
“Protected me when you didn’t,” I said, voice cracking.
With Shade’s help, I pushed up to my elbows and shifted to finally get a good look at what happened behind me. Blood poured from Barrett’s nose and mouth. A cut marked his cheek, though he wasn’t knocked out. No, his rage-filled eyes were locked on me from where he was crumbled on the floor.
I turned back to Agent Carleigh. “If you don’t let us walk out of here, I will sue the FBI for injuries sustained while meeting, on-site, with a criminal you assured me was nonviolent.”
His nostrils flared, and I knew I had them.
“Get me off the table, please,” I rasped at Shade. Like I was made of glass, he slowly helped me to the floor, not releasing my waist, which was great since the room spun. “Let’s go home.”
Trap turned his attention to Barrett, reared his foot back, and kicked him in the ribs before reaching for me. I interlaced our fingers and started for the door.
When we passed Barrett, I paused and stared down at him.
“My answer is no. You will pay for everything you did to me, to our family, and to the company. Tell them what they want to know. That’s how you can lessen your sentence. Goodbye, Barrett. I hope you fucking rot in prison and end up as some sadistic bastard’s bitch.”
With that, I continued down the hall. Once we were out of sight, I let the weight of what happened hit me. My knees buckled first, my vision swirling as I collapsed into strong arms that scooped me up like I weighed nothing.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
Knowing I was safe, I snuggled against Shade’s chest.
TWENTY-ONE
GEORGIA
Bored and still on edge, I absentmindedly flipped through the TV guide. Not finding anything interesting, I slammed my thumb onto the Power button on the remote and tossed it across the bed like it offended me.
Shade peeked up, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his furrowed brows.
“I’m fine.” I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, thousandth time since we left the FBI office hours ago.
“You almost died.” I struggled to not roll my eyes. That was a little dramatic from my perspective. “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—” He cut himself off with a sharp headshake. The chair he’d pulled beside the bed groaned as he leaned forward, pressing both forearms against the edge of the mattress. “Do you need anything?”
“A stiff drink?” I hedged, hope lifting my tone while I batted my lashes. “You two did promise me one before”—I waved a dismissive hand—“everything.”
He mimicked the move. “Everything changed the moment that bastard put his hands on you.”
Lips pressed in a full fake pout, I crossed both arms, pushing my breasts tighter against my white tank top, drawing Shade’s gaze. He licked his lips hungrily before wrenching those dark eyes away to stare at the boring wallpapered wall of our hotel room.
A groan rattled in my throat as I tapped the back of my head against the headboard in frustration.
The two overprotective men hadn’t let me move from the bed since they rushed me inside the hotel room that morning. They made me eat lunch in bed, forced gallons of water down my throat—like that would help anything—and called in a favor to a doctor to inspect the damage Barrett inflicted. He just left about forty-five minutes ago and thankfully gave me a good bill of health. No permanent damage from Barrett’s hold, just bruising around my throat and spots where I’d collided with the table. Add in the scrapes and bruises from the attack in Grandger and I was splattered black and blue.
The best part of his visit was heavy-duty ibuprofen he’d brought along and left behind, which turned the insistent throbbing headache to a barely noticeable pulse. Which meant them demanding I stay in bed and let them do everything for me was not needed.
Appreciated, but not needed.
