Fever (Breathless #2)(22)

“Jace Crestwell,” he said shortly, still glaring at Ash.

“Mr. Crestwell, this is Kate Stover from St. Anthony’s Women’s Shelter.”

Jace’s pulse accelerated and he dropped into his chair, shutting Ash out. “Yes, Ms. Stover, how are you?”

“She’s here,” Kate said bluntly. “She just came in. She’s . . . hurt.”

His stomach bottomed out and fear was thick in his throat. “What? What happened?”

“I don’t know. As I said, she only just arrived. I have her sitting down and I’m making her a cup of hot chocolate now. She doesn’t look good, Mr. Crestwell. She’s clearly frightened and exhausted and, as I said, she’s injured.”

“Sit on her if you have to,” Jace growled. “I don’t care what you have to do. Do not let her leave before I get there.”

He shoved the phone into his pocket and surged out of his chair. As he passed Ash, his friend’s hand shot out to grab Jace’s arm.

“What the f**k, man? What’s going on?”

Jace jerked his arm from Ash’s grasp. “I’m going to get Bethany. She’s hurt.”

Ash swore and shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”

Jace left his office and entered the hallway. He could hear Ash hurrying up behind him as he reached the elevator.

“I’ll go with you,” Ash said in a grim voice.

Jace stepped onto the elevator and when Ash would have followed, Jace put his arm out to block his friend. With his other hand, he punched the button for the bottom floor and then pushed Ash back.

“Stay out of this, Ash,” Jace warned in a soft tone. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Ash’s nostrils flared and his eyes blazed a moment. Jace knew it was a shitty thing to say, but then Ash had been pretty shitty himself.

“Yeah, you’re right. You don’t concern me at all,” Ash said, heavy sarcasm laced in his voice.

He pushed back from the elevator allowing it to close, his lips tight as Jace disappeared from view.

Chapter nine

Jace ordered his driver to the shelter and told him to step on it. He couldn’t be certain that Bethany would stick around, and he wasn’t about to take any chances. Not when she’d already disappeared on him once.

Kate had said Bethany was injured and his mind was filled with images, none that were good. They hadn’t gotten into specifics. Jace had been too impatient to get to her. How the hell had she gotten hurt?

A woman alone on the streets . . . There were 1,001 ways for her to get hurt and every one of them made Jace’s gut clench.

When his car pulled up in front of the shelter, he directed his driver to wait. Hopefully he wouldn’t be long, but he was prepared for anything.

He strode toward the entrance, the wind biting through his coat. When he opened the door, his gaze immediately swept the room, searching out Bethany. Then, finally, he saw her. In the back. Off to one side, away from the others. She was sitting in a chair, pale and looking lost. Still, he drank in the sight of her, relieved beyond words that she was here. He could see that her pants were torn at the knees and on one side. He could also see the bloodstains on her clothing and the raw scrapes on her elbows. What the ever-loving hell?

Before he could start over, Kate stepped in front of him, her face creased with worry.

“Will you be taking her with you, Mr. Crestwell?”

“Oh yes,” he said quietly. “She’s coming with me. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Kate’s expression eased. “Good. I worry about her. About all of them.”

He started to step forward, eager to get to her and to see how badly she was hurt, but Kate stopped him once more.

“I want to thank you,” she said in a soft voice. “For everything. The heat. The food. The generous donation. Look around you, Mr. Crestwell. All these women have a warm place to sleep and food to eat because of you.”

Jace grimaced, uncomfortable with her gratitude. He nodded briefly and then headed for Bethany. Her eyes were closed. She looked asleep sitting up. He took the opportunity to study her more closely and he swore at what he saw.

She looked even thinner if possible. There were shadows under her eyes. She was pale.

And she was hurting.

He knelt quietly in front of her. As soon as she sensed his presence, her eyes flew open and she flinched away, panic firing in her eyes.

“It’s all right, Bethany,” he murmured.

Her eyes widened and he was gratified to see that her fear disappeared, but it was quickly replaced by confusion.

“Jace?”

His name came out a cautious whisper, almost as if she didn’t believe it was him kneeling in front of her. Then she straightened and she turned her hands inward, hiding the scrapes and the blood.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a trembling voice.

His expression hardened and he stood. Her gaze followed him up and without saying anything, he simply reached down and plucked her slight weight from the chair.

She landed softly against his chest and he cradled her possessively, determined that nothing else would hurt her. Then she stiffened and her mouth fell open with a gasp.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

He strode toward the door, his grip tightening when she began to struggle.