Page 93 of Mountain Protector

It’s a simple shot, even though he’s moving.

I never knew all the years of practice would lead to this.

I’ve never been more thankful for all my training.

The shot strikes true, and Ed lets out an ear-splitting shriek. He claps his free hand to his shoulder as his gun falls uselessly to the ground.

Before I can take another step, Ronan flies from the trees and leaps on Ed, pinning him.

Ed screams, “Ahhhh! You shot me! You shot me!”

Shouldering my rifle, I sprint the rest of the way to the car. As I pass by the man who tried to kill my girlfriend, I lean down and get right in his face. “You’re lucky I didn’t fuckingkillyou.”

Ronan’s already zip tying Ed’s feet and hands together, pausing to look up at me with a grim smile. “At least this way you won’t have to talk to the police as long.”

True. But right now, my only concern is Lark.

I lunge at the car and pull open the driver’s side door, reaching inside and grabbing the trunk release. The trunk pops open, and I race around to it, bracing myself for whatever condition Lark might be in.

Please. Let her be okay.

In the moment before I get the trunk fully open, a flurry of possibilities fill my head.

Lark, tied up and scared, but unharmed. Lark hurt, bruised and bloody, but still okay. Or Lark unconscious, possibly drugged.

And the worst. My Lark, terribly injured. She couldhave been shot. Could be bleeding out. She could be on the brink of death.

Then I lift the trunk lid and look inside.

Oh.

Shit.

My legs almost collapse in relief.

My Lark. My songbird. Tied up, but looking up at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Knox!” Fresh tears spill down her already-wet cheeks. “I knew you’d come.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” My own eyes burn. “I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

I reach into the trunk, gathering her into my arms. Her ankles are zip tied together, and her wrists are bound behind her back. Cradling Lark to my chest, I kiss her forehead, swallowing hard against threatening tears. “Just hang on. I’ll get you untied. And we’ll get you to the hospital?—”

“I’m okay. But… who has Ed?” Lark cranes her head to look over my shoulder, and that’s when I see it.

Blood.

My stomach drops. Icy fear clutches my heart.

Backing away from the trunk, I shout to Ronan, “Lark’s hurt! Head injury. I need you!”

“I’m okay,” Lark says quietly. “I was only knocked out for a few minutes, I think.”

“A few minutes?”

Fuck. She was knocked out? Her head is bleeding?

Ronan jogs over to me, worry in his gaze. He immediately spots the blood on the side of Lark’s head, just above her ear. In a gentle tone, he says, “Hey Lark.Looks like you got a pretty nasty whack here. I’m just going to check it out, okay?”

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