Page 29 of Brawler
Breathing out slowly, he made his way back through the shadows, the jungle crowding in on every side, toward Emily and the dog waiting like sparks in tinder.
When he got back to the place where he’d left her, he almost broke blood vessels in his neck.
She wasn’t there.
For one impossible heartbeat his training failed him. Pure terror hit, washing through him in a weakening cascade. His gut clenched so hard bile surged up, nausea twisting his stomach into knots. Every nightmare scenario slammed into him at once: her body broken at the bottom of a ravine, her throat cut by tangos, her small frame dragged off into the jungle where he’d never find her.
The flood of it nearly buckled him.
He forced air into his lungs, driving it out slowly. Training clawed its way back through the panic, fighting to steady his hands.Don’t freeze. Don’t lose it. Find her.
But the raw truth carved through anyway. Emily gone was a horror he couldn’t survive.
He grabbed hold of everything that made him a badass in this environment. He ruthlessly controlled his breathing, forced it steady, then he fucking moved.
The search didn’t take long. Relief hit like a gut punch, immediately drowned by rage.
She was crouched in the dirt, Beast planted beside her, scribbling in her goddamn journal as if bullets weren’t flying not twenty yards away.
Red fog rolled through him, the kind he’d only felt once before. Uncle Ray had taken Toby to Vegas, snatched him out from under Hank’s nose like a prize off a shelf. That same helpless fury clawed at him now.
He stalked toward her. Beast’s hackles rose, the dog’s amber eyes locking on him like he didn’t recognize his own handler. It only fueled the fire.
When he reached her, he had to drag his strength into check, every muscle coiled too tight. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and hauled all ninety pounds of her clean off the ground.
Her legs kicked once before he yanked her face to his, inches away. His stare was a blade, sharp and unflinching, striking flint and sparking against her defiance.
She had the audacity to lift her chin.
“Do you understand basic commands?” His voice came out low, lethal. “Beast is better at staying than you are.”
Her delectable mouth tightened, snapping back at him like a whip. “This is important?—”
He jerked her closer, his fury vibrating through the hold. “I don’t give a goddamn about paw prints, dissertations, or your life’s work.” His teeth clenched, jaw so tight it ached, and when he spoke the words ripped from his throat in a rasp that was half snarl, half confession. “You can’t study a thing if you’redead, and I don’t want failing you on my fucking résumé.”
Her breath caught, eyes going wide as he hauled her close. She curled an arm around him, her hand clasping his flexed biceps.
Heat surged into him, raw, clawing, inescapable. He was reaching critical mass. He had no memory of ever getting this close to breaking in his life. His body was lit up, demanding release, ready to fracture, melt down, or explode.
He blinked hard, fighting to hold on. Maybe it wasn’t his body at all, maybe it was his mind clawing for an anchor, something to keep him in the here and now.
Jesus.
She was…so fucking beautiful.
Not painted up and chasing a uniform like women in bars. This was different. Wild hair tangled from the fall, dirt streaked across her cheek, her eyes snapping with unflinching will right into his soul. A full-blown redhead rebellion. Beautiful in a way that wrecked him, stripped him bare.
Christ, what a thing to think right now, when she was defying him, when his rage was boiling over.
But losing her?
Not even a remote possibility. He couldn’t let his mind shape the thought. Wouldn’t.
He set her down hard, looming over her, but Emily Shade wasn’t cowed. Not even close. She was a lit fuse, ready to blow, and he could see it in every snap of her eyes and flex of her jaw. Ninety pounds of nothing with a firecracker attitude, fuse already hissing. He didn’t give a damn.
“You thinking about punching me in the nuts again?” he growled.
Her jaw tightened, eyes narrowing to slits. “I’m scrolling through my options.”
