All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(26)

“Run!” Callaghan shouted as he fought with Pritchard, grunting as the inmate landed a blow to his bruised ribs.

The sound of his bellowed command reverberated through her. He was helping her? He was on her side . . .

Snapping out of her astonishment, her gaze swept the room, landing on the gun several feet away. She jumped off the bed and scrambled toward it, but Gronsky was on her, his hand clamping down on her calf and bringing her down on the ground with a sharp cry.

She twisted and started kicking at him with the heel of her foot. He howled, blood flowing more freely from his face, but he didn’t release her. He clawed up her body with digging fingers. She struggled against him, scrabbling and scratching, desperate to carve out a piece of him.

He spat hot curses as he cocked back his fist and nailed her in the face with an iron fist. Pain and fire erupted in her cheek, radiating outward to her jaw. She was going to be sick. She went limp, blackness edging in on her vision.

Dimly, she heard a roar, and then Gronsky was gone. His weight off her. Wheezing for breath, she rolled to her side, holding her face and fighting off nausea.

She blinked several times, bringing her vision into focus. Callaghan lifted the inmate up off his feet with a growl that sounded like it was wrenched from the depths of him—then slammed him back down onto the concrete. Gronsky’s head struck the floor with a sickening smack. He collapsed there. Stunned. Maybe dead. She didn’t know.

Chest heaving, Knox staggered one step and stopped before her. She gazed up at him, feral and wild, blood dripping from a fresh cut to his mouth. She pushed unsteadily to her knees. He reached for her arm, helping her to her feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, a sob threatening to break loose from her chest. She pressed her lips tight to deny it, but then a rush of movement behind him made her scream.

Knox whirled around as Pritchard charged them. Knox shoved her back. The collision propelled her into a bed. Gasping, she arched away, her fingers clutching the edge of a mattress behind her. Before she had time to react, to search for the gun again, a flash of reflected light hit her in the face.

A pop of gunfire shattered the world in an explosion of glass.

A man screamed. Then there was another pop.

Knox tackled her, wrenching her to the floor. “Stay down!” he shouted.

“What’s happening?” she croaked.

She lifted her head to see what was going on, but he slapped a hand on her head and forced her back down. “Damn it, they’re shooting!”

In that brief glimpse she saw that half the windows lining the wall were gone, presumably the result of a sniper positioned on the building across from them. Someone was moaning not far from her, but she couldn’t see who.

Suddenly, the room erupted with the arrival of black-vested men holding rifles, shouting directives that she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t find her voice. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. She could only stare into the pair of blue eyes boring down into hers.

Even as he was hauled off her and dragged away, she felt connected to those eyes, that face, that man.

Knox Callaghan had saved her life.





TEN


“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want to stay the night? You’ve been through quite an ordeal, Briar,” Dr. Walker said from where he reclined on his hospital bed. His wife sat beside him, holding his hand, the worry still etched in the gentle lines of her face.

Briar inhaled, the smell of antiseptic and industrial strength laundry detergent sharp in her nose, reminding her of the two semesters she completed her hospital rotations. Some people hated hospitals, but they comforted her. They were where the broken were made whole again. Most of the time at least.

Given the beating Dr. Walker took, they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. Fortunately, nothing was broken, but he wasn’t a young man or particularly strong either. Josiah was lucky, too, resting comfortably in a room down the hall. She’d already paid him a visit after being released from the ER.

It was a miracle the three of them were alive.

Murphy, on the other hand, had been rushed into surgery and they had yet to hear word.

“I just really want to crawl into my own bed and sleep for like three days.” She’d endured the ER examination and answered all the questions from the prison personnel who immediately besieged them. It was almost midnight now, and today was officially the longest of her life. She just wanted to go home.

“Well, don’t think of coming in on Monday. Or Tuesday. Take the week even. Maybe you should see a therapist before returning—”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Just need a little down time. Don’t worry about me.” From the concerned look in his eyes, she knew it was pointless. He was going to worry.

“Briar. You’ve been through a trauma.” Mrs. Walker covered her husband’s hand, wincing as she eyed Briar’s face. Briar knew she looked like a train wreck. The CT scan confirmed nothing was broken in her face, but it would be a while before the swelling went down and she no longer resembled a prizefighter fresh from a match. “Are you sure you don’t want us to call your parents?”

Briar hated being pitied and viewed as something broken. That’s why growing up she had let the world think her dad was the greatest guy. She worked hard all her life not to let anyone know that her home life was essentially an after-school special.