Page 96 of Sutton's Shadow

Wyatt heard the roar before realizing it came from his own lungs. Pushing the pain in his leg out of his consciousness, he lurched up, his fist striking the smug man’s gut. He got his feet under him, rising to face off with the man who’d hurt his Sutton.

“She will always be mine. Nothing you can do will change that.” He leaned heavily on his uninjured leg but would not let that stop him from taking the bastard down. He ducked a meaty fist that flew at his face before following with an uppercut that sent his opponent’s head snapping back.

That pissed the guy off. Another fist flew at him, narrowly missing his jaw, but his second fist made contact with his gut. A rush of air tore out of his lungs.

Sutton cried out. He sensed movement and raised his head in time to see the knife coming at him. He put his arm up to block the jab and earned a slice on his forearm for his troubles.

The man stood back, out of reach, grinning like a fool. Wyatt wanted to roll his eyes at the arrogance in the guy who thought the slash on his arm was more than the paper cut Wyatt thought it to be. He’d had worse wounds during his days as a Ranger. This smarmy jackass would not take him down with that puny knife.

With a lunge, the asshole thrust out with the weapon, which he held in the wrong position if he intended to inflict any damage. Wyatt easily blocked the stab. He tried several more times to cut Wyatt with no success, his anger soon getting the better of him.

Wyatt had had enough. When his adversary attacked again, Wyatt grabbed the wrist with the knife and pulled him closer. Just a slight twist, and the blade dropped to the floor. Now the smug asshole was enraged. He lifted a leg to kick him, but Wyatt was quicker, knocking his other leg out from under him.

He went down but popped back up as Wyatt struggled with his balance because of his injured leg. That distraction cost him. The man charged him, tackling him to the floor. They went down hard, fists swinging in every direction they could make contact with the other.

They rolled, Wyatt ending up on top, straddling the asshole. He punched; blood gushed from his nose. He punched again, splitting his lip, allowing more blood to cover his face. He kept striking, even as the guy landed some blows to his back and kidneys.

The enemy weakened, and hands clawed at his face, his arms, trying to deter the ferocity of his strikes, until he eventually stopped moving.

But Wyatt’s rage wasn’t done storming. He wanted this guy to suffer for the pain he’d caused Sutton. And he would have killed him if Jude hadn’t stopped him.

“He’s done,” Jude barked, holding Wyatt’s fist before he could bash his adversary’s face in again. “Sutton.”

That one word diverted his attention. His head whipped around. Logan was tending to her. He’d released her from her bonds and was treating her injuries. Her head was down, with her hair hanging forward, hiding the damage to her face.

He took a deep breath before going to her and falling to his knees in front of her. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he scanned her from head to toe, his gaze snagging on her sliced up and bloodied wrists. He reached out to touch one, but she flinched. His heart dropped into his stomach.

Guilt tore through him, a dagger stabbing through his core. He’d done that to her. He’d made her unsure of her place. Made her fearful. He’d caused her more pain and left her with no choice but to withdraw back into herself. He hated it. He hated himself for causing it.

Carefully, he cupped her face, lifting it until he could peruse her beautiful cornflower blue eyes. His gut twisted at the damage. “Sutton,” he whispered. A tear slipped out of her good eye, and he swiped it away with his thumb. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead, his heart thudding hard against his sternum. “Sutton. I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry.”

Everything else going on in the room around him went unnoticed while his lips remained on her skin. He inhaled her exotic, flowery scent. It grounded him, banking the worst of the flames of rage until only embers remained. She did that for him. He would do the same for her. He was hers, and he would give everything to eradicate the shadows that had come back to her eyes.

With her face still bracketed in his hands, he pulled back to examine her further. She tried to pull out of his clasp, to move away and hide from him again, but he refused to give her that. His hand dove into her hair at the nape. Guiding her face to his neck, he held her there.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. You both are,” he crooned, reassuring her that Bethany was safe and sound as well.

Her body tensed; choppy breaths fanned over his skin. The rapid beat of her heart pounded against his chest, matching his own brusque rhythm. He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her trembling frame close.

The hitch in her breath was so diminutive, yet it seemed to echo through the room like a cannon. It struck his soul, pinging off his heart, leaving him breathless and desperate. Then he felt it. Her hands fisted his shirt at his back as she sagged into him.

For as long as he lived, he would never forget the sensation of her giving in to the comfort his arms could provide. Nor would he forget the heart-wrenching sob that rang through the cavernous room or the tears that soaked into his skin.

There would be words of love later. For now, he could show her his love for her while holding her tight, safe. He would never give her a reason to doubt his love again. She was his, and no matter what the future held for them, she would always be his.

SuttonsobbedintoWyatt’sneck. He held her tightly while she let go of everything she’d carried with her for two years. It was the tender look of love as he’d catalogued her injuries that had broken through the dam. He’d come for her. She was in his arms.

The hollow parts that guilt and loss had carved into her were sealed with him.

He pressed his lips to her temple, over the beauty mark he so obviously loved. Her pulse was choppy, erratic, as she sorted out the feelings infusing inside her. They were almost too numerous to tackle.

But the one thing she knew for sure was the longer he held her, the more he imbued in her a strength she didn’t think she’d ever be capable of again.

She glanced up at him. The raw, stripped expression she glimpsed shot straight through her heart. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“No, baby. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. I love the relationship you have with Bethany. I hope you’ll continue to teach her.”

“She’s okay?”

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