Her voice rasps out a thready whisper as she tells me she knew I would come for her just before she slumps in the grasp of the big man clutching her bare form against his chest. He scowls at me, muttering to himself and whispering in her ear. He must see my intentions on my face, because he smiles at me snatching up a knife from the table beside him.
“You can’t have her,” he snarls, then, pressing his face into her hair, he mumbles, “We will be together soon, Claire,” as he slashes across her chest with an awkward motion.
Blood pours down her body. I can smell smell it in the air, but I can’t freak out like I want to. Not yet, even though inside I’m screaming in denial of what I just witnessed.
Stepping toward them, his crazy eyes meet mine. With a slow breath I steady my hand. If I can’t give her anything else I will give her vengeance. I pull the trigger and watch with satisfaction as red blossoms across his chest and pull it again. He holds Faye close to his side even as he sinks to the ground with her. The knife drops from his hand.
I advance, kicking it away, and he looks at me before smoothing her hair off of her face.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, “just like her mama.” They are the last words he says.
He collapses to his side and I shove him out of my way, lifting the delicate weight of my beautiful girl into my arms. She is still breathing. I can see the soft throb of her pulse when her head lolls back over my arm.
Her skin is translucent, the cinnamon sprinkles of her freckles standing out starkly against her cheeks. Her mouth is bleeding and there are already deep bruises forming on her arms and shoulders. It's the knife cut that worries me the most—she is losing a lot of blood.
“Need a doc,” I shout into my mic as I struggle to remove my gear. I yank my t-shirt off over my head and press the cotton against the wound. It’s long but doesn’t look as deep as I first feared.
“Already on his way to you,” Blakes calm voice reassures me, and I belatedly remember the GPS trackers that allow him to always know our locations. He would have called for medical support when he heard the shots fired.
“Tell him to hurry his ass up.”
Faye still hasn't moved other than her shallow breathing, and for the first time today I allow myself to actually feel the fear coursing through me. Fear for her, fear for what my life would be like in a world without her. She has been my purpose for so long, I can't imagine living without her.
I know it sounds crazy, but she is my life.
John slides to his knees beside me, pushing my hands away and pulling back the bunched up fabric I’m pressing against her ribs. He doesn’t seem to notice her nakedness as he pulls back her eyelids and shines a light in her eyes.
“She's gonna be okay, Trav.” He looks at me for a moment. “I think she passed out from fear and shock more than anything else.”
His words hearten me enough that I am able to push my fluctuating emotions aside while I help him put a pressure dressing on the knife wound. It isn't deep, but is several inches long across her ribs. It's nothing that stitches won't fix, but she will have a scar that will remind us of this day for the rest of our lives.
John packs away his medical kit while I gather her tattered clothes and dress her limp body the best I can. Mike stands back, delivering a sitrep to Blake that I only half listen to. Blake reports back.
Xavier has Ana. He killed two men getting to her.
Mike, John and the others locked down six more, plus the two Xavier and I hogtied and locked in a bathroom.
There has been no sign of Dominic anywhere. Blake hasn't been able to find any evidence of him in Vegas at all today.
He's in hiding.
“Travis?” Faye's voice is barely a breath of sound, her throat bruised and swollen from being choked. I can see the imprint of his fingers already purpling her skin.
“I'm here, Sweetpea,” I say, lifting her into my arms and cradling her against my exposed chest. “Don't try to talk right now, okay?” I hardly recognize my own voice, rough with emotion and unshed tears.
She blinks languidly at me. She is clearly confused and trying to reorient herself. A corner of her battered lips lifts and she mouths the words “I love you” before wilting against me. Her tears trickle down my chest.
I hardly notice my own tears falling as I bury my face in her hair. “I love you too baby. So much. I'm never letting you out of my sight again.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Faye
Low murmuring voices float in the darkness around me as consciousness slowly starts to return. My body is heavy. I’m so very, very tired but I can’t remember what I’ve been doing that wore me out so much.
I have no idea how long I have been out, but the darkness feels good. I don’t want to wake up. I'm safe, or at least I feel like I am. Maybe this is what it feels like to die.
That seems like such an odd thought. Why in the world am I thinking about being dead?