Fighting Dirty
Page 79

“I’m so glad.” She flinched as he touched a particularly tender spot. She wanted to say more, to ask him what he was doing to her, but all that came out was an awful choking sound. Shamed, she threw herself against him. Warm, strong.
Safe.
His hard arms tightened carefully around her. “I hear police sirens. I need to call them—Armie and Cannon, I mean—before things get any crazier.”
She nodded. Damn it, she wanted them both...but she couldn’t get herself to release Leese. Relief battled against the surge of adrenaline and emotions bubbled up. She tried to hold back the tide, but it broke free and she started sobbing uncontrollably.
Somehow Leese managed to sit and lift her into his lap. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
Nodding, she burrowed close again. Her arm started thumping and her face burned, but it didn’t matter. Leese was protection. She’d be safe now. If not for him, those men would have had her—and then what?
From behind Leese, an elderly man spoke. “She okay?”
Leese carefully tucked her close to his chest and half turned to the man. “You called the cops?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I get either of you anything?”
“A blanket?”
The man nodded and hurried away.
Merissa knew she soaked Leese’s shoulder, but she couldn’t stem the tears.
He bent to her ear. “Shh, now. The police will think I’m hurting you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He rubbed the middle of her back. “Take a breath,” he suggested gently.
The man returned with a blanket and Leese draped it around her.
“You’re the one who’s naked,” she whispered.
“Don’t go starting rumors, Rissy. I only took off my shirt. Now, another breath.”
Nodding, she inhaled shakily, then again. As the red-and-blue lights of cop cars flashed around the area, she looked up at Leese. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Cops descended on them and an ambulance pulled up. Merissa assumed it was for Leese—until they reached her.
Well, hell. She suddenly discovered that she was in worse shape than she thought.
* * *
ARMIE COULDN’T BELIEVE what Lea told him.
Yeah, he recognized the description: Steve. When he got his hands on that miserable fuck, he’d—
His phone rang, but not with the normal ringtone. It was the emergency ring, the one that meant something was wrong, the ringtone that Vanity called the “Bat signal.” All of the guys worked together to help in an emergency. He’d had these calls before, knew it could mean almost anything, but tonight it sent ice through his veins.
“Wait,” he told Lea, interrupting her story to grab up his cell. Caller ID showed it was Cannon. He answered with, “What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?”
That only alarmed him more. “Driving toward Merissa’s house.”
“Pull over.”
His guts twisted. “Cannon—”
“Pull over, damn it!”
He glanced in the rearview mirror, cut to the right and stopped at the curb. Chest tight, he said, “I’ve stopped.”
“She’s okay,” Cannon said first, “but Rissy got jumped. Leese was following her and he got to her before they could get her into their car.”
Armie tried to speak, but no words came out. Leese got to her before they could get her into their car. He breathed too fast and his vision narrowed. In a rasp, he asked, “Where is she?”
“I know that tone, damn it. Get it together.”
“Where is she?” His heart punched so hard it hurt him, deep inside hurt.
Cannon went quiet, then whispered, “Remember, she is okay—but an ambulance took her to the hospital. I’m here with her now. I’d have called sooner, but it was a little chaotic at first.”
Ambulance. Hospital.
Someone made a grab for Rissy.
And now he knew Steve was involved.
Putting his truck back in gear, Armie said, “I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“YOU SHOULD LIE DOWN,” Cannon told her for the hundredth time.
Sitting on the side of the bed in the emergency area of the hospital, wearing a hospital gown that barely fit her tall frame and a sheet wrapped around her for modesty, Merissa shook her head. She’d been at the hospital for forty-five minutes, long enough to be somewhat cleaned up and have the cut on her face—a cut she hadn’t even known about—bandaged.
She still shook from head to toe. Aches and pains had long since set in, but she had so many good friends crowded in the small room that she didn’t want to upset them more than they already were.
Soon, she’d been told, her face would be stitched and her arm x-rayed. Her poor arm. She glanced at it again and saw the awful mottled bruising from her elbow halfway up her arm and midway down her forearm. It had all happened so fast, she still couldn’t remember exactly how she’d gotten hurt, but she felt it now as she held her injured arm protectively against her body. Cannon stood right there beside her, holding her other hand, his thumb constantly brushing over her knuckles. Yvette stood half behind him, her cheek resting on his shoulder.
In the corner, Denver held Cherry, her back to his chest, his massive arms looped around her. They both watched her with concern. Merissa tried smiling to reassure them, but that just made the bandages on her face pinch.
Even though Merissa had tried to protest all the attention, Stack and Vanity were on their way.
Leese, now in a clean shirt that Denver had brought him, paced in the hall while continually looking in on her. Merissa wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he still had a lot of pent-up fury simmering just beneath the surface.
Even with a black eye and a bruise at the edge of his jaw, he looked dangerous.
And he’d saved her. Thinking that made her bottom lip quiver again, which of course Cannon noticed.
“Just hang on,” he told her, as if her life was on the line.
And that did make her smile despite the bulky bandage. “I’m okay, just rattled. I promise.”
Suddenly Leese looked up the hallway, then stepped out of view.
Merissa heard the heavy, hurried footsteps, heard Leese talking fast, and a second later Armie filled the doorway.
Their gazes clashed, and oh God, she lost it all over again. The tears welled up, her throat tightened. She tried to swallow but couldn’t.
Without a word, Armie cut through everyone else and reached her.
* * *
ARMIE BARELY NOTICED the others in the room. He’d left Lea in the hallway with Leese. Cannon was talking to him. But all his focus was on Rissy.
She reached out to him and he gathered her close, slipping one arm under her thighs, the other behind her back. Scooping her in close, using ultimate care, he moved with her to the other side of the curtain and an empty chair.
“Shh,” he begged in a voice gone thick with emotion. “Baby, please don’t cry.”
The awful, racking sobs continued.
With his forehead to hers, he whispered, “Tell me what hurts. What can I do?” She held one arm close and when he looked at it, his heart dropped. “Your arm.”