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Her Guardian Angel (Fire and Snow)(29)

By:Khloe Wren


"You promise you won't let him near me--please--don't let him hurt me any more," Kelly pleaded again.

Adele stroked Kelly's hair. "Shhh, cherie, no one is going to hurt you. But we do need to move you. You're hurt and we need to get you to the hospital."

Kelly panicked.

"No, he'll find me there, he'll take me back."

Kelly felt like she jumped a good meter in the air when she heard a low growl. She grabbed onto Adele in fear as she slowly turned her head toward where the sound had come and saw a massive man.

"Shhh, calm down, it's okay, Kelly. That’s Dominic. He’s a firefighter--the captain, he's a good man, and he won't hurt you. He won't ever hurt you, Kelly. I swear it. He's just a little angry, but not at you, Cherie. He's angry at the one who has hurt you so much. Isn’t that right, Dominic?"

"That's right, Kelly."

The man put his hand over his heart.

"I swear to you I will never hurt you, and I will never allow anyone else to hurt you ever again. Will you let us take you to the hospital? Adele will stay with you. I promise she won't leave you, and I promise I'll stand guard. I'll wait right outside your room and make sure no one gets in there who shouldn't. Does that sound good, Kelly? Will you let us help you and keep you safe?" Dominic's voice was so calm and soothing Kelly knew he too was a protector like Adele.

Kelly couldn't help but trust him. His ice blue eyes flared with anger, but like Adele said, it wasn't at her. She could see the pain and sorrow for her in their depths too, and it reassured her that this gentle giant would never hurt her. Adele's voice brought her back from the daze she was in.

"Kelly, will you let Dominic carry you back to our car? Or would you like to try and walk?"

"I don't think my legs work any more," she admitted quietly on a sob.

Holding eye contact with her, Dominic slowly crouched by her side on the ground and on the count of three lifted her. Then she was being cradled against a solid warm wall of muscle wrapped in the picnic blanket. He was so gentle with her. No one had ever held her so tenderly, and she wondered if this was what fathers were meant to be like, warm and protective. She was grateful for his gentleness, as every touch, every move hurt. All the stress and pain caught up with her. She didn't fight it this time. Letting herself succumb to the safe feeling of being held lovingly, she laid her head against his hard chest, allowing the darkness to carry her away again.





Chapter Eight

Cole dragged himself to the edge of his mattress and swung his legs over the side. After rubbing his hands over his face, he glanced at his bedside table to check out the time. Bloody hell, he'd slept for five hours. Better go check his slave. He doubted she'd be able to move on her own for at least a couple of days after the work out he put her through, but he'd feel better with her chained. Then he would have a shower, clean up and get ready for the morning's activities. That thought gave him the motivation he needed to get his body and feet moving.

He was in a fantastic mood, humming even, until he reached the stairway down to the basement. The door was open--he always kept it shut. He could see fresh blood smeared on the steps, hand, knee and toe prints like someone had half crawled half dragged themselves up the stairs. He followed the smears across the carpet to the front door where he noticed his shoes were gone. Damn it all to hell. He beat feet down the stairs to double check. Sure enough the basement was empty. Bloody hell, he shouldn't have given in to his worn out muscles. He should have made sure she was chained up and secured before he went to lie down.

He ran back up the stairs, and taking them two at a time, quickly got himself dressed. She couldn't have gone far. He’d worked her over for a solid six hours. Damn it, the girl shouldn't even be conscious, let alone running around town. He'd probably find her passed out in his driveway or just down the road. He grabbed his keys and headed to the garage.

An hour later he pulled back in to his driveway. He hadn't been able to find a trace of her. His mind spinning from his rapid firing thoughts, he was in a near panic.

How the hell could she have gotten away from him?

She was his, damn it. He owned her.

She would be back. He would get her back.

He had to get her back.

Once his mind slowed down enough that he was under a moderate level of control, he headed into the house to pack a bag. He'd go on a little road trip. Finding his slave shouldn't be hard. How far could she have gone? She hadn't left his house in, what, five years now? Yeah, he'd find her tomorrow or maybe the next day...and when he did, she was going to be permanently chained. He would never let her go. She was his alone and her punishment for this little adventure was going to be brutal and one she would never, ever forget.