Page 43 of Redd

She tried to fight back, kicking her legs out and tensing the muscles in her arms. Sharp nails clawed the back of my hands, her head snapping back as if she was trying to use her skull as a weapon.

I didn't let go.

Damn, she's stronger than I thought.

Squeezing her tighter, I could feel the bones in her back as she arched forward and tried to jerk herself free. The joint in her wrist stabbed into the center of my palm as I pushed her hand into her lap. The piano keys of her ribs played my biceps, showing me just how depleted her body truly was.

This woman wasn't fighting with muscle, she was fighting with her soul.

Holding her firmly in my arms, I pressed my lips to her ear and hushed her like I used to do with Vicki when she was really little, and woke up from one of her night terrors. “Shh, shh, calm down, no one is going to die. Not you, not your father, I won't let that happen. You're safe now, shh.”

Rocking back and forth, I cradled her against my chest and let her sob. Her breathing was erratic, coming in loud and short exhales as tears rolled down her face and soaked the arm of my sweatshirt.

“He's going to kill him.” Her frame withered into my arms, breaking with the weight of her words. “And it's because of me, it's all because of me. I shouldn't have let you take me out of there.” Her voice crackled, loud and soft, smooth and harsh.

“That's not true and you know it. I couldn't have left you there like that. Do you really think you'd rather have had me just shut the door and walk away?”

I felt her body relax as her breathing leveled out, and her muscles fell weak and tired. She had fought for as long as her body could handle. There was no more energy flowing through her system to keep going. “That's exactly what you should have done.”

“Where he had you, how you were being treated. . .” Loosening my grip, I took a hand and started to brush it down over her head. “No one deserves that.” Running my fingers through her hair, I pulled apart some of the knots. “I think we can help each other, but you need to tell me everything.”

Lifting her arm to her nose, she wiped her wrist across her face. “I can't.”

Leaning to the side, I cupped her chin and forced her to look into my eyes. “I need answers. I have to keep my sister safe, I want to keep you safe. You need to tell me.”

Her eyes flicked between mine, a thousand words in her gaze but only a select few came out. “You took my chance to save him.”

“How? All I've done was take you from that hell. How does that hurt him?”

Her tone was soft, balancing on the thin edge of sadness. “You took the phone didn't you?”

Dropping my head into my chest, I darted my eyes around the room, taking in all the carnage. The closer I looked, the more aware I became of what I was actually seeing. My home wasn't tossed upside down from a battle between an angel and a demon. It was spilled open in a search.

“This was you, wasn't it?” My fingers worked through her hair, combing her frizzled locks.

She didn't answer, her head hung lower, dropping tears into her lap.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I tried to explain why I had made that decision. “I did take the phone, but not to keep you from your father. I only did it because I couldn't risk you calling someone and leading any of those assholes here. I did it to protect my sister and to protect you.”

Snapping her head up, she glared at me over her shoulder. “Those assholes are going to find me anyway, but they're going to kill my father first. . .” Pausing, she let her eyes fall to her hands, picking anxiously at the skin around the bed of her nails. “He's probably already dead.”

“You don't know that.” Sitting up straight, I pulled the young woman back against my chest. “Youdon'tknow that.”

I wanted to believe my own words. But in reality, she was probably right.

I had met men like Dominick and Val before, men that would stop at nothing to take what they deemed theirs. Men like that, they didn't care who got in the way. They just took and took and took, until they felt satisfied.

And the man in charge, he probably had an appetite that was deadly.

“All I want is to hear his voice one more time, that's it. What will I do if he's gone? What will happen to the rest of my family?”

There was no answer I could give that would console her. So I sat holding her, feeling her pain and distress, knowing exactly what she was experiencing.

I felt it. I lived it.

The loss, the hurt, the anguish, it created a knot in your gut and made you feel sick. You want to breathe, but you can't, you want to speak, but you have no voice. And that feeling, it can make you do things you'd never think possible.

Like fighting when you had nothing left to fight with—or killing someone.

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