his location and Gracie’s condition, he tried to make Gracie as comfortable as possible without moving her too much. The last thing he wanted was to cause her further harm by doing something careless.
His call ended, and he tossed the phone down so he could focus more carefully on Gracie. He bent down and gathered her gently against his chest, hoping his body heat would offer her some respite from the damp chill. He tugged at the ropes that had cut into her wrists. Then he frowned when he felt the rough abrasions on her skin.
She was so still. One could easily believe she was dead. Her breaths were so light that her chest barely made any movement at all. They were also shallow. He knew she needed oxygen and silently urged the ambulance to get there as fast as possible.
When he’d arranged her head so that it wasn’t at such an awkward angle, he quickly assessed the rest of her body, his heart in his throat. Nothing looked broken, but how was he to know?
And then something else caught his eyes. Something familiar. He went utterly still, his gaze fastening on the tag affixed to her toe. No. Oh hell no. There was no fucking way.
An inarticulate sound of rage erupted from his throat as he ran his hand down her leg, checking for further injury before he carefully detached the tag from her toe. He was careful to only touch what was necessary and then he read the scrawled words, the now-familiar handwriting like salt poured on an already festering wound.
This is what happens to people who get in our way.
Son of a bitch! Gracie had been targeted because of him. He’d led the enemy straight to her! How could he have known?
His entire body was flushed with heat—rage. His skin and heart burned with it.
Months ago, they’d found another body with the same tag attached to the toe. Ari’s biological father. He hadn’t survived his beating. Would Gracie live?
He closed his eyes, unable to even consider the possibility. Were his worst fears of what had happened to her twelve years ago being realized now ?
They had underestimated the enemy. Mistaken their silence and patience as them having given up. Now Zack realized that they’d simply been watching—and waiting—for the right moment to strike. To find a vulnerable target, since getting to Ramie and Ari, the two women married to brothers Caleb and Beau, would prove pretty damn difficult, given the fact that their husbands kept very close guard over the women they loved.
Zack was assailed by the knowledge that, just as he’d failed Gracie twelve years ago, so too had he failed her now. He hadn’t even considered the risk of him seeking her out, doing nothing to cover his tracks. Never had he imagined the lengths this fanatical group would go to in their effort to strike back at DSS.
This would kill Ari. She was so tenderhearted, and the idea that someone had been so grievously hurt because of her . . . Of course it wasn’t her fault. But she wouldn’t see it that way. All she would point out is that until she came into the picture there was no way for her past to touch DSS and those associated with it.
With a curse he reached for his phone again. Where was the goddamn ambulance?
He punched in Beau’s number, willing the other man to answer. He needed Beau to get the word out to the others. They weren’t safe. None of them were. Beau and Caleb would be pissed and they’d lock down their women so neither would be touched by violence ever again. They’d suffered far too much in their young lives. They’d seen more damage and hurt than any ten people would in their lifetimes.
“Beau, we’ve got a problem,” Zack said grimly when the other man answered.
“Talk,” Beau said, his tone immediately matching Zack’s.
“They got to Gracie,” he said, nearly choking on the words. “The goddamn sons of bitches beat her.”
“Whoa, back up. What the fuck?”
Zack closed his eyes in relief when he heard the distant wail of a siren.
“I’ve got to make
His call ended, and he tossed the phone down so he could focus more carefully on Gracie. He bent down and gathered her gently against his chest, hoping his body heat would offer her some respite from the damp chill. He tugged at the ropes that had cut into her wrists. Then he frowned when he felt the rough abrasions on her skin.
She was so still. One could easily believe she was dead. Her breaths were so light that her chest barely made any movement at all. They were also shallow. He knew she needed oxygen and silently urged the ambulance to get there as fast as possible.
When he’d arranged her head so that it wasn’t at such an awkward angle, he quickly assessed the rest of her body, his heart in his throat. Nothing looked broken, but how was he to know?
And then something else caught his eyes. Something familiar. He went utterly still, his gaze fastening on the tag affixed to her toe. No. Oh hell no. There was no fucking way.
An inarticulate sound of rage erupted from his throat as he ran his hand down her leg, checking for further injury before he carefully detached the tag from her toe. He was careful to only touch what was necessary and then he read the scrawled words, the now-familiar handwriting like salt poured on an already festering wound.
This is what happens to people who get in our way.
Son of a bitch! Gracie had been targeted because of him. He’d led the enemy straight to her! How could he have known?
His entire body was flushed with heat—rage. His skin and heart burned with it.
Months ago, they’d found another body with the same tag attached to the toe. Ari’s biological father. He hadn’t survived his beating. Would Gracie live?
He closed his eyes, unable to even consider the possibility. Were his worst fears of what had happened to her twelve years ago being realized now ?
They had underestimated the enemy. Mistaken their silence and patience as them having given up. Now Zack realized that they’d simply been watching—and waiting—for the right moment to strike. To find a vulnerable target, since getting to Ramie and Ari, the two women married to brothers Caleb and Beau, would prove pretty damn difficult, given the fact that their husbands kept very close guard over the women they loved.
Zack was assailed by the knowledge that, just as he’d failed Gracie twelve years ago, so too had he failed her now. He hadn’t even considered the risk of him seeking her out, doing nothing to cover his tracks. Never had he imagined the lengths this fanatical group would go to in their effort to strike back at DSS.
This would kill Ari. She was so tenderhearted, and the idea that someone had been so grievously hurt because of her . . . Of course it wasn’t her fault. But she wouldn’t see it that way. All she would point out is that until she came into the picture there was no way for her past to touch DSS and those associated with it.
With a curse he reached for his phone again. Where was the goddamn ambulance?
He punched in Beau’s number, willing the other man to answer. He needed Beau to get the word out to the others. They weren’t safe. None of them were. Beau and Caleb would be pissed and they’d lock down their women so neither would be touched by violence ever again. They’d suffered far too much in their young lives. They’d seen more damage and hurt than any ten people would in their lifetimes.
“Beau, we’ve got a problem,” Zack said grimly when the other man answered.
“Talk,” Beau said, his tone immediately matching Zack’s.
“They got to Gracie,” he said, nearly choking on the words. “The goddamn sons of bitches beat her.”
“Whoa, back up. What the fuck?”
Zack closed his eyes in relief when he heard the distant wail of a siren.
“I’ve got to make
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