Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(90)

“Son of a bitch,” I groaned.

The guy was huge, so there wasn’t much I could do except for kick the door shut so he hopefully didn’t see her. The gun vanished during the scuffle; that was probably my only saving grace. Because, as much as I wanted to destroy that piece of shit, I figured killing him might not help my pleas for leniency in court. So, while I couldn’t do much to fight against him without a weapon, my only other option was to draw him away.

His fist landed hard against my face just as my foot stomped the bleeding hole in his thigh. He howled in pain, allowing me the opportunity to climb to my feet and haul ass back to the front door. I swear to God it took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to roll my eyes as I heard his grunts as the dumbass limped after me.

After I’d reached the doors, I was fighting with the locks, trying to get them undone, when the insane ogre finally caught up. Steeling my shoulders, I braced for impact. He plowed into me—just seconds after I’d twisted the final lock open.

I couldn’t even count how many times his fists landed on my face. But, as officers rushed in, I took every single blow with a smile, knowing that, for the first time in my life, I’d finally done right by my kids.





“I’M NOT SCARED,” I WHISPERED, sinking even deeper into his arms. The warmth of his strong chest pressed into my back, reminded me of the security that only existed when I was with him. “I knew you’d come.” I turned my head to nuzzle against his bicep, his arms tightening around me. “I’m safe with you, Quarry,” I mumbled—my words from all those years ago, wholeheartedly believing them all over again.

Even if he was only in my imagination, nothing could hurt me when I was in his arms.

Not Davenport.

Not knives.

Not guns.

Not pain.

Not fear.

Not when I was with him.

“Just a few more minutes,” I whispered.

A tear dripped off my chin, joining the growing collection in my lap.

“Just a few more minutes.” I repeated.

Not even a second later, a soundless sob tore from my throat as Otis Redding’s White Christmas filled the silence.

My breath caught on a shudder. “He’s coming.”





The officers had just gotten Davenport in cuffs, and I didn’t wait for a sign, nor did I ask for permission before I rushed into the community center in search of Liv.

“She’s in the supply closet in the hall,” Clay called out as he lay face down in a pair of cuffs.

My heart stopped, and the very idea of her hiding in a dark closet made me want to kill Davenport that much more. And I’d already wanted to watch him burn alive. Now, even that was too kind.

That would have to wait though.

I paused only long enough to press the power button on the speaker system, turning it as loud as it could go before sprinting down the hall.

“Rocky!” I yelled over the Christmas music. I began snatching door after door open, finding each one empty. With only one left at the end of the hall, I sucked in a deep breath, holding it as I slowly opened the door.

There she was.

Still breathing.

Heart still beating.

Scared to f*cking death, hiding in a motherf*cking closet.

But she was still alive.

Still mine.

Forever.

“Liv,” I said softly, dropping to my knees beside her.

Her arms were wrapped around her legs, her forehead resting on her knees. She flinched when I brushed her hair off her shoulder.

“Are you okay, baby?”

I could barely hear her when she asked, “Are you really here?”

My voice lodged in my throat. I couldn’t be positive of the answer, but if it were a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

“Yeah, Rocky. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

All at once, she dove into my arms. Burrowing her face in my neck, she clung to my shoulders as sobs ravaged her. “I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Shhh. You did good.” I stood up with her in my arms.

Leo was just outside the door, his pale face etched with relief. I was sure it matched my own.

“I knew you’d come.”

“Always.” I kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

I carried her into a breakroom across the hall. Settling in a chair, I held her securely tucked against my chest. Her mom, along with Till and Flint, appeared in the doorway, and Leo paced the length of the room, only stopping to snap his fingers when an officer would try to interrupt us.

The Christmas music had been turned down, but it still softly played in the background as I allowed her the time to collect herself.

“Is…is Don okay?” she finally asked.

“Don?” The proverbial light bulb went off above my head. “Oh, God. Is the old guy your assistant?” If I hadn’t been holding her safely in my arms, that would have been the moment my blood began to boil all over again.

She nodded without looking up.

“He’s fine,” I said shortly, looking to Leo, Till, and Flint, whose angry faces told me they were sharing my little realization.

“Can I see him?”

“No,” we all snapped entirely too roughly given her current state.

Her head popped up, and she looked at me before nervously flashing her gaze around the room. “Why not?” she asked in a shaky voice.