Page 109 of Protected from Malice
Rafe exhales heavily. “Okay.” I can practically hear his jaw grinding. “Okay. Just stay there, baby. Alright? I’m on my way.”
“Should… should I call the police?”
There’s a brief hesitation before he replies darkly, “No. We don’t need the police.” And then, with the promise of danger in his voice, “I’lltake care of it.”
CHAPTER 18
RAFE
I thoughtI knew what true rage felt like before.
I thought I knew after Indy was hurt. After Mandy was killed.
Butthis.
The woman I love is hiding in a bathroom, sobbing in fear, while the fucking monster who raped her is on the other side of the door.
Who is he? How did he get there?
What are the fucking odds?—
Does it really matter?
All that really matters is getting to Eden. Making sure she’s safe. And then…
ThenI’ll deal with that piece of garbage.
Make damn sure he never,everhurts Eden again.
After waving my ID at the security guard stationed at the front entrance, I blow through the metal detectors without setting them off. I wish I could have my weapon on me, but the strings Tyler pulled to get me access to the building only go so far.
Once it was decided Eden was going back to work, there wasn’t a chance I’d allow it to happen without being able to get to her quickly. But in all the scenarios I conjured up in my mind—an unbalanced employee taking his coworkers hostage or an angry protester raging against the pharmaceutical industry—I never imaginedthis.
After more than two years of nothing, suddenly, here he is.
In the west wing of the building. Basement level.
At least, I hope he still is.
Uncaring of the curious looks I’m receiving, I sprint past reception, bypassing the elevator to take the stairs instead. I’ve studied this building inside and out, so I know exactly where Eden’s located. Less than a two-minute run, which still feels an eternity too long.
Once I get into the stairwell, I practically fling myself down it, using the railing as a counterpoint for balance. With each step, my rage fans even hotter and more intense.
It’s all-encompassing, this storm of emotion I’m caught in. It comes in alternating waves of rage, guilt, vengeance, and absolute desperation.
Reason—that tiny voice shoved to the back corner of my mind—reminds me that Eden’s locked in the bathroom. From the inside. That there’s no way this fucker can get to her. That it’s only been a few minutes since I received Eden’s frantic call while I sat in my car in the parking lot.
Because I wasn’t leaving her. Not today. Not when I felt nauseous at the thought of it. Not when I had to fight myself half a dozen times not to turn the car around and bring her back home.
I make it to the door that leads to the basement hallway, then force myself to stop for a second. Instinct is driving me onward, telling me to fly down the hallway and tear this fucker from limbto limb, but I know I need to be smart about this. I need to think like I did when I handled the man who killed Mandy.
No, I’m not going to kill him right now. As much as I’d like to, I can’t do that here.
But he’s going to be punished. Of that, I’m sure.
Before I leave the stairwell, I send a quick text to Eden.
I’m coming. Are you safe?
