Page 25 of Fighting for Ella

12:26 A.M.

Rage cloudedhis vision as he slammed open the door to the bathroom and saw Ella shoved up against the wall with one of the guards pinning her in place.

She was seconds away from being raped and fighting with everything she had to give.

Pride for her warred with his fury toward the man attempting to violate her.

Even if he’d been armed with a weapon he could use without drawing attention to the situation, Miguel would have wanted to use his bare hands for this. There was a protective and bloodthirsty part of him that wanted to know he’d killed the man trying to take something from Ella she didn't want to give with nothing but what God gave him.

Drunk out of his mind if the smell was anything to go by and preoccupied with his desire to get himself inside the helpless woman at his mercy, the other man didn't even notice Miguel approaching him until his hands were wrapped around his neck.

The guard fought clumsily and uncoordinated, but he fought, even reaching for his weapon at one point. But he was no match for Miguel and the anger raging inside him.

Slowly the man’s attempts at fighting for his life dwindled until he was nothing but dead weight. Still, Miguel struggled to unclamp his hands from around the man’s neck even though he was dead and no longer a threat.

This man had tried to hurt Ella.

That enraged him in a way he’d never experienced before.

He loved women, he had fun with them, unlike his brother, he didn't go back to the same woman more than once, and it was only ever one night. He’d never felt anything even remotely close to what he already felt for Ella toward any other woman.

She’d been prepared to sacrifice everything for her family.

Including her own life or her freedom.

Even though it terrified her, she had walked into the lion’s den with nothing other than hopes and prayers that her plan would work.

Ella reminded him so much of his brother Luis, who bravely took on the role of protector when they were kids. Who had done whatever he had to do to make sure they had food to eat, who had taken beatings to spare him, who had devised a plan—albeit a terrible one—to get them a better life. One that had wound up working just not in the way Luis had thought it would.

His brother was a protector, he was brave, and he did what he had to do without complaining, just like Ella had. Miguel couldn’t remember a time when he hadn't looked up to his big brother and hadn't wanted to be just like him. Now he couldn’t not look at Ella with an air of awe. Her bravery was impressive,and while he wished she’d found a way to clue in her team so she hadn't walked into this mess alone, he respected that she had prioritized her family over herself, while still remaining true to her Prey people.

Now he’d let her down.

Hadn't been there when she needed him.

Standing there shivering, torn panties hanging tangled around her ankles, the dress he’d had to force himself to let her wear to dinner when all he’d wanted to do was cover her properly so Raul wouldn't be leering at her disheveled, Miguel was confronted with just how badly he’d failed.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he murmured as he finally forced his fingers to uncurl and dropped the dead body of the guard at their feet. Taking a tentative step toward her, he lifted a hand, intending to palm her cheek and brush away the black tracks of mascara mixing with her tears and trailing down her cheeks. At the last moment, he dropped his hand to his side. After what she’d almost endured, it was presumptuous to assume she’d want anyone touching her right now.

Ella’s gaze was locked on the dead body of her assailant, her chest beginning to rise and fall more sharply as her breathing increased to the point where she was almost hyperventilating.

Knowing he had to calm her before she completely lost control if he wanted any hope of getting her out of there alive and in one piece, Miguel nudged her chin with a single knuckle, keeping the contact brief, just enough to draw her attention. When she looked away from the body, he offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“You did good, honey. I'm proud of you, but I need you to hold it together. Can you do that for me?” He knew she could, but at the moment, what he knew didn't matter. Ella had to know she was strong enough to compartmentalize long enoughfor him to get them out of there. While he could handle the situation with her hysterical it would make it a whole lot harder.

Before his eyes, he watched as she locked her gaze onto his. When she lifted a trembling hand, he had no idea what she intended to do with it until she tentatively rested it on his chest, above his heart, and he realized she was trying to slow her breathing by matching it to his.

The feel of her small hand on his chest, right over his heart, sent his emotions haywire, and since now was not the time to attempt to make sense of them he ignored them all and instead focused on the woman doing her best not to fall apart.

“There you go, honey. That was smart,” he encouraged, pressing one of his hands above hers, letting her know with his touch as well as his words that she wasn’t alone. He was right there and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Bit by bit her breathing slowed. Her unblinking gaze never wavered from his and it took Miguel a moment to realize his thumb was brushing lazy circles across her hand because he was losing himself staring into her deep green eyes.

“Good girl, you’ve slowed your breathing,” he murmured when it was pretty much back to normal. They’d used up as much time as they could. Raul seemed to be developing an obsession with Ella. While Miguel hadn't been able to keep eyes on her every second, he’d seen enough to recognize the way the weapons trafficker looked at her.

Possessively.

The man wasn’t going to let Ella go.

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