Page 48 of Saved from Obsession

I almost snarl as I say, “Iwantto kill someone. Like the piece of shit who broke into her house and put her in a headlock and threatened to take her. I want to killhim.”

“I know.” His voice remains annoyingly calm. “I get it. Trust me. But Leo, you’re going to freak her out. I’m speaking from experience, when Georgia gets here she’s going to be fragile and your anger isn’t going to help her.”

Dammit. I know he’s right, but my fury is so hot it’s burning me up from the inside. But the last thing I want is to scare Georgia.

“I’m not just angry athim.“ It’s a painful confession. “I’m so mad atmyself. I should have been protecting her, instead of going off helping some people I don’t even know upgrade their security.Georgiais the one who needed help, and I wasn’t there for her.”

“It’s not your fault, Leo.”

“Yes, itis,“ I snap. “If I had been there—”

“You didn’t know.” Cole cuts me off. “None of us did. There was no way to know this could happen.”

“But itdidhappen.” And now I say the part that’s been haunting me from the second I answered Georgia’s call, “Twice, it could be a coincidence. But the other two are in jail. Now a third man comes after her?”

Cole stares at me, a somber expression on his face. “They may be connected.”

Shit. I drag my hand down my face. It’s what I’ve been thinking, and if Cole agrees with me… “I need to talk to the guy we caught at the duplex. Find out what we’re missing.”

“Rylan will do that,” Cole says, and puts his hand up when I open my mouth to argue. “I know you want to, but he can go tomorrow morning, first thing. I’ve already reached out to the warden for permission. Do you really want to leave Georgia so soon?”

“Dammit.” I pause, gritting my teeth. “No. I don’t. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Rylan will get the answers,” Cole reassures me. “You know he will.”

I know Rylan is a good interrogator, can get answers out of even the most reluctant subjects, butIwant to be there to face one of the men who threatened Georgia. But Cole is right. Sighing, I say, “I know.”

“Hey, Leo,” Rylan calls over from the conference table, “Georgia is just about a mile away now. You want to meet her in the garage or out front?”

“The garage.” I reach the table in two steps and snatch up my phone. “Hey, sweetheart,” I say, gentling my tone, “I’m going to have the driveway gate open for you.” As I start to jog toward the garage, I continue, “You can pull right into the garage, it’s secure, I’ll be waiting, and so will Cole and Rylan.”

A shaky breath comes over the phone, and then she whispers, “Okay, Leo.” And the wobble in her voice just about slays me. I want to tell Georgia a hundred things—how proud I am of her, how much I want to hold her in my arms, that I’m so sorry for not keeping her safe—but I keep my mouth shut and let her concentrate on driving.

Two minutes later, I’m in the garage with the door open and watching the headlights approaching. Cole and Rylan are out here, too—Rylan waiting to close the garage door behind Georgia and Cole ready to help in case she’s hurt and needs medical attention. Shesaidshe was alright, but I know adrenaline can mask a lot of serious injuries, so I’m not taking any chances.

The car rolls to a slow stop in the center of the large garage—Rylan will park it in one of the spots later—and turns off, the sudden silence echoing. I walk over to the driver’s side door and wait beside it, even though every part of me is demanding that I yank the door open and pull Georgia into my arms.

But I need to be sensitive. She just went through a terrifying experience and might want a second to compose herself, and it doesn’t matter whatIwant, the important thing is that Georgia gets whatever she needs.

She doesn’t wait. The door creaks open—needs some lube, my brain distractedly notes—and Georgia looks up at me.

As soon as I see her face, a hurricane of emotion slams into me. Relief so powerful I have to put my hand on the car to brace myself. Pain tearing at my chest as I see the lines of strain and fear etched into her face. A desire to wrap her in my arms and never let her go. And love—so much love my heart aches from it.

Georgia climbs out of the car and takes one step toward me. The fluorescent lights in the garage accentuate the paleness of her skin and the bluish marks just above her collarbone.

Where she was choked. My rage surges forward but I wrestle it back to captivity.

“Sweetheart,” I groan, then say it more steadily, “Sweetheart, are you hurt anywhere else?”

Georgia’s lips tremble, and she shakes her head. Small tremors are working their way across her body and her pulse is jumping at her throat. I’m just about to reach for her when she throws herself at me, her arms wrapping around me, hands clutching at my shirt.

I pull her against me with a desperation that feels more necessary than breathing. One hand at the middle of her back, rubbing up and down, the other cupping the back of her neck, and it’s still not close enough. If I could, I’d tuck her inside me.

“Leo,” she gasps out, her face pressed into my neck. “Leo.“ And then she starts to sob, sagging into my embrace, giving all of her weight to me.

I’ve never seen her cry like this before, and it’s like I’m being stabbed in the chest. Georgia is shaking all over, gasping for breath, her cries painfully ripping from her throat, tears hot as they soak my neck.

As much as it hurts me, as much as I wish I could stop her tears, I know she needs to cry. Needs to let out all the fear and panic and stress and tension she’s been holding onto for the last few hours. And the only way I can help Georgia right now is by doing just this—holding her and making sure she knows she’s not alone anymore.

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