Page 14 of Guarded from Danger

Cradled in Xavier’s arms, flanked by Rhiannon and Niall on either side and Erik in front, we emerge from my terrible prison.

After days of dark, the sun burns my eyes. But this time, it’s a pain I welcome.

I’m free.

I knew Xavier would come for me, and he did.

Once we’re all in the SUV, Xavier arranges me in his lap while Rhiannon sits next to us, taking my pulse. Then he tenderly kisses my forehead. “You’re safe now, Luce. It’s time to go home.”

And with his arms around me, I finally feel safe.

CHAPTER FOUR

XAVIER

Even standing outside her door is too far away.

I want to be right beside Lucy, close enough to watch the slow rise and fall of her chest. Close enough to stand beside her, taking her pulse, feeling the steady thrum of her heart beneath my thumb.

The machines she’s hooked up to all tell me the same thing—that she’s breathing, her heart is beating, she’s not in terrible danger—but it’s not the same.

Not after five days of fearing the worst.

Rationally, I know she’s safe.

With me and my teammates standing guard, the FBI and local police waiting down the hall until Lucy’s ready to give a statement, there’s no possibility of anyone hurting her.

And the doctor said she’s stable. Dehydrated, malnourished, fighting an infection from the wounds on her wrist, not to mention traumatized and exhausted, but stable. As the attending doctor told me after I lied and said I was Lucy’s fiancé, “Physically, Miss Thompson should make a full recovery. She’ll need to stay here a couple of days to rehydrate and treat her infection, and then a few weeks of taking it easy at home, eatinglots of nutrient-dense foods and increasing her activities slowly, but her prognosis is excellent.”

“But,” he added, his expression going solemn, “I would highly recommend counseling, Mr. Stone. After what she went through…”

And that’s why I hate being away from her.

I thought I knew what to expect when we burst into that cabin, but reality was so much worse.

My Lucy, so pale I could see the blue of her veins, dark shadows beneath her eyes, her cheeks sunken from days of starving herself. Her wrist red and puffy beneath that hated shackle, clearly infected from the cuts she got trying to get free.

“I went a little crazy at first,” Lucy explained as Rhiannon carefully inspected the infected area. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t.”

I can’t even imagine how terrified she must have been.

Fuck.

And watching her cry…

Not just cry, but wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. Desperate, gasping breaths that had her on the verge of hyperventilating. Her eyes red but dry because she was too dehydrated to make tears.

I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when she saw me. Like I was the hero in one of her stories instead of the failure of a boyfriend who let her get taken.

But Lucy would never think that. She wouldn’t blame me. She even said it in the car on the way here, once she calmed down enough to talk. “You saved me,” she whispered in my ear. “I knew you’d come, and you did.”

Is it any wonder I don’t want to leave her side?

But I’m in the hallway with the rest of my team, conferencing about Lucy’s case while she sleeps. As much as I want to stay inher hospital room, I don’t want to risk her waking up while my team discusses her case.

Still. My gaze keeps sliding away from Dante and back towards the open doorway to her room. My attention is split between what he’s saying—something about the FBI—and listening for the steady beep of Lucy’s heart monitor.

So I’m startled when Dante nudges me with his elbow and asks quietly, “You okay?”

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