Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Carter threw his weight against the door, and it finally gave way with a loud screech as the metal bent and the wood of the doorjamb cracked. His heart hitched, and the scene in front of him stole his ability to breathe.
The inside of the small trailer was almost completely empty.
The floors were covered in cheap vinyl, stained dark in places with God knew what.
The only thing of substance in the room was the stainless steel table in the middle of what should have been a kitchen, dated cabinets lining the wall.
But that wasn’t what grabbed his attention.
Audrey lay on the table, wrists and ankles bound, stripped down to nothing but her underwear.
The red trails of blood were stark against her pale skin that had been sliced open.
She was still—so still. She didn’t move, didn’t scream, didn’t even look his way.
Those azure eyes he knew so well stared vacantly at the ceiling, and a trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, down her cheek and onto the table beneath her.
He felt his lungs constrict and his heart tighten as fury billowed up, radiating through every inch of his body.
Ripping his gaze away from her, he slowly lifted it to the man standing over her.
The man’s eyes were crazed, his cheeks flushed pink, and in his hand he held a pair of channel locks. And was that…?
Oh, Christ. It was a tooth. Audrey’s tooth.
Carter still couldn’t believe he’d beaten the police here, but he’d left the VA and driven like a maniac, bent on reaching here before… He swallowed hard. Before this. This was the worst possible scenario, finding her too late.
Even when he’d first broken down the door, he’d planned to hold the man until the police arrived. He told himself over and over what he needed to do—what he should do—but seeing Audrey’s broken body lying there so lifelessly, all his plans flew out the window.
“You son of a—!”
Nate hurled the channel locks at him, probably hoping to slow him down, but Carter dodged them as he lunged forward.
He slammed into Nate just as the man snatched something from the counter behind him.
They went down in a tangle of limbs, landing hard on the floor.
Nate twisted beneath him, and Carter jerked backward as the man swung at him.
The glint of metal flashed in the light, and Carter jerked to the side as the scalpel sliced through the air a second time, heading right toward his face. Grasping the man’s forearm, he dug one knee into Nate’s stomach and fought the upward arc of the blade as the man swung at him.
Nate’s free hand wrapped around Carter’s throat, and he used the opportunity to drive his fist into the man’s face. Nate let out a grunt of pain but didn’t let go. Using all his weight, Carter threw as much power behind his punch as possible, this time connecting with Nate’s jaw.
The scalpel waved perilously close to Carter’s face, and he lurched away from it, shifting his weight over Nate’s body. He let out a hiss of pain as the blade arced through the air and connected with his forearm, slicing through the fabric of his shirt and across his flesh.
Carter gritted his teeth and landed another punch to Nate’s jaw.
The man’s head snapped to the side, and Carter grasped one of the fingers wrapped around his throat, yanking it backward as hard as he could.
Nate let out a sharp cry and pulled his hand away from Carter’s throat before his finger snapped under the force of Carter’s hold.
Nate fought against him, shoving the scalpel at Carter, and he shifted his weight, trying to keep the man pinned to the ground.
Nate’s hips bucked upward, causing Carter to lose his balance, and he grabbed the man’s arm for support as he fell forward.
Under the force of his weight, the hand holding the scalpel sliced through the air, and there was a whisper of sound as it sank between Nate’s ribs and into his heart.
Carter scrambled off of him, staring at the scalpel and the blood slowly saturating Nate’s shirt. The man’s eyes went even wider, and a gurgling noise welled up and out of his throat. His stunned gaze met Carter’s, and his fingers tightened around the handle protruding from his chest.
“No, don’t—”
Before Carter could get the words out, Nate yanked the blade free, and blood spurted from the wound.
It was Carter’s first instinct to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding, but his hand froze halfway to the man’s chest. If the idiot wanted to take the easy way out and hemorrhage all over the floor in front of him, that was his choice.
He didn’t warrant another second of Carter’s time.
Scrambling to his feet, Carter fought the fear and apprehension clutching at his throat as he turned his attention to Audrey.
Still frozen in that same position, she hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t uttered a sound.
He’d begun to think the scream he’d heard was just a figment of his imagination.
He couldn’t bear to think of never seeing her smile again, never feeling her in his arms.
“Please…”
He blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes as he gently reached out a hand and settled it on her chest. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, as if God had answered his prayers, he felt a slight lift of her chest as her lungs filled with air.
She was alive.
He placed his hands on her cheeks and stared into those huge blue eyes. “Audrey, can you hear me?”
She blinked once, long and slow, as if it took all the effort in the world, and relief flooded him.
He fumbled with the restraints as he released her hands and feet, all the while assessing her injuries.
The sight of the deep cuts on her torso made his throat tighten with emotion.
He wanted to scream, to lash out and strangle Nate with his bare hands.
He’d kept her awake, fully aware of everything going on while he’d planned to torture and kill her.
The sound of sirens met his ears as he struggled out of his dress shirt and draped it over her. Seeing her like this, so helpless, he resorted to the only tactic he knew. “Always gettin’ me out of my clothes, babe.”
He tried for a teasing tone, but his levity fell flat as a tear escaped the corner of her eye and trickled down her temple, landing on the table with a tiny splash.
That tiny drop broke him, and everything in him shattered. “God, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He bent over her, fighting the burning in the backs of his eyes as he gripped her hand and rested his forehead against hers.
Her fingers twitched against his, and he lifted his head to look into her eyes.
There were no words of comfort that he could offer her.
He refused to let her see his weakness—he had to be strong for her, make her believe that everything would be okay. Somehow.
“Never again,” he promised. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” He squeezed her fingers and lifted her hand to his lips. “We’ll get through this—together.”