eyes met his, bringing him to red alert. “Talk to me. What is it?” His eyes roved over her, noting anything wrong before they darted across the room, scanning for danger. He felt odd but, otherwise, saw no threat.
Keeley trembled next to him. He placed his massive arm around her snuggly. Instead of a protest—like he braced himself for—she curled into his side, reminding him of a frightened little girl. Careful of her wounds and cautious of her tender lower regions, he pulled her onto his lap. His chest was wet as he lifted her chin to see the tears flowing.
“Hold me tighter, please.”
Her shaky voice gentled him while it struck terror deep inside him. “Always,” he declared, cradling the precious beauty against his torso. He loved this difficult, troubled woman but understood if he told her that, she’d run away again. So, he bit his tongue and let his body speak with reassuring strokes, along her back, and soft hugs. He rubbed his nose against the top of her head, breathing her in.
How could he save her?
Her tiny hand caressed his jaw, bringing his gaze to hers. She whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you and caring about me.”
He heard the pain behind those words. Still, with a twin sister who adored her and a brother-in-law who would move heaven and earth for her, as well as a mother who welcomed her back with open arms, Keeley felt as if she were unworthy. Tar related to her more than she realized. He, too, had fought those demons, barely escaping. Now, she needed that strength. Would she accept his help? No. He knew she had to reach that point herself. Didn’t make it any easier, however, if she was to truly survive this, she’d have to want the help. He looked into those gorgeous, warm sable eyes and knew her soul was too troubled. All he could do was hope for her, for them. He had no intentions of living without her, so she better come to terms with that toot suite. She was his . And he would fight a legion of demons to protect her. Something told him that was exactly what he’d have to do. Damn good thing he was phenomenal in combat, for he acknowledged this was war.
A war for her soul.
A war for their future.
A war for true love.
Mentally Tar flipped off the darkness surrounding them with a silent, “Bring it, muthafuckers.”
Chapter Three
“Keeley?” Tar shook her again. “KEELEY!” His frantic voice brought her out of the drug induced sleep.
“Huh?” She blinked rapidly forcing her eyes to his face. Several emotions played across his handsome features as she attempted to decipher at least one of them. Fear was present and accounted for in the depths of those emerald irises, his hammering heartbeat cluing her in even more. In rapid fire, everything came back to life from underneath the drug-fog: Her entire body was a ball of pain, especially her womb. Instinct took over as her hand traveled down between her legs. Her mind providing the information she sought. Blood. A lot of it she realized. Keeley’s gaze was locked on her hand as she lifted it away from her private parts. “Oh. My. God.”
Tar moved swifter than he should have been able to considering his size. He shoved a blanket between her legs before cradling her to him and rising from the bed. His steps were purposeful as he called out, “Mitch! Where the fuck are you?”
The stocky man from the night before peered around the corner. “Here,” he answered.
“We have a situation, man.”
“Affirmative. You remember the first room we were in?”
“On my way,” Tar replied as his long strides ate up the dank corridor.
“What happened to me?” Keeley inquired.
He locked eyes with her and answered with a question of his own, “What do you remember?”
She cringed at that, but never responded. When Tar laid her down on the gurney, he realized why she passed out. He was just about to yell for Mitch again when the man in question appeared.
“Oh shit!” Mitch exclaimed,