Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Again.
God, the young woman had suffered things at the hands of sick men no woman should ever experience. Most of the men involved in the trafficking ring were killed or arrested the night the Handlers rescued Brenna and Kelsie.
Most, but not all. Ty knew some were still out there, and if he ever came across them, they’d breathe their last breaths in his presence.
Finding a spot to park his bike took way too fucking long, and by the time he walked into the lobby of the hospital, he was vibrating more than his damn motorcycle.
“Ty!”
He whirled around to find Brenna speed-walking his way.
She held up a hand before he could ask one of the million questions on his tongue. “I haven’t seen her. They won’t let me since I’m not family. All I know is that she’s on the fifth floor, room five twenty-seven.”
“Room five twenty-seven. Got it, thanks.” He strode down the hall toward the elevators.
“Ty, they won’t let you anywhere near her right now. When she came in, she was delirious, so they had to give her Ativan. She’s snowed right now, but we can visit once she wakes up and gives consent.”
If she gave consent.
The unsaid words hung heavily between them. Would Kelsie allow them to visit? She’d run from them and their offer of help only two months ago. Had whatever happened to her today changed her mind?
Ty didn’t care if she wanted their help or not. This time, she’d accept it if he had to tie her to his bike and drive her to the shelter himself.
He turned and faced Brenna as he back-walked down the hall. “They can’t fucking keep me from her,” he said with enough venom, Brenna’s eyes widened.
“Well, actually… Tyler!”
He spun away from a frustrated Brenna, bypassed the slow-as-fuck elevator, and yanked open the door to the stairwell. Even though he was forty-six, he kept in good shape and had no problem jogging the four flights to Kelsie’s floor. Barely winded, he burst into the hall and stormed past the nurse's station. A few gasps and shocked gawks followed him, but he ignored them and stalked toward Room 527 with all the confidence of a man who belonged right there.
“Excuse me, sir!” A tall nurse with short, choppy hair called after him as he reached Kelsie’s room. “You’re not supposed to—”
He speared her with a glare that had her shrinking back and avoiding his gaze. A six-foot-three man covered in tattoos with a death stare would do that to most people.
Back the fuck off. I’ll tear down anyone who keeps me from Kelsie.
No doubt the nurse would call security, but he only needed a minute. A few seconds to finally satisfy the need that had been riding him hard for the past two months. All he wanted was to lay eyes on her. He stayed awake each night, wondering where she was, what she was doing, and if she was scared, lonely, or hurt.
The reason for his obsession didn’t require an advanced degree to understand—he’d been the one to carry her out of hell, and now he felt a responsibility toward her. It was a basic rescuer-hostage relationship—nothing deeper.
Nothing. Deeper.
No matter what that little voice in the back of his mind tried to whisper. He’d always been a fucker anyway.
Careful not to be too loud, Ty nudged the door to Room 527 open. The sharp odor of antiseptic tickled his senses, making his nose wrinkle.
He fucking hated hospitals. Everything about them, from their stark white walls to the crunchy mattresses to the staff bustling around trying to keep everyone from kicking the bucket. The places reeked of sadness and disease.
A fucking downer, for sure.
He stepped up to the bed. A tall IV pole held a bag of medicine pumping into Kelsie’s arm. She lay still in the bed, on her back, with a thin pink blanket pulled over her waist. The thing looked scratchy as hell. Couldn’t they spring for something a little comforting in this fucking place?
Ty made a mental note to bring her something softer on his next trip. And there would be another one. She was pale, unusual at this time of year for someone who lived in Florida. It also looked as though she’d lost a good ten to fifteen pounds since he’d last seen her, and she’d been thin then. At least that was an easy fix. After a few weeks of good meals with the club, she’d be right back to a healthy weight.
He clenched his fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. To make sure the body lying before him wasn’t a mirage. How many minutes had he spent wondering about her over the past two months? His pulse thudded in his ear as he scanned the length of her, starting with her beautiful, serene face. She really was pretty, with blonde hair, smooth skin, and a look of peace she hadn’t worn in the short time he’d known her. Sedatives would do that to a person.