Page 150 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

My chest tightened, and I shook my head, taking a deep breath and trying to gentle my voice. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home,” I said soothingly.

Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. “Logan, I can’t?—”

“You can,” I interrupted. “And you will. Because I’m not leaving this condo without you.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. For a long moment, she just stared at me, as if she was trying to decide whether to fight me or let me in.

Finally, she exhaled shakily, her shoulders slumping. “Okay,” she murmured.

Relief coursed through me, but it was tempered by the simmering rage in my veins, rage that was only growing the longer I looked at what he’d done to her. I wiped a trembling hand down my face as I thought about all the ways I was going to make him pay.

One way or another, her uncle was going to pay.

But for now, all that mattered was getting her out of this place and somewhere I could keep her safe.

I carefully lifted her into my arms, not bothering to grab anything else as I stalked back to the elevator. Her tears were soaking my shirt, and every tear made me want to die.

“Logan, I went to him to tell him I was done,” she whispered as I stepped onto the elevator.

My whole body shuddered as the elevator descended.

“That’s my good girl,” I finally got out in a choked voice, even though every cell in my body was busy planning his demise. “That’s mygoodgirl.”

* * *

I paced the length of my living room, my phone clutched tightly in my hand as I waited for Lincoln to pick up. My apartment was too quiet, save for the faint murmurs coming from the bedroom where the team doctor was helping Sloane. Every now and then, I caught the sound of her voice, soft and trembling. The image of her lying on that bed, beaten and broken, was burned into my mind, fueling a rage I couldn’t contain. The only thing keeping me from leaving and finding her uncle right now was because murder was a crime that would end up with me separated from her forever, something that was obviously unacceptable.

I was hoping Lincoln would have a plan.

The call finally connected. “Logan,” Lincoln answered, his voice calm and steady, the kind of voice that never wavered, no matter what.

“I need your help,” I said immediately, not bothering with pleasantries. My words came out sharp, clipped. “Sloane tried to be done tonight. Her uncle—” It was hard to finish. There was so much rage and hate inside me right now. “He beat the fucking shit out of her.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, heavy and deliberate. Then Lincoln’s voice dropped, colder than I’d ever heard it. “He won’t be a problem for much longer.”

“He’s not going to let her go,” I said quietly, pacing faster, my free hand raking through my hair. The anger boiling in my chest was spilling over, making it hard to think straight. “I need to figure something?—”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t have a choice,” Lincoln interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll get to work on it.”

Before I could respond, the line went dead. I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at the screen. I hadn’t even given him the details—no names, no specifics, nothing. Which could only mean one thing.

Lincoln already knew.

A sharp, humorless smile tugged at my lips, something I didn’t think I was capable of at the moment. “Fucking stalker,” I muttered, shaking my head as I let the phone drop to my side.

The bedroom door creaked open, and I turned to see the team doctor stepping out. His face was grim, but there was a professionalism to his expression that kept my panic at bay.

“She’s resting now,” he said, his voice low. “But she’s in a lot of pain. I don’t think we need to worry about internal bleeding, and I don’t think anything’s broken. It mainly looks to be severe bruising and welts. She’ll need time to heal—and someone to watch over her.”

I nodded, my throat tightening as his words sank in. “I’ll be here,” I said, my voice firm and unyielding. “Whatever she needs.”

The doctor studied me for a moment, then gave a short nod. “Good. She needs a safe place. I gave her some pain meds and something to help her sleep. The bottles are on the table next to her, along with instructions for when she needs them next.” He gathered his bag and left without another word, leaving me standing alone in the quiet apartment.

I turned toward the bedroom door, staring at it like it could give me all the answers to every question that had been clawing at me since I’d found her like that.

The only thing I did know—I wasn’t going to let it happen ever again.

My fists clenched at my sides as I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to relax before I opened the door and joined her on the bed.

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