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He threw open the door. “Belle!”
A low groan sounded somewhere near his feet. The space was almost pitch black. The blinds were drawn on the windows so only a glimmer of the lights from outside permeated the shadow.
Quickly, he yanked out his phone and used the flashlight to illuminate the space.
His heart clutched. Belle lay on her side, bound hand and foot. The side of her face was covered in blood.
She managed another moan, and he sprang to action. Shifting the phone and weapon to one hand, he scooped her up around the back with the other and let her legs dangle over his opposite arm.
“I got you. I got you, baby.” He didn’t even recognize his own voice as he jumped to the ground with her cradled as gently against his chest as he could.
He rushed Belle to the chopper, passing his teammates who had Ethan and Haileigh lying on the ground with their hands behind their heads without even a single shot fired.
Modeen was at his side. “Lay her on the floor. Now cover her up with that thermal blanket. I’ll get the gag off her.”
His movements were jerky from the fury pounding through his system. All that adrenaline had been swirling in his blood like gasoline. As soon as he dumped it on the flames, there would be no stopping the rage inside him.
“Let me take a look at her, Dec. I’m a trained medic,” Modeen said.
He met Modeen’s gaze and then swung it back to Belle—bleeding, bound and battered.
Then he whirled around and took off running. Before Noah could stop him, he was on the ground with Ethan under his fists. Bone crunched beneath his knuckles. He only got two hard blows in before he felt the man lose consciousness.
“Declan! Enough!” Noah’s sharp order broke through his haze of anger. He shoved to his feet and swung his boot back to deliver a kick to Ethan’s gut.
Noah dragged him backward before his foot ever connected. “Stop. He’s out cold. Go to Belle—she needs you now!”
He turned for the chopper and ran back to his woman.
In the bright glow of lights, he looked down at her face. Her eyes were open, fixed on him.
Tenderly, he cupped her face. “No one is ever going to lay a hand on you again. Except me. And that’s going to be in the name of love.”
ChapterFifteen
“No concussion.”
Belle was looking at Declan when the doctor walked into the ER and made the announcement. His eyes drifted closed, and he brought her hand that he clasped in his to his lips.
When he opened his eyes, he focused on the doctor. “Thank you. Belle is lucky.”
And she was. Only ten stitches. No concussion. Just some bruises and bumps that would heal in no time at all.
She squeezed Declan’s fingers. She also had one hell of a man.
The doctor nodded at her. “We’ll send you home with something for pain. The nurse will be back to release you and give you care instructions.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Her voice was a little hoarse from screaming, so she cleared it.
As soon as the doctor left her alone with Declan, she met his stare. His gaze shifted upward to her forehead where fresh stitches and a bandage over them rested.
He chafed her knuckles with his callused thumb. “I hate that you were hurt.” His voice dipped low.
“I’m all right, Declan.” She eyed him. “I think what’s more important is what comes next.”
He stilled. “I suppose you want to know how I showed up on that road with a chopper and a team of men prepared to fight for your life.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
