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“What the fuck?” he mutters. “Ow!”
When I open my eyes, the knife is against my throat, and there is blood dripping from the smoking hole in his shirt. A hole that extends beneath the fabric.
Blake recovers much quicker than I do. With his next inhale, he’s behind me, the knife biting against my skin and his fingers unsteady.
“Don’t come any closer!” he calls out.
His breath is hot on the side of my face, burning my eyes as if someone flung acid at me.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you out of here? After what you’ve done?”
My heart leaps to attention at those words, at the man speaking them, and a half second later, Devan steps up. His shoulders block the light from the window, casting his harsh features in shadow. He’s half hunched over, but his trigger finger is strong.
Hope flares to life inside of me before dying when the blade presses closer.
“One more step, and I’ll slice her throat,” Blake warns.
Devan.
I’m not sure if I say his name out aloud or if it’s only in my head. He gives nothing away, and damn it, but his hand doesn’t shake, either.
“Touch her again,” he says, “and I’m going to show you how much worse life can be than death. You’ll pray for a sweet release.”
“Want to make a bet?” Blake digs the serration into my throat, and I don’t dare swallow.
“Yes, actually. I do.”
My eyes burst open.
The next few seconds are a blur of activity. Blake isn’t a betting man. He growls, drawing his hand back to prepare to slice through me and turn me into the headless horsewoman. He never gets the chance. There’s a sharp buzz of sound, and then he’s jerking, twitching before the knife falls from his limp fingers, and Blake sags to the ground.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Jasleen is there, cutting through the ropes. She stops, stashes the taser, and continues her work as Devan steps up. His eyes bore into mine, and my lower lip trembles.
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” I whisper.
“Are you out of your mind?”
He kicks Blake for good measure, grunting when the movement tears open his stitches, and blood immediately darkens his shirt. The second my arms are free, I fall at Devan. Knowing he’ll catch me, which is exactly what he does before he cups my face and kisses me, both of us on our knees.
Both of us torn down.
“You stupid man. You ripped your stitches. What are you doing out of bed?”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against me. “I am so fucking sorry I let this happen.”
Jasleen has got Devan’s cuffs out, and Blake maneuvered into a position to actually use them. He’s out for the count, all those voltages of electricity in his system.
“Mind sharing the taser? I’ve got a little payback I’d like to bestow right against his taint,” I get out.
Devan chuckles. “Sweetheart, the others won’t be here for another five minutes. If you want to play, I won’t blame you one damn bit.” He recoils, flinching and pressing a hand to his side.
But he refuses to let go of me, and when he pulls me closer with his opposite arm, I don’t argue or protest. I wrap my fingers in the fabric of his coat and let him cradle me close.
“I’m a mess.” The words are a sob. “I stink. And we need to get you back to the hospital.”
The warmth of his palms seeps into me. “I don’t care.” He kisses me all over, every inch of my face. “You’re alive. We made it in time. Trust me, when we get him taken care of, he’s rotting in the back of the cruiser while you and I get checked out.”
Hysterical laughter burns to erupt, and I swallow it down. “How did you find me?”
