Their Virgin Captive(70)

Now, he wanted his family to be one close-knit unit, sharing Hannah and her love.

As soon as he took out whoever threatened her.

He flattened his body against the brick and listened, trying to figure out the bastard’s identity.

“You have a beautiful body, Hannah. Let the robe drop so I can see more than just your breasts. I want to know if that blonde hair of yours is real. I know how whores change their appearance to entice men.”



Oh, he was going to kill that fucker. Gavin didn’t care how or why this man had gotten so screwed up. No one was going to talk to Hannah that way.

Gavin peeked around the corner. Even from the back, he recognized Lyle from his severely short hair and his clothes. Goddamn the bastard.

Hannah stood with sunlight bathing her, clutching her robe around her waist, her green eyes flared with fear. She looked so young and vulnerable. So alone. She was his to protect. He couldn’t let her down. He would rather die with her than live knowing he’d failed her.

“You’re going to have some trouble figuring that out, but I’ll tell you that I don’t bleach my hair.”

Hannah’s sweet twang flowed over him. No panic in his girl. Her steady voice was music to his ears.

Gavin was a possessive man. He could share with his brothers, but anyone else was out of the question. Yet, he found himself willing Hannah to do whatever necessary to stay alive. No matter what, he would love her. And, in time, his unwavering love—and that of his brothers—would heal her.

Gavin edged around the corner and checked everyone’s position. Hannah stood in the background. Lyle, the fucker, was roughly ten feet in front of her, with his back to Gavin.

Another person sat at the table, head down on the wrought iron.

The other tech, Scott? He wasn’t moving. Blood dripped slowly onto the stone patio. Maybe Lyle shooting Scott had been the noise Gavin had heard. If Lyle had already killed someone, then Gavin could fire at will—if he could just get Hannah out of his direct line of fire. As it was, if Gavin shot at Lyle and missed, Hannah would suffer.

With a brief nod, he caught Hannah’s gaze. Her bright green eyes widened. He willed her to do whatever she had to.

I love you, Hannah. He mouthed the words.

With a gaze that told him she understood his reassurance, Hannah dropped the robe, fully displaying her beautiful body. Then she jumped out of his line of fire.

It had the intended effect. Lyle cursed savagely and charged her, intent on attack. That left Gavin free to act.

Sucking in a calming breath, he stepped out from behind the house, aimed, and fired.

After a quick pull of the trigger, Lyle’s body jerked. Then blood began soaking his shirt at the right shoulder. Hannah screamed and ran toward Gavin. But Lyle wouldn’t let her go that easily. He lunged for her, catching her ankle in a death grip.

“You’re staying with me, whore,” he snarled.

Gavin’s heart lodged in his throat.

“Let her go and you might live,” he growled at Lyle, circling in front of the asshole and closing in.

“She’s mine. If I go down, I’ll take her with me.” Lyle raised his gun with his free hand. A ghastly smile contorted on his face. “She’s mine.”

“No, she’s not, motherfucker.” Gavin didn’t hesitate. He raised the shotgun and fired again.

And again.

Finally, Lyle’s grip loosened. Hannah broke free and ran for him. Gavin caught her in his arms just as he heard his brothers shouting from the driveway.

Hannah’s arms twisted around him. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner, Gavin. I love you.”



His heart swelled as he kept the gun trained on Lyle, just in case. “Baby, I love you, too. So much.”

His brothers raced onto the patio. Dex kicked Lyle’s gun away, then bent down, fingers on the tech’s carotid. “Dead.”

Gavin thought that perhaps he should feel bad that he’d taken a life, but all he felt now was profound relief. Peace and rightness followed when his brothers surrounded them. Their arms encircled Hannah.

Their woman was safe, and his family was finally complete.





* * * *

Hours later, Hannah walked into the house, her hands still trembling. She could still see Lyle’s desperate face, feel the bite of his grip as he clutched her ankle, trying to drag her down with him. So much pain and anger had flared in his eyes just before Gavin had delivered the fatal blow. She’d never forget the rage bubbling in his expression just before he’d fallen back, dead.

Hours later, she was still shaking.

“Hannah?” Slade inquired softly as he entered the room. “I thought you’d like to know, Scott made it to Anchorage. He’s in surgery now, but the doctors said he’s going to be fine. The bullet missed his lungs. If Lyle had shot him again…”