times.
She was unique. She was special.
He detoured to the shop, wanting to know if she was staying there late or if he could get her to go to dinner with him. Pulling into the shop parking lot, unease settled around his shoulders. He killed the lights and the engine. After he hopped out, he gazed about, searching for what didn’t feel right to him. Her vehicle sat parked in its typical spot and the bay doors were shut.
Refusing to ignore his instincts, he jogged toward the door and found it smashed open; it had just been pushed back to give the appearance of being properly shut. And from a distance it did as intended, but up close, he saw the truth. Zane slid effortlessly into the warrior he’d been for the past twenty-two years.
On silent feet he moved, ears attune for any sound out of the ordinary. A clank followed by a muffled cry. He recognized Zoë’s voice and increased his speed. Once he’d cleared the offices he snuck into the garage.
There, Zane, saw a shade of red he never knew existed. Raw fury replaced the blood pumping in his veins.
Three men had Zoë on the floor of the shop and were fighting to rip off her clothing. While she fought back, they were simply too much for her and were overpowering her. There were two others in various stages of undress with disgusting lust on their faces. With a loud roar, he sped across the space, utilizing the speed he’d honed in the service to accomplish his objective.
He plowed into them, tossing them off her like sticks in the wind. His fist crunched cartilage as he broke noses. One of the men ran for the bay door and Zane threw a wrench at the back of his legs, dropping him. No one was getting away until he had his pound of flesh. Soon the air was full of their cries, as they rolled into the doors, rattling them and knocking over tools. He dodged attacks and retaliated in swift succession.
“Zane.” Zoë’s tone broke through the haze surrounding him.
He turned his head and stared at her, she sat pressed against the back, holding her tattered clothing together with one hand, her cell in the other. Her hair in disarray and eyes wide with fear.
Sirens pierced the air as he moved toward her. The battering and blood on her face and body had him longing to kill each one of them. Slowly. Painfully.
He reached out for her and struggled to keep his composure when she placed a trembling hand in his. He pulled her close and kissed her lightly on the lips. “It’s over, Zoë. They won’t hurt you again.”
“Zane.” The way his name wobbled off her tongue shattered what remained of his heart.
“Here,” he said, reaching for a car cover to wrap around her.
The bay door screeched open and lights from the cars could no longer be ignored. He stepped away from her only to pause when she gripped him tighter.
“I’m right here.” He moved again, holding her gaze when the cops ran in, shouting.
He had no problems with what he’d done. The men had far worse intentions toward her. They were lucky he hadn’t killed them.
“On the ground! On the ground!” a man yelled.
Eyes locked with hers, still so full of fear, Zane, spread his hands out, showing he was unarmed. He sank to his knees, lacing his fingers behind his ears.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m about to be arrested,” he said.
“For what? You saved me.”
“I know. But I’m also a trained killer. It’ll be okay. I’ll be out in no time.”
One man kneed him in the back, launching him toward the ground. “I said, on the ground.”
“Stop!” she cried. “He saved me from the others.”
Zane looked up at the renewed fear in her tone. Nate arrived, shoving through the uniforms to Zoë’s side where he slipped an arm around her waist.
“Stay here, Zoë,” Nate said. “He’s barely in control and if you get shoved by a cop, it’s going to get much uglier. Let me take you to get this looked at.” Nate looked at him and Zane knew she was safe.
The zip cuffs were
She was unique. She was special.
He detoured to the shop, wanting to know if she was staying there late or if he could get her to go to dinner with him. Pulling into the shop parking lot, unease settled around his shoulders. He killed the lights and the engine. After he hopped out, he gazed about, searching for what didn’t feel right to him. Her vehicle sat parked in its typical spot and the bay doors were shut.
Refusing to ignore his instincts, he jogged toward the door and found it smashed open; it had just been pushed back to give the appearance of being properly shut. And from a distance it did as intended, but up close, he saw the truth. Zane slid effortlessly into the warrior he’d been for the past twenty-two years.
On silent feet he moved, ears attune for any sound out of the ordinary. A clank followed by a muffled cry. He recognized Zoë’s voice and increased his speed. Once he’d cleared the offices he snuck into the garage.
There, Zane, saw a shade of red he never knew existed. Raw fury replaced the blood pumping in his veins.
Three men had Zoë on the floor of the shop and were fighting to rip off her clothing. While she fought back, they were simply too much for her and were overpowering her. There were two others in various stages of undress with disgusting lust on their faces. With a loud roar, he sped across the space, utilizing the speed he’d honed in the service to accomplish his objective.
He plowed into them, tossing them off her like sticks in the wind. His fist crunched cartilage as he broke noses. One of the men ran for the bay door and Zane threw a wrench at the back of his legs, dropping him. No one was getting away until he had his pound of flesh. Soon the air was full of their cries, as they rolled into the doors, rattling them and knocking over tools. He dodged attacks and retaliated in swift succession.
“Zane.” Zoë’s tone broke through the haze surrounding him.
He turned his head and stared at her, she sat pressed against the back, holding her tattered clothing together with one hand, her cell in the other. Her hair in disarray and eyes wide with fear.
Sirens pierced the air as he moved toward her. The battering and blood on her face and body had him longing to kill each one of them. Slowly. Painfully.
He reached out for her and struggled to keep his composure when she placed a trembling hand in his. He pulled her close and kissed her lightly on the lips. “It’s over, Zoë. They won’t hurt you again.”
“Zane.” The way his name wobbled off her tongue shattered what remained of his heart.
“Here,” he said, reaching for a car cover to wrap around her.
The bay door screeched open and lights from the cars could no longer be ignored. He stepped away from her only to pause when she gripped him tighter.
“I’m right here.” He moved again, holding her gaze when the cops ran in, shouting.
He had no problems with what he’d done. The men had far worse intentions toward her. They were lucky he hadn’t killed them.
“On the ground! On the ground!” a man yelled.
Eyes locked with hers, still so full of fear, Zane, spread his hands out, showing he was unarmed. He sank to his knees, lacing his fingers behind his ears.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m about to be arrested,” he said.
“For what? You saved me.”
“I know. But I’m also a trained killer. It’ll be okay. I’ll be out in no time.”
One man kneed him in the back, launching him toward the ground. “I said, on the ground.”
“Stop!” she cried. “He saved me from the others.”
Zane looked up at the renewed fear in her tone. Nate arrived, shoving through the uniforms to Zoë’s side where he slipped an arm around her waist.
“Stay here, Zoë,” Nate said. “He’s barely in control and if you get shoved by a cop, it’s going to get much uglier. Let me take you to get this looked at.” Nate looked at him and Zane knew she was safe.
The zip cuffs were
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