I pushed my hands in around her arm and shoved at what I surmised were the two large men I’d seen kidnap her. They had crumpled around her, trapping her smaller body between them. I pushed harder, ignoring a groan from one of them. It wouldn’t be his last pained moment. I would see to it. But I had to free Evan before I could deal out any retribution.
I moved my hands up her arm to her shoulder and pulled, yanking too hard. I couldn’t stop. I needed to see her, needed to make sure she was okay. She emerged from the wreckage as I pulled. Her head, torso, hips, and then her legs slid out, no shoes. She was streaked with blood, and her eyes were closed. I freed her from the crush of bodies and pulled her into my arms.
I fell back into the swampy water and felt something hard against my ribs.
I looked down. It was a gun barrel. Evan’s finger was on the trigger. She looked up at me, stark terror marring her face.
“It’s me, Evan. It’s me. I’ve got you.”
“Lincoln?” She blinked quickly, disbelief in her voice.
“Yes. I’ve got you.”
She dropped the gun in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
When the car had left the roadway and careened through the air, I thought I’d lost her. The relief of holding her, feeling her heartbeat, hit me in the chest near the spot where the gun barrel had rested.
“Are you hurt?” I pulled her away and searched her face, the blood still fresh. Garish streaks of crimson painted her fair skin.
“Yes, I mean no. I don’t think the blood’s mine. At least, most of it isn’t.” She touched a cut along her forehead.
The cut was ugly, and I wasn’t sure where else she was injured. I needed to get her away from here, fast, maybe even to a hospital, though I wasn’t looking forward to answering any questions. I pocketed the gun, lifted her into my arms, and trudged back up the hill. She started to fight against me, her weak arms nothing more than a light breeze against my chest.
“No, I have to kill them. You don’t understand. They’ll come back for me. DiSalvo will send them again. I have to kill them.”
The stark fear in her voice tore at my heart. And I knew about DiSalvo. If he was the one who had sent the killers, she was right. They’d be back to finish what they started.
“I don’t know if I can k-kill them.” She sobbed. “But I have to try. I c-c-can’t let them get me again.”
A tremor racked her body as I continued carrying her up and away from the carnage. I pressed her even closer to me, trying to comfort her any way I could.
“Shh, angel. Calm down. I got this.” They would never touch her again.
I laid her in the back of the cab. She curled into a ball, the picture of self-preservation and protection. She was shaking badly. I wanted to comfort her, but I still had some business to take care of. The rage inside wasn’t going to let the fuckers down the hill off so easily.
I took my suit coat off and draped the driest part of it over her. She looked so small, vulnerable. The flames of my rage rose higher. The ones who had taken her would pay.
“Hey, man, is she okay?” the cabbie asked. “There’s so much blood.”
“Watch her. I’ll be back.”
“She needs a doc—”
“I know what she needs. What you need right now is to shut up and keep an eye on her until I get back.” I didn’t hide the rage. I was consumed with it. It was meant for the men that had taken Evan, but I would use it wherever needed.
The cabbie blanched. He was innocent in this, I reminded myself, helpful even. He’d told me that he wasn’t supposed to leave Manhattan, but he’d acquiesced after he’d witnessed Evan’s kidnapping.
I softened my tone. “Please, just take care of her until I get back. I’ll take it from there.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. His silence was assent enough for me.
“Where are you going?” Evan asked. Her voice was weak, thin. “Please, don’t leave me. I’m so sorry, so sorry, Lincoln. Please forgive me. I’m so—”
“Shh.” I brushed the hair away from her face. Just hearing her apology was a balm on my spirit, but it did nothing to revoke my rage at the men down the hill.
“I’ll be right back, angel. Just stay here. No matter what you hear, understand?”
Her eyes grew wide, but she nodded. I pushed the door shut.
I opened the front passenger door and leaned in to crank the radio as high as it would go. Evan jumped at the sound but settled back down. Some Middle Eastern station playing a melodic tune with a female singer crooning in a high warble. Perfect cover. The less Evan and the cabbie heard, the better.