Page 30 of Bred By the Mercenary

“Daxton, please get up, please,” I whisper, my words choked with emotion.

A shadow looms over me, and before I can react, a hand strikes my face with such force, I’m thrown onto my back in the grass. The world spins for a moment, pain radiating across my cheek where Ryker hit me. I try to regain my senses, but he’s relentless. He grabs me by my hair and starts dragging me back toward the car, my body scraping against the ground. I yell out, grasping his hand to stop it from feeling like he’s ripping my scalp off. I kick and flail, trying to resist, but Ryker’s not releasing me.

“Let go of me!” I bellow. I glance back at Daxton, still lying motionless, and my heart aches. I need to do something, anything, to help him, to get us both out of this nightmare.

As Ryker hauls me to the car, my mind races, searching for any opportunity to escape, to fight back. The chains around my wrists and ankles clink and rattle with my struggles.

“Stop this, Ryker!” I plead, hoping against hope to make him see sense, but his face is set, his expression one of cold viciousness.

He opens the door to Daxton’s SUV, preparing to shove me inside. Panic surges within me, and I summon every ounce of strength left in me. This isn’t how it ends. I refuse to let Ryker win. Shoving his hand in my back, releasing my hair, he shoves me forward. I throw an elbow into him, but despite his growl, he’s not letting go.

“You’re going to pay for this, whore!”

Just as he pushes my back again, harder this time, the pressure of his hands vanishes in a flash. I swivel around to the fast movement of Daxton, who’s suddenly got Ryker on the grass, straddling him and slamming fist after fist into him.

My world spins with everything happening too fast.

I stumble free, gasping for air.

The night is suddenly pierced by the beam of headlights as a car pulls up near us.

I rush to Daxton’s side, my voice shaky with fear and concern.

“Daxton, someone’s here… please, stop beating him.”

Daxton pauses, swaying slightly as he rubs the back of his head where he was hit earlier. He squints at the car as two men step out. My heart pounds in my chest, unsure of what’s about to happen.

“About time, Dean,” Daxton calls out.

Does he know them?

As I’m trying to make sense of the situation, I spot Ryker seizing his chance to escape, making a run for the woods. Daxton glances at me, his expression stern.

“Stay here with my friends. I’m going to finish this… don’t follow me, okay?”

I nod, too scared to say anything. Daxton then disappears into the darkness after Ryker, their voices fading into cries and shouts, then an unsettling silence.

A blond man approaches me, taking in the scene with a quick, professional glance, then focuses on me.

“You must be Amelia,” he says, noting the chains. “I may have something to help with that.” He signals to his friend, and they both head back to their car. Within moments, they return with tools and begin working on the chains.

The relief I feel as the metal finally falls to my feet is overwhelming. Tears stream down my face, not just from thephysical release but also from the realization of how close I had come to a much darker fate.

“It’s going to be okay now,” the blond man says.

Then, out of the woods, Daxton returns. I don’t hesitate for a second before rushing into his arms. Wrapped in his embrace, I feel safe, protected, and I’m crying again—this is where I always want to be. His presence is a balm to my snapped nerves, and in his arms, I find peace from the terror of the night.

“Let’s go home, gorgeous,” he says. He walks me to the back of his friend’s car and closes me in before returning to them. They talk for a long moment, pointing at the chaos, the cars, where Daxton must have left Ryker.

Right then, a van pulls up and a hefty man goes to join them, shaking hands with Daxton. Another friend, I’m guessing. After a moment, Daxton and the blond man return to me in the car.

As we ride with Daxton and me in the back, I’m told Dean will drive us back home, then return to help his buddies clean up the mess. Dean drives away from the scene.

I curl up against Daxton, seeking his warmth and protection. He holds me in his arms, his presence a comforting fortress against the chaos of the night. He gently strokes my back, soothingly pushing hair out of my face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better, that I didn’t watch for him coming to the bar,” Daxton murmurs, his voice laced with regret.

“It’s not on you,” I reply, my voice muffled against his chest. “Ryker’s a fucking monster.” Silence. “What will happen to him?”

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