Page 17 of Guardian's Touch

Footsteps outside the door make my heart lurch before I scramble for the chair. Only my body’s moving faster than my feet, and I can’t balance myself with my arms. Suddenly, I’m falling with no way of stopping myself.

I hit the chair on the way to the floor, and it tips over, landing with a jarring crash as I land in a heap.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The floor flies open and a pair of feet come marching toward me.

“No, please!” There’s nothing to do but let him roll me onto my back, hands pinned between me and the floor. To my horror, I realize the shirt’s up around my hips. “Don’t hurt me!”

“Fucking bitch,” he snarls, and I only notice him pulling his hand back at the last second.

Before pain flares hot and fierce in the side of my face and I sink into darkness again.

8

DANE

“Ishouldn’t have left her alone.”

“You didn’t know this would happen.”

I have no idea how many times Frank has repeated those words in the past couple of hours. Dozens, probably, since I can’t stop blaming myself for this. She’s gone, and I don’t know where they took her, and it’s all my fault. They would never have taken her if it wasn’t for me. I should’ve stopped at nothing to make peace with O’Grady, if only for her sake.

“I should’ve known,” I insist. As soon as I found an unmanned post, I should’ve insisted she stick close to my side. Our security was compromised.

I had no idea how badly at the time. It wasn’t until I went to the control center in the shed that I found the pair of dead men, one of whom must’ve been lured away from his post while the other was manning the security feed. The two men who would’ve been most likely to alert me to intruders.

They put thought into this, in other words. This wasn’t a random act.

And here I was all the time, eating breakfast with Camilla, reveling in her body and the things I wanted to do to her once we finished eating. In another life, I’d be in bed with her now, spending a lazy Sunday with her wrapped around my cock.

My phone rings, and I pounce on it, but it’s only one of the men reporting nothing once again. “Don’t waste my time again,” I warn in a growl while pacing my office. “If you call, it’s with good news.”

“At least we have the make and model,” Frank reminds me. We managed to get a look at the truck they parked on the other side of the fence, barely visible in the feed from the camera aimed at the backyard.

“How many black Rams are on the road, do you think?” No, it’s fucking hopeless. We’ll never find her that way. “What about the contacts at the DMV? When’s the last time you heard from them?”

“I’ll give them a call now.” We grease more than a few palms down there. They come in handy when we need fake IDs—and when we’re looking for a certain truck on the traffic cameras sprinkled throughout the area. That’s our best shot right now, following the truck’s progress through town by poring over traffic footage. Otherwise, we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.

There’s nothing for me to pace like a caged tiger and blame myself. They’ve had more than enough time to do unthinkable things to her, all to hurt me. O’Grady couldn’t have chosen a better way to do it.

The idea of her being in pain, terrified, is tearing me up inside. I can’t bear the thought, but I force myself to imagine it. Anything to punish myself for letting her out of my sight.

How could I ever have imagined being the man she needs when I couldn’t keep her safe in my home? She needed me, trusted me, and I let her down. I had no business bringing her here at all. I certainly had no business touching her.

And if I hadn’t burst into the club last night, prepared to crack skulls if it meant bringing her home safely, this wouldn’t have happened. It didn’t take long for us to figure that out. Until now, I’ve kept Camilla out of the spotlight and have never so much as mentioned her to outsiders. If anyone knew I had a kid living here, they couldn’t have known I gave a shit about her.

I made it fairly obvious. It took no time for word to spread of my weakness.

And less time for O’Grady to decide he’d take advantage of it.

“I’ll kill that fucker,” I mutter, smiling at the idea of blowing his brains out. I’ll torture him first. Slowly. I’ll make him regret ever finding out she exists—hell, by the time I finish, he’ll regret being born.

Frank bursts into the room, holding his phone out. “They have a black Ram entering an industrial park outside Chicago Heights two hours ago.”

* * *

Two cars waitfor us half a mile from the warehouse where the Ram is parked. “We still have eyes on it,” Frank informs me. “A couple of guys come out for a smoke every fifteen minutes or so, but that’s all the movement so far.”

A couple of guys. Two of them, one of her. The idea of it—how frightened she must be—leaves my trigger finger itching. “They’re mine,” I growl, staring in the direction of the warehouse.I’m here, Camilla. I’m coming for you. Hold on.

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