Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(19)

“Looks like neither of us is going to get off today, slut. Get the f*ck up!”

When he went to the bed and grabbed Savannah’s arm, a gut-wrenching scream poured from her. Damián had had enough. He grabbed the man by the back of his suit coat and pulled him away from her. “Get the f*ck out!”

The man stood and addressed him as if he were a bug to squash under his shoe. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, wetback?”

“Keep a low profile and mind your own business…?”

Fuck that shit. When the man took a swing at his face, Damián blocked it with his left forearm, then rammed his right fist into Jerk-off’s soft underbelly. The man doubled over, gasping for air. Damián waited to deliver another blow, but the man reached out for the nightstand and straightened up. He obviously hadn’t grown up in Damián’s neighborhood. Finished with one blow. Some tough guy.

His voice came out like a wheezing whisper. “You’re going to regret this.”

But Damián knew he’d have more regrets if he’d let the man hurt her any more.

*

Savannah pulled into herself, trying to escape the fiery pain. She could no longer identify one single source of discomfort. Nerve endings over her entire body screamed for relief.

Go to your cave, Savi. I am waiting.

She drifted toward the ceiling, out the window to the balcony, up the coast to the cave where she’d sought refuge so many times before. The waves crashed against the rocks. She walked carefully over the jagged edges, dodging sea urchins. Her flip-flops slipped as she climbed over the sharp rocks.

But this time, he pursued her. Faster. Run faster! He was close. So close. He grabbed her and pulled. The pain! Oh, God. She jerked away from him and ran faster. He let go just as she walked under the natural rock arch carved over centuries by water and wind. The sounds of the waves died down. The pain receded.

“Maman!”

Her mother had spread a picnic lunch on a blanket for them to enjoy. When she smiled and held out her hand, Savannah glided forward, her feet just hovering over the sand.

Safe. At last.

Savannah sank to the blanket and took Maman’s slender hand. She shivered. The air was cooler than usual inside the cave. Savannah stretched out on the blanket and laid her head in Maman’s lap, curling her legs up to her chest. Maman stroked her hair away from her face. She was always brushing the tangles from her long curls.

A shudder wracked Savannah’s body. Maman wrapped her in a warm blanket. Savannah didn’t remember seeing the blanket when she’d arrived. She smiled. Maman worked magic. She always knew how to make their time together here perfect.

The waves crashed far in the distance, but they couldn’t reach them here. A door slammed.

A door? In her cave?

Savannah’s brows furrowed.

“Here, querida. Drink this.”

She groaned. No! How had he found their secret cave? She fought against the man pulling her away from Maman. She sputtered and gasped as water entered her mouth. He captured her flailing hands. Was he trying to drown her? When had the tide come in?

“Shhh. He’s gone. Drink the water. It will help. You’re safe now.”

No, not safe until you’re gone. Leave us alone.

She clutched at Maman’s dress. “No!” But he pulled her away, dragging her over the sand-encrusted rocks that bit into her skin. Raw. On fire. She fought him, but he continued to tear her from her safe place. From Maman.

Someone screamed in anguish. Then the fiery pain washed over her thighs, *, and breasts and she realized it was she who screamed. A strong, hard body pulled her against him, wrapping a steel-banded arm around her waist and arms, holding her tight.

Claustrophobia. Smothering. She tried to push at him, but his chest was as hard as the rocks on the beach. Only smoother.

“I have you, querida. No one’s going to hurt you as long as I’m here. Just breathe slowly.”

With an effort, she managed to return her breathing to normal, as he’d told her to do. He spoke Spanish. The sadists hadn’t. His voice was gentle, oddly soothing to her jagged nerves, despite being a man’s.

Her chest hurt so badly, her nipples ready to explode. Ropes, quirt, electricity.

Good God! No, there was no God, good or otherwise. She moaned as images flooded her mind—the purple globe shocking her * and breasts. She’d tried so hard not to scream. She hadn’t wanted to give the sadists that satisfaction. But the pain. Oh, God, the pain had been the worst ever. She gasped on a sob.

“Shhhh, bebé. It’s over now.”

A strong hand stroked her hair. Comforting, but firm.

Safe.

At last.

Sleep now, Savi.

“Yes, Maman.”

*

Damián knew the moment she’d fallen asleep. Her body released its tension and she relaxed against him. Well, he’d never been mistaken for someone’s mother before. He smiled and pulled her closer.

She felt so fragile in his arms, as if he could break her if he touched her the wrong way. Her long, sun-streaked blonde hair was sleek and straight. He wanted to run his hands through it, but didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he pressed his face against her hair and inhaled her scent. Flowery. Clean.

An hour passed and she continued to sleep, not moving a muscle. Damián expected the police to arrive at any moment—but no one came. He couldn’t move her yet, certainly not on his Harley. Damián eased away from her and went into the sitting room to prop a chair against the suite entrance. He locked the bedroom door. Better than nothing. Might at least keep Jerk-off away from her.