Page 24 of Hotter than Wildfire

This, then, was the end. She’d run, but not hard enough or fast enough or far enough.

A wheezing, keening sound escaped her lips. It would have been a high-pitched scream but she simply didn’t have enough breath in her lungs to bring it out. Just the whimpering tones of a wounded animal as she tried run away, bare feet scrabbling for purchase against the slick sheets.

She tried to sit up, but only managed to thrash around helplessly. The IV line was ripped out of her hand and blood pooled out under the bandage.

“Jesus, stop.”

The man, this Harry Bolt, stood up immediately and placed huge hands on her shoulders, pinning her down, looking down at her with a frown.

Even in her desperation, Ellen could see he looked ten years older, deep grooves creasing his cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, cheekbones more prominent.

She struggled against his hands, but it was like struggling against a concrete block. She couldn’t move his hands, not even a little bit. They stayed strong and steady on her shoulders, holding her down.

It was the most horrible thing of this horrible situation. She had no chance, none at all. The times she’d escaped Gerald’s men she’d done it by reacting quickly, making the smart decision, moving fast.

Everything that had helped her before—swift reflexes, strength, the will to survive—all of it was gone. Her mind was muddy, confused, slow. It had taken her a couple of seconds to even recognize Harry Bolt, as if her mind had to focus just as much as her eyes did.

Even her ineffectual attempts to shake off his hands exhausted her. There was nothing left in her. She’d reached the end of the line, muscles lax and unresponsive. And, deep down, at an animal level, she no longer had the will or the strength to fight.

It was over.

She made one last pathetic attempt to shake his hands off her and subsided, her spirit sinking into her, spiralling down. There was nothing left to her, nothing.

She closed her eyes and felt the cool tracks of her tears at her temples.

“God, don’t cry. Please.”

That deep voice again.

Hard, heavy hands lifted from her shoulders, took her hand in his. In a second, without pain, the needle was rethreaded into her vein, the bandage gently pressed again to the back of her hand.

Startled, Ellen opened her eyes again and met his. Where she’d been expecting victory and cruelty, all she saw was fatigue and…kindness?

What—?

They stared at each other, Ellen’s heart thudding slowly. “Are you going to kill me?” she finally whispered.

A spasm crossed his face and his head reared back. “Fuck no! Sorry.” He shook his head, looking baffled and worn out. He turned to the room behind him and bellowed, “Nicole!”

Ellen continued watching his face. No craziness, no cruelty. He held himself still, one finger pressed gently on the back of her hand, holding down the tape.

A swift tattoo of heels and a woman appeared in Ellen’s line of sight, bending over her.

Ellen nearly gasped. She was the most beautiful woman Ellen had ever seen. Long, midnight-black hair belling down to her shoulders, intense cobalt-blue eyes, fine features, a soft expression on her face.

Was this Harry Bolt’s woman? Was she the enforcer? Was she the one who would kill her?

It was like having spikes pounded into her brain. With the hand untethered by the IV line and Bolt’s hand, Ellen held her head where it hurt, so badly she whimpered again.

Never show weakness. It was a rule she’d lived by all her life, but right now, she was so weak she was rendered down to her rawest state.

Nicole lifted her hand and put it on her uninjured shoulder, the touch light and gentle. “It’ll be okay,” she said softly. “Everything will be all right.”

That was a lie. Nothing would ever be okay again.

Ellen turned her palm over, crooked her index finger in the universal come here gesture. Even that taxed her strength. Nicole bent down to her, holding her hair to one side. She smiled. “Yes?”

Ellen arched her neck, trying to get closer, lifting her head a little. It fell back. She had no strength in her neck muscles. Nicole bent closer.