The man grabbed her wrists and pulled her up, as she fought the fog that was beginning to descend. The attacker twisted so she couldn’t knee him, and pushed her against the counter.
The pain was unbearable, and despite her fear, Orla conjured Sam’s smiling face in her mind. The bad guys couldn’t take that from her at least. Her last thought would be a happy one. She waited for the feel of the knife slicing her throat, instead, the pressure abruptly lessened. When she felt a hand touching her, she reacted instinctively, hitting out at her new attacker.
“Orla! Easy, it’s me.”
The voice took a while to make sense. “Sam?”
The hands holding her were gentle when they turned her, and there he was, mask and all, standing before her. Sam. She could see her two attackers on the floor, unmoving and probably dead.
“We need to go. Now. We’re not safe here.” He pulled at her hand, but she faltered. His hand went to her hip and returned covered with blood. “Fucking hell, what did they do to you?”
Orla realized she couldn’t walk. And worse, she was about to swoon.
“Hey, hey. Stay with me.”
With a mix of anxiety and lightheadedness, Orla willed herself to take a step, but Sam wasn’t having any of it and took her in his arms. His hold was gentle, but it hurt nonetheless, especially when he moved toward the door. As they reached it, a tall figure appeared, and the gun he pointed was a sure sign he wasn’t on the good guys’ side.
Orla screamed as Sam twisted to shield her with his body. She heard two shots, but Sam was still holding her tight. Was he hit?
When he turned again, all Orla saw was a man sprawled on the floor across the threshold, and Devin stepping in, flanked by Sloane with a gun in her hand. Now it was clear what just happened.
“How can you defend her with your hands full? Sheesh, I knew we had to come and save your ass.” Sloane rolled her eyes, and Orla wanted to smile at her antics, but everything seemed blurry now.
She saw Devin frown and lurch forward, and Sam mumble something against her ear, but reality turned into a tunnel, and everything turned into night.
ChapterTwenty-One
“Hey,Aussie, can you gimme some space?”
Sam wouldn’t move, even with Melina’s stern voice, even with a gun pointed at his head. Orla was lying on the infirmary table in their hideout, pale as a ghost, and it was his fault. He hadn’t been fast enough to get to her. He’d followed her from that dreary alley when she’d kicked two stupid morons to the curb.
He should have gone to her then, but he’d hesitated, decided to wait until she was safely home. Sam had his plan laid out about revealing himself to her; he’d waited for days, but had been a coward. What if she told him he wasn’t good enough to be saved and would never change? What would she say to his confession? Would she leave? Shut him out?
Melina pushed him aside, and he threw his mask against the wall in a fit of rage. “I’m fucking staying here, Mel, so shut up and find out what’s wrong with her.”
Melina sighed and finished stitching Orla. When he looked to the side, he saw several shards she’d pulled from her lower hip. He didn’t know if he was glad the pieces of broken glass had prevented her from being pushed to her death, or angry that he hadn’t taken a lot more time killing the man who’d put a hand on her.
Melina stretched and rolled her shoulders after she finished putting a dressing on her. “The cuts were clean enough, but she lost a bit of blood. Between that, the last few days where she’s barely slept, and her usual meds, it’s knocked her out. There’s nothing to worry about. Her body has shut down after being under so much stress.”
“How long until she wakes? Did you give her anything else?”
“Only a topical shot for the pain while I finished the sutures. I didn’t see a head injury. She’s fine, Sam, it’s most probably the shock. Can you carry her to the upper room? I wrapped her with a sheet when I removed her clothes. Although from what I heard, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”
He ignored the doctor’s smirk and gathered Orla in his arms and started to the staircase. There was an emergency hub in the basement of their lair, and the infirmary was on the first floor, just below the sleeping quarters.
Devin had made sure whoever stayed had comfortable accommodations. Sam chose his favorite room, facing away from the busy street and containing the biggest bed.
He put her down, leaving her wrapped and took the remainder of the comforter and put it over her. She looked peacefully asleep, like an angel with her blond hair spread over the pillow.
Melina had told him she needed to sleep, that she wasn’t severely wounded, that she would recover. Shewouldrecover. He repeated it like a mantra as he stood there watching over her, unable to move, with the image of her about to be killed popping behind his eyes.
How many times had she escaped death in her job? Maybe as many times as he had himself. This wasn’t a weak woman in front of him, and maybe that’s what had drawn him to Orla Karlsen in the first place.
Sam tensed when he heard scuffles from the hallway and recognized Ben McKenzie’s hesitant step. The expert profiler often worked on private contracts when he wasn’t at Noctem. Released from the police after an accident that turned him almost completely blind, he’d become a force in his own right and had joined their crusade.
“I thought you were still sunbathing in the south of France.”
A low chuckle came from just outside the door, and soon after Ben’s tall, frame entered, preceded by his cane. “You think my work is way more fun than it is. And I have no intention of showing my naked ass on a beach, ever.”
