Page 27 of Unchained

“What do they want with him?” she asked.

The man withered in Brooks’s hold. “Can you let go?”

Brooks’s mouth was a hard line. “No.”

“He’s the only patient so far who’s handled the drug,” he said, wetting his lips. “They’ll never stop looking for you. They need to tweak the medication, and you’re the only surviving candidate, from what I know.”

Brooks cranked his wrist. The man screamed, grappling against Brooks’s hold. Cam winced as the tendons in the man’s arm pushed against the skin, ready to snap. She lowered the gun. “Brooks—”

He didn’t look at her. His gaze stayed locked on the man’s face. His features pinched together.

“I remember you. You’re Tyler. One of the guards who hit me with the dart when I escaped the other night.”

“Yeah, so,” he rasped.

“You also helped Eddie get me in the water chamber.”

Sweat poured down the man’s neck. “I didn’t have a choice.” He cast a nervous glance at his partner. “Nixon, do something!”

“Wrong answer.” Brooks snapped the man’s arm to the side. Bone broke through the skin and blood spurted out in a straight line, smacking the window.

Cam staggered backward. Nausea took hold of her stomach. Pain-filled screams ripped through the air, mixing with her own cries. A scurry of movement made alarm bells screech in her head. A hand closed around her bicep just as her back was pressed hard against a man’s chest. Nixon. She’d taken her eyes off him for a second. Now he had her. He reached for the gun in her fingers. Instinctively, she shoulder-checked him in the chest then swung the butt of the gun into his face.

Smack

Metal bounced off bone. A glowing red mark spread over his cheekbone. He rubbed the spot, his eyes glittering rust-colored embers. She lunged away, but his meaty hand caught her bicep. She cried out as his fingertips dug into her flesh.

“Hey!” Brooks’s voice shook the room.

Nixon swept her in front of his chest again, positioning his knife next to her cheek. Her eyes took in the silvery blade and her knees shook. He wrenched the gun from her fingers. “Get in our van outside and I won’t slice her pretty face off.”

All the heat in her body fell to her feet, leaving a tingling, cold sensation in her limbs. The sharp tip of the knife touched her jaw. She drank in puffs of air through her nose. The faint smell of sweat and blood singed her nostrils. She brought her attention to Brooks. His body was solid as steel, his eyes flaring saucers of rage.

If he charged, she’d be dead.

* * *

Tyler’s howls turned to dull moans. The man at Brooks’s feet was no longer a threat. He stomped over the whimpering form. Fear cloaked Cam’s eyes, stealing away the light that normally exuded from her like a ray of sunshine. The terror tightening her cheeks made his stomach slosh with unease. Her fingernails curled into the fucker’s forearm. Her lips trembled as he approached. His lungs expanded and retracted. His brain fought with his body not to react—not when she could be inadvertently hurt. He balled his hands into fists. The skin on his knuckles pulled. When he got ahold of the sonofabitch, he’d shatter his legs.

“Not another step!” Nixon bellowed, digging the blade harder against Cam’s milky skin. Cam’s gun hung in his hand in front of her chest.

Her eyes bugged out as she rose onto her toes. A small gasp left her lips, almost a plea, and all the restraint in Brooks came undone as he moved forward.

“I mean it! I’ll take off her fucking lips if you try anything.” He slid the blade closer to Cam’s perfectly shaped mouth. Brooks halted. Energy vibrated through his body. Keeping it in check took every ounce of self-control. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Cam get caught in the crossfire.

“If you leave with us now, she won’t get hurt.” Spit flew from his lips.

Brooks lifted his mouth into a sneer. His temper flared. Blood beat against his temples. He wasn’t going back. And he sure as hell wouldn’t let them hurt Cam. “How about you let her go and I won’t break your friend’s neck?” He kicked Tyler until he landed on his face in front of the nightstand. Pressing his foot into the side of Tyler’s neck, Brooks met Cam’s assailant’s eyes dead-on. Tyler twisted and bucked beneath his foot, but his broken arm prevented him from putting up a half-decent fight. Brooks surveyed the blood pumping onto the floor. “I think his bone nicked an artery. You’d better hurry if you want him to live.”

Nixon shifted his gaze from his friend to the front door.

“Let her go,” Brooks said. Steel coated his words. The only reason both men weren’t dead right now was because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his actions harmed Cam. She’d put her life on the line to help him, and he’d see to it she remained safe.

Nixon pushed Cam toward the bed. She stumbled, and her knees hit the mattress before she caught her balance. Brooks forced himself to keep pressure on Tyler’s neck and not run to Cam’s side. Blood trickled down her chin. She sported a red cut below her lip.

A gray haze of fury closed in around Brooks’s eyes, giving him tunnel vision.

“I can’t return without you,” the blond fucker said, his voice a teeter-totter of notes.

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