Page 32 of Protect

With a sharp breath, I lunge, tackling Coach to the ground. We grapple and roll, trading blows. His fist cracks against my jaw, snapping my head back. I taste blood. Snarling, I hammer punches into his ribs, his face. Anywhere I can reach receives a blow. There’s no conflict in any punch. There’s a need to make him see what’s obvious to me. He dared me. He invited this. Every crack of bone, every grunt and groan under me. Every yelp he tries to quiet… he’s earned it.

Coach bucks beneath me, trying to throw me off. He’s strong, but I have youth and rage on my side. I slam my knee into his groin and he grunts in pain.

“You sick fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

He smiles up at me, his teeth red from blood rolling from his split lip. “Just like you.”

My chest heaves, my throat dry as I give one final punch against his temple and knock him out. I don’t want to hear him.I don’t want his comments, his reminders, any of it. He needs to shut up. He needs to let me think rather than act on instinct.

“I can’t let you go,” I whisper again and roll off him.

I grab some rope out of my bag and drag Coach’s unconscious body to the nearest tree and tie him up. Each knot drags the rope through my fingers, burning my palm. It’s good. It’s grounding. Every trace of pain is, just like knowing that he can’t escape.

He can’t gnaw through the rope. He can’t run and hide like the coward he is. He doesn’t get the police on his side now and he sure as hell doesn’t get to escape the consequences we’re going to deliver.

I stagger back, knuckles throbbing. It’s up to Hope what we do with him.

“Knox?” Dimitri calls out and I turn away from the man I looked up to for so many years.

“Is she okay?” I run up to Dimitri and my stomach churns as I see the look on his face.

No. Whatever he’s about to say, whatever details he’s going to give me, they’ll all boil down to the fact she’s not okay. We took too long. In some way or another—hell, maybe too many ways to count at this point—we’ve failed her. I just hope we still have time to make it right. I cling to it while Dimitri works on choosing his words.

He meets my eyes and answers carefully, “She’s coming to, slowly.”

My brows twitch and I follow him inside.

We walk past a small room, one without any windows. I peek inside and take a breath. A small bed, a bucket, and nothing else. It’s hardly fit for an animal, a goldfish, a fucking plant. “He kept her here,” I note.

Dimitri nudges my shoulder. “She stayed there for most of the time.”

I nod as my insides twist. They told me about the video, I’ve seen a glimpse of it, but to see the room… it tears something inside me. not wanting to think about what happened in there. I give the room one more look and walk with him as he rounds the corner to the living room. Jaxon sits on the floor, with Hope in his lap. Purple bruises paint her neck and face. They look like they’re still getting darker too. Only getting worse to reveal the full extent of what he put her through.

My throat tightens. “I went too easy on him,” I mumble.

Hope stirs slightly, squirming and panting. She’s awake. She’s conscious. Fuck, that’s a good sign. I exhale slowly and step forward. She cringes, trying to curl in on herself. She’s not shaking, she’s crying. God, just weeks ago, she was standing up for herself, she was smiling and laughing with men double her size. She was confident and whole and…

“Hope, sweetheart, it’s us,” Jaxon rasps, fighting to keep his voice steady. “It’s Jaxon, Dimitri, and Knox. We’re here. You’re safe now.”

I inch closer, hands up and open. My next step makes the wood below me squeak and Hope looks my way. She lashes out weakly and it breaks my fucking heart to see her like this—broken, battered, terrified. She looks like a cornered animal. Ready to lash out, to defend herself in any possible way to ensure she lives.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again,” I swear. “Especially not him.” I take another careful step, holding her gaze.

She pauses, takes a breath, and looks at me, really looks at me. I can tell she doesn’t believe me. Her eyes snap over my shoulder and then she glances at Dimitri, and she is clearly trying to determine how she can escape, if she should escape, and what’s going on. She’s alive. Alive is what matters. Everything else we can fix.

At least, that’s what I try to convince myself of.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Dimitri says, and she frantically shakes her head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up first. Let us take care of you, please,” Jaxon pleads, and she hesitantly peeks up at him.

She’s shivering, eyes and cheeks soaked with her tears. That doesn’t hide how lost she looks, how broken. She’s raw, vulnerable, frayed at the edges, but I know we can take care of her. That’s all we want to do. It’s all any of us care about. We came to save her, to claim her, to protect her. That’s what ownership means.

Let us in, Hope.

Let us protect you.

Twelve

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