Page 124 of Defending You

Asher pulled the trigger.

And Gagnon went down.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Gagnon’s down.” Asher’s report brought responses in his ears, but he ignored them, trusting the team to handle whoever and whatever else needed handling.

He crossed the room in three swift strides, his weapon still trained on Gagnon’s motionless form, half-hidden behind a metal cabinet that stuck oddly into the room. The door leading to the fire escape was behind that. Blood pooled beneath the man’s head, his pale eyes staring sightlessly upward. The threat was over, but Asher’s pulse hammered like he was still in the middle of the fight. He kicked the enemy’s gun away per years of combat training. Not that he’d ever seen a corpse squeeze a trigger.

Cici huddled on the floor, trapped between the body and the wall. The blade that’d saved her life was still clutched in her trembling fist. Not a blade, he saw in the hellish light. A letter opener.

He didn’t want to think about the carnage she’d witnessed.

But she was breathing. She was alive.

“Cici.” He crouched beside her and, before she did something she didn’t mean to do, took the makeshift weapon out of her hand.

She blinked at him, her beautiful eyes wide with shock. “Is he… Is it…?”

“It’s over, sweetheart.” At least it was for them. Grant and Bartlett held the building. He and Cici were safe in here.

Asher tossed the letter opener aside and holstered his weapon, wanting to pull her into his arms, to hold her until the terror faded from both their memories. But in the hours since he’d seen her, she’d endured more than most would in their entire lives. He needed to move slowly, to be gentle with her.

“Are you hurt?” His voice came out rougher than he intended, filled with too many emotions to name.

“Yeah, I’m…” She started to nod, then winced. “I think…” Her gaze flicked to Gagnon. “I just want… Can you, please…?” She reached for him. “Help?”

He was dying to do just that. He stood and pulled her up, then swept her into his arms. His shoulder screamed, but he gritted his teeth through the wave of pain.

She sucked in a breath, color draining from her face.

“I’m sorry.” Her pain hurt him more than his own. “I’m sorry. I can put you down.”

“No, please.” She gripped his sweatshirt. “Don’t. I don’t want to…”

“Okay, sweetheart. I got you. You’re okay. I got you.”

She tucked her head against his chest. She didn’t cry, just held onto him like he was her safe place.

Thank You, Father. Thank You.

He focused on the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

She needed peace. She needed to be away from this space and the two lifeless bodies. He carried her out of the office and downthe hall to a break room he’d found when he was clearing this floor. He kicked the door open. Inside, he lowered himself to a sofa, keeping Cici securely on his lap.

She needed medical help. Now that the trauma was past, she was in shock. There were no blankets. Nothing to do but hold her close, to share his body heat until someone came.

They sat there in silence, holding onto each other.

The lights came on in the factory outside the door, giving just enough light for him to see her properly. A bruise darkened her cheek, and her clothes were spattered with blood. Bright red splotches from just now, brown splotches from a different violent event

“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough with emotion. “I’m so sorry I let this happen. I should have?—”

“Stop.” Cici lifted her head. Her hand found his cheek, her touch gentle, if shaky. “Don’t apologize to me. You came for me. You saved my life.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her palm. “You saved yourself. That move with the letter opener?—”

“I told you I could help.” Her voice carried a tremor, but her smile was radiant.