The Big Guns. HelenKay DimonЧитать онлайн книгу.
skills to protect Sela. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
SELA SAT ON THE COUCH and rubbed her knee. The chair barricading the door ensured she couldn’t get out before Zach could get to her.
But that didn’t stop her from talking. “Zach, you’re not listening to me.”
He stopped counting the number of times she said that sentence. Pretty soon he’d need a calculator to do the addition. “That’s right.”
“You have a chance here.”
“Uh-huh. A chance.” He rattled around the kitchen drawers until he found rope sturdy enough to hold Johnnie once he regained consciousness.
Zach checked for weapons. Also looked for a phone and evidence of a partner or a real boss. This time.
Seeing Sela run into the dark woods had rocked his concentration enough to make him screw up that big. In his rush to get to her before anyone else could grab her, he’d failed to watch his flank. He’d let Johnnie launch an offensive strike that could have taken Sela out, anyway.
Zach wanted to kick his own butt for missing the obvious.
And Sela wanted to talk him to death.
Somewhere in the past few minutes she’d decided he was one of the bad guys and was set on redeeming him. She kept up her motivational speech from her seat on the couch. “You’re on a road to nowhere.”
“Actually, I’m not sure what town we’re in.”
“What?”
“Nowhere is probably ten miles to our east.” He wrapped the rope around Johnnie’s legs and arms and pulled tight, making a perfect military knot.
While Sela lobbied her position, Zach did what he could to stop the bleeding on Johnnie’s shoulder and chest. He added a gag, just in case Johnnie woke up yelling. As a final protection, Zach dragged the injured man across the floor and locked him in the tiny bathroom. No need to see him if he wasn’t conscious to answer questions.
“He could die in there,” she pointed out when Zach returned to stand in front of her at the couch.
“I’m rarely that lucky.”
“Zach.”
Hearing her say his name, with her big brown eyes all soft and hopeful, made him feel something. He couldn’t put a name to the feeling but an unsettling sense of lightness poured over him. Rather than deal with that unknown, he focused on his other problem. Getting them out of there alive.
She had other ideas. “You’re still not listening to me.”
“I’m trying very hard not to, but you sure are not making it easy.”
Her chin raised and a deep red stained her cheeks. He’d seen that look many times since he’d started watching her. There was something else, too. Her eyes, glazed with distress and fear, told a different story.
He felt like a piece of crap for not seeing it sooner. She had to be in pain. A bruise marked her soft skin. A torn blouse. Swollen knee. Seeing her hurt made him sick.
He didn’t dwell on the sympathy but there it was, pulsing in the dark spot in the back of his mind. “Let me see your leg and check that cut.”
She braced her hands against the sofa cushions. “I’m fine.”
And ticked off. The beautiful woman with the model face and stripper body definitely was not happy.
Leaning down on one knee, he met her face-to-face. “Don’t be a hero, Sela. You’re injured.”
“So are you. Johnnie landed a punch or two.”
Zach pretended to be offended. “Is that a comment on my manhood?”
“Take it however you want.”
“Men are sensitive about stuff like that, you know.”
“Johnnie needs medical attention.”
She knew how to kill a decent try at chitchat. “Like I care.”
“You’ll care if he’s dead and you’re on trial for his murder.”
“You’re the one who wanted to know why I didn’t shoot him earlier.”
“That was adrenaline talking.”
“Well, Johnnie is lucky I didn’t kill him.” Zach sent a disgusted look in the direction of the locked bathroom. “I might yet.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He scoffed. “Why would you think that?”
“You’re not a killer.”
The matter-of-fact way she said it stunned him. “Sounds as if you’ve had a change of heart about me.”
When he leaned forward, she pulled back, forcing her bruised body deeper into the couch cushions and away from him. “Not that much.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“If you want to help, drive me home. Call Trevor. Do whatever you need to do so I can talk to the police.” Her voice dropped. “Or just leave me alone.”
Hearing her talk about Trevor—her boss and suspected lover—made Zach’s jaw clench tight. “Not going to happen.”
“Which part?”
“Any part.” Especially the part where he left her alone.
He slipped his hands under the hem of her skirt. Ignoring her slapping hands and yelp of surprise, he skimmed what was left of her tattered stockings down her legs and ripped them from around her injured knee.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a voice more breathy than firm.
Yeah, what was he doing? More bad timing. This time his.
Concentrating on her bruise instead of the silky feel of her skin proved impossible. It hit him out of nowhere and without warning. He wanted her.
He knew she was messed up with Trevor, a man Zach despised. She was likely sleeping with the guy, caught up in whatever garbage Trevor had going. But no matter how hard Zach tried to make that matter, it didn’t. After all those days of watching her, studying her, Sela’s image played in his mind, and he could not figure out a way to shake her loose.
He swore under his breath, berating his lack of control. She’d been hurt and mistreated. She’d probably just experienced the worst three hours of her life. All he could think about was bunching that businesslike skirt around her waist.
He had become an animal.
“Well?” she asked.
He swallowed down a lump of unwanted attraction. “It’s not broken, just badly bruised and a bit cut up.”
“Tell me why,” she said.
“I’m not a medical expert, but a bruise has something to do with blood pooling under the skin.”
“Not that.” Her face didn’t show any emotion. “Why did you save me from Johnnie only to drag me back here and continue to keep me against my will?”
Because reinforcements were on the way. Zach knew if he had any hope of finding out the person behind Sela’s kidnapping, he needed to stay put. Knowing Adam was heading there right now made holding the position a bit easier, but Zach still hated being out in the open in a situation he couldn’t control.
“It’s not over,” Zach said.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you tend to talk in half sentences?”
“Once or twice.” With as gentle a touch as possible, he probed the area around her knee. Sela winced and squirmed but stayed quiet. He knew she feared letting him see her weakness. He admired that.
“Call the