Chapter 15 - Ranger #2
I squeezed her hands softly. “I know that you don’t feel this way right now, but you’re under the same roof with some of the most capable men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
And we have every reason to believe that not only is your friend being held at the law firm somewhere, but that she’s going to be alive when we find her. ”
She blubbered out a bit, and it broke my heart. “How can you b—be sure?”
“We just know, okay?” I said as I smoothed my thumbs along her skin without a second thought.
“Context clues. Things that we saw in the video. Her surroundings. It all paints a picture for us, which is why Ghost and I are going to go investigate things in a couple of days. But we can’t let them bait us, and that’s what they’re doing with this video.
They’re baiting us for a reaction, and we can’t give it to them. It puts you guys at risk.”
Tears slid down her face as that plump lower lip of hers quivered. “Don’t let them touch her. Please.”
I shook my head as I moved from the chair to perch on the edge of the bed. “I won’t. I promise.”
Her body trembled. “Did she look like she was wet?”
I paused. “Wet?”
“Like she was waterboarded?”
My blood froze in my veins. “Was that ever done to you?”
Her face collapsed. “Please, I couldn’t watch the video more than once. Just tell me. Did she look wet?”
A burning, sweeping anger filled my veins. “No, she didn’t look wet.”
Her words sobbed out. “Was sh-sh-she bleeding? On her chest? Like they whipped her?”
I couldn’t help the way my eyes flickered down to her chest before quickly rising back to her face. “No, the only blood Doc saw was on her face.”
Her chest hiccupped with another sob. “Wh-wh-wh—what about, um, what about h—her hair. I saw that they had cut it off in various lengths. Did… she look like her head was hurt… anywhere?”
The idea that someone had yanked on her hair enough to bruise her scalp twisted my insides into something akin to boiling rage.
I’d never felt an emotion like this before.
I was ready for murder.
“No,” I said softly as I reached up and brushed her tear trails off her cheeks. “Nothing like that. Doc clocked a possibly broken nose, like you. Some bruised ribs. Possibly a light concussion. But outside of that, nothing was noticed.”
“A-a-a—and… she—she had her clothes on, yes? I—I didn’t dream that?”
My poor, sweet Marla. “Yeah, she had all her clothes on.”
She leaned forward, gripping her stomach as she cried. She didn’t hold back. She didn’t try to bury it. She just… wailed.
“My poor Lizziiiiiiie.”
My heart shattered into a million pieces, and I couldn’t help what happened next.
“C’mere, I gotcha,” I whispered as I scooped her against my chest.
She curled against me like she was nothing but a tired little animal. Like a bunny rabbit who ran from the darkness of the world for far too long.
“Please fiiiiind heeeer,” she sobbed out against my chest.
I wrangled us into bed until she draped over me, crying against my chest. Her leg had itself tossed in between mine, and I lazily allowed my hand to explore up and down her clothed spine. Setting a rhythmic up and down.
Up and down.
Up and down.
“I gotcha,” I whispered softly, the two words becoming like a mantra between the two of us. “I gotcha, Marla. I’m right here.”
Every once in a while, she shoved against me like her mind convinced her that she needed to break out. I tightened my hold on her, and then I heard her breathing pick up.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said softly in her ear. “It’s just me. That’s my arm. It’s just me.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpered as she kicked her feet and shoved at me with her arms.
“Marla, hey,” I said, my voice a bit stronger.
“Have to get to her. Have to get to Lizzie,” she said breathlessly.
I placed my lips right up to the shell of her ear. “Marla.”
She flinched before she froze. Her voice was nothing but a whisper. “Miles.”
Like she had to remind herself of who had a hold on her.
“If you need me to let go, I will,” I muttered along the shell of her ear.
“But I’m not going to lie, I don’t think you want to be let go.
I think your body is scared, but I think you need reassurance in the form of physical touch that doesn’t hurt you.
So I’m going to need you to use your words. Do you want me to let you go?”
“I…”
I just waited patiently, my fingertips traveling aimlessly up and down her back.
“I don’t know,” she said softly.
Honestly.
“That’s okay,” I said as I relaxed back against the bed. “Then we’ll sit with that until you know what you want, and my arms won’t move from their spots. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
There was a heavy silence that descended on us before her soft crying started up again. She shivered in my grasp, and I resisted the urge to hold her even closer.
“Ssshhh,” I hushed softly. “It’s just me. It’s just you. It’s just us. I gotcha.”
“B-b-b-but—who’s—got Lizzie?”
I closed my eyes and gave myself a moment to gather myself. “Me and Ghost will have her.”
She sniffled. “Promise?”
I knew it was dangerous, promising something like that. But I had to try.
I had to give her hope.
“Promise,” I muttered.
She hiccupped out another soft sob. “Hold me tighter? The pressure’s nice.”
I wasted no time tucking her head beneath my chin before wrapping both of my arms snugly around her.
“You let me know if it’s too tight,” I murmured as I buried my nose into her hair.
She smelled like the shampoo from my shower.
I just focused on the fact that this beautifully strong, perfect woman smelled like me while she cried in my arms.