Chapter 14
Blinded by fury was real.
The club disappeared, bathed in shadows as Rocco honed in on the threat. He plunged forward, entering the hallway. Easing the door open, he slipped inside and moved quickly toward the target, making no sounds as he crossed the room. His instincts hadn’t been wrong.
The man he’d seen Jemma with on the dance floor now had her pinned against the wall, trapping her. She looked dazed and disoriented. Her body was listless as her eyes locked onto the syringe pressed against her neck. What worried him the most was that she didn’t struggle or fight back. Whatever he’d done to Jemma had rendered her unable to get away.
Closing the distance between them, Rocco kept to the shadows. He’d need to time his attack perfectly to maintain the advantage. He didn’t know if Jemma could see him. If she knew that he was here to help. Or if her brain could only focus on the disgusting things the bastard was screaming at her. A sick, twisted monologue of what he’d do to her sexually once the drugs were in her system.
What the fucker didn’t know was that his plans were about to be wrecked. Rocco leaped forward and snaked his arm around the man’s neck, jerking him backward. Jemma collapsed into a heap on the floor.
“Fuck!” The man growled. “Let me go!”
Grabbing the hand holding the syringe, Rocco moved it swiftly toward the man’s chest. The needle plunged through clothes and skin with ease.
“No …” the man’s words were a desperate plea as he thrashed and bucked. He fought to remove his hand from Rocco’s grasp, but Rocco was stronger, fueled by a need to punish the bastard for trying to hurt Jemma.
Rocco pressed against the man’s thumb, forcing him to inject himself.
Whatever the asshole had planned would be his fate. He’d be the one suffering, not Jemma.
Releasing his hold on the man, Rocco shoved him toward a pile of boxes. The man stumbled, hands fumbling to remove the syringe. He spun around and faced Rocco.
“You will pay for this,” the man said, taking a lumbered step toward Rocco. Before he could take a second step, he crashed to the ground in a motionless heap.
Rocco rushed over to Jemma.
She lay unconscious on the floor. A scar dripped blood from the side of her head. Scooping an arm under her neck, he checked her pulse. Strong enough. He wouldn’t waste time trying to wake her now. Who knew how long the drugs would affect that asshole or if he had friends who would come looking for him?
He had to get them out of here. Slipping out of his sports jacket, he placed it onto Jemma, securing the buttons to cover her. He lifted her into his arms and gazed at her face. She looked peaceful and serene. A sleeping beauty. Nothing like a woman who’d almost been assaulted in the back room of a club.
Rocco’s heart seized at the thought of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t followed her. If he’d chosen a different club to go to tonight. Would he have lost her?
What the fuck was he thinking?
He didn’t have Jemma.
They were colleagues. Nothing more.
“Fuck,” Rocco muttered as he carried Jemma through an exit and into the alleyway. Who did he think he was fooling? He wanted to be more than Jemma’s colleague. Thankfully, work would force them to separate in a few days.
A hollowness settled in his chest at the thought.
He ran through the narrow streets of La Placita until he reached his car, parked a few blocks away. Easing Jemma into the backseat, he took back roads to avoid the traffic.
As he barreled through red lights and sped to his condo, his mind kept going back to one thing—the look on Jemma’s face as the man held the syringe to her neck. Her face was calm. She wasn’t trying to fight back. It was as if she was resigned to her fate. Accepted some punishment she believed she deserved.
But maybe he was reading too much into what he thought he’d seen.
The dark purple bruises visible on her deep brown skin proved the fucker had worked her over good. She could’ve been too hurt to fight back.
Slowing as he approached his place, tucked in a row of renovated former warehouses, Rocco pressed his garage door opener and pulled his car inside.
He lifted Jemma from the car, pleased that her pulse and breathing were still strong and steady. He’d take care of her tonight. But in the morning, he wanted answers.