Page 291 of Unexpected Hero

He rambles on, “Before they... I swear to you, I tried...” His words trail off.

Unable to resist touching his ashen face, I cup his cheek with my palm. His scruff is longer than it was the last time I saw him.

He covers my hand with his, turns his face into my touch, and kisses my knuckles.

With our bodies moving in unison, we press our foreheads together.

I inhale. For the first time since I took that kick to my ribs, the pain of breathing is gone.

And so I simply breathe him in.

“Sweetness, I’m so sorry. I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

Uncaring how I smell or what I taste like, I need to feel his lips against mine. I rise to my toes and tilt my head back. He gently captures my mouth in the most tender kiss of my life.

From now on, I won’t need the cocoon of our song or the blanket or the secret hole in the wall. He’s my solace. My protection. My comfort.

He’s my home.

All too soon, he stiffens and cups my cheeks. “We need to go, sugar bear. Someone is coming. You’re not safe here.”

I don’t have time to panic before another man makes an announcement. Unlike James, he keeps his face hidden behind the ski mask. “Ladies, listen up. We’ve got three vehicles outside. Pile into the nearest one, and we’ll get you to safety.”

All the mask-wearing men spring into action. Girls are corralled toward the front door. Some of the rescuers seem to be answering questions I don’t hear.

It strikes me for the first time that he’s dressed the same as the other men. They look like cops or the military. I don’t see badges or insignias to designate them as law enforcement.

Is it possible he’s not in IT like he claimed? Maybe these men have something to do with his past in the Army. Or is he still enlisted?

I’ve always had questions about his career. Things that didn’t add up. But it never mattered.

All that mattered was how he loved me.

In the midst of euphoria from our reconciliation and a rushed exit, confusion settles in. I chalk it up to my brain fog and simply hold his hand.

Girls file out, and I attempt to follow. James’s hand in mine starts to slip, so I stop, look over my shoulder at him, and grab it tighter. I’m not ready to let go.

His face is a wreck of emotions, teeth clenching and upper lip curled. As he scans the room, his eyes burn with rage.

Engulfing his hand with both of mine, I tug him toward the door. “James?”

“Which one, Lettie baby?” he forces out.

I shake my head, not understanding his question.

“Which one, Lettie?” he demands again, this time his eyes lock on the faces of the men on the floor. One by one, he pointedly takes them in as if committing their images to memory.“Which one hurt you?”

“All of them,” I answer honestly.

A growl erupts from the pit of his chest. He shakes free of my hands and stomps back into the living room, anger swirling around him like a vortex.

“Kri, come in here and get Violet to the van,” James yells.

Wait. What?

My attention on James is split with the other rescuers as they shout orders and demand we hurry to the vehicles. Two men haul out the girl from the bedroom, the one who was passed out from whatever drugs they’ve given her. She’s still not awake. Maybe we should have used that overdose stuff on her.

Once the men move her limp body past me, my focus returns to James. Realization of what’s about to happen smacks me out of the brain fog.He’s going to hurt them. For me.

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