Rescue My Heart (5 page)

“Yes,” he said. “But I go alone.” His eyes were shadowed, his mouth tight and grim.

And she realized something else that she’d missed when she’d first soaked up the sight of him, dazzled by his perfection.

He seemed utterly and completely exhausted.

And, she realized in horror when he turned away from her and headed back to his dresser,
injured
. At the sight of his back, she gasped. “Adam.”

He didn’t respond.

Shock.

She stared at the long, jagged laceration on his shoulder, along with the bunch of other scratches and bruises all over him, as if he’d been dragged over rocks. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.” He pulled a pair of sweats from a drawer.

“It’s more than nothing.” Her gaze was glued to the blood dripping down his back as she moved close, helplessly drawn in. “It’s—”

He dropped his towel to the floor, fully exposing his body in all its bare-ass naked glory.

And there was a lot of glory.

She sputtered, torn between slapping a hand over her
eyes and staring at the finest stretch of broad back and perfect male ass she’d ever seen, while he calmly stepped into his sweats and pulled them up.

Sheer feminine appreciation had won out, of course. She didn’t even attempt to cover her eyes—which is how she caught his wince and hiss of breath when he straightened.

“I’ll leave at first light,” he said, turning to face her.

“Adam, what the hell happened to you?”

Ignoring yet another question, he moved to the door, opening it for her in a direct but silent invite for her to go. “I’ll call you when I get to Diamond Ridge,” he said.

She shook her head. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.” He set a hand on her stomach.

She was shocked to immobility at the unexpected touch. Every muscle quivered, and she was completely distracted by it, so that when he gave her a gentle push over the entryway and then shut the door in her face—not quite as gently—she could only blink in surprise.

“Hey.” She tried the door, but he’d locked it. She rapped her fist on the wood. “Adam.”

No answer. Hands on hips, she stared at the door. “Are you kidding me?”

She could almost hear the proverbial crickets but not a word or a breath from the man inside. “What, are we teenagers and stupid all over again?” she asked through the door.

Nothing.
Unbelievable
. “Adam, you can’t be serious.”

But apparently he was.

Swearing beneath her breath, she left a strip of her Jeep’s tires on the asphalt peeling out of the parking lot. She was halfway home before her wits caught up with her. There were few people on earth who could light her temper. In fact, she could count them with three fingers: her father, Grif, and Adam.

Especially Adam.

Apparently he still had that ability, which really chapped
her hide. It would be one thing if she’d ever, even once, been able to return the favor, but his fuse was notoriously slow and long-burning, and it had never been directed at her. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever even heard him raise his voice. Nope, Adam’s temper, when it blew, was a quiet explosion.

Internal.

She could remember once being with him when they’d come across someone beating his horse on the trail. Two days later the local paper had printed an article about a horse theft. No one had ever found the horse or caught the perp.

But sure as Holly knew her own name, she knew Adam had stolen that horse.

Fast-forward to the night he’d been late-night drag racing and a cop had died while chasing him and his friends…Not twenty-four hours later he’d signed up for the military.

That was the thing about Adam. Despite not ever toeing the line, he had a moral compass that always pointed to Do the Right Thing.

This is how she knew he’d do exactly as he’d said—he’d go out after her dad. Alone. Damn him.

The drive home to the Reid ranch house was on a narrow two-lane road, lined by the Little Eagle River. It was beautiful, and she often stopped at the bridge to watch the river flow by. Not tonight. Tonight she paid no attention to anything but getting home. The place had been built just outside of Sunshine, on the biggest of all the Reid ranches. There were lots of buildings on the land—barns, storage, bunking for the ranch hands, and the Reid offices, which held their staff.

The main house was huge, large enough for each of the three Reids to have their own space when needed, though Grif was rarely here. For that matter, her father was rarely
here, either, preferring to travel among all the ranches under his empire.

Holly went straight to her office and began an e-mail to Grif about her plans to leave to search for their dad in the morning, because no matter what Adam thought, she
was
going. But she was surprised to have Grif IM her before she could send it.

Grif would say he was
fine
even if he had limbs falling off, but the New York question made her wince. He kept bugging her about not getting sucked into the ranching business just for their dad’s sake, reminding her that she’d gotten out of Sunshine and shouldn’t cave to family expectations, that she should follow her own path.

This was because Grif and Donald couldn’t spend more than five minutes in the same room without Donald laying on the guilt about Grif not wanting to run the family empire. Their fights were legendary, no doubt having something to do with two alpha males not being able to share space.

For the most part, Holly enjoyed sharing space with her father. The sheer amount of time it took to run his ranching conglomerate grew every year, and she was extremely busy. She had two office staffers to help her, and it took the three of them working full-time to keep things afloat. Gone were the days where she could work from New York or from wherever she wanted to be.

But also gone were the days where she
wanted
to work from somewhere else.

Holly would tell him that over her own dead body.

Fine
again. Holly rolled her eyes.

Holly sat back and stared at her computer screen. Kate Evans was Holly’s best friend. Grif had been home exactly once this year on leave, and he’d stayed for a total of two weeks. The first week he’d done nothing but sleep. The second week he’d spent in the company of old friends like Adam and Dell, mostly in the local bars.

Kate was a second-grade teacher. In the presence of a male older than seven, she tended to get nervous and started spouting useless science facts. She was funny and smart, and an amazing friend, but she was swamped with family obligations and spent exactly zero time in bars. There was no way she and Grif had managed any time together. Holly would have known.

Wouldn’t she have known?

Interesting subject change. Grif wasn’t “friends” with women. He went through women like other men went through socks. And Kate wasn’t the one-night stand type—though she’d give a perfect stranger the shirt off her back.

If Grif had taken the shirt off Kate’s back, Holly would
have to kill him. And that’d be a shame, since she loved her brother’s stubborn, nosy, interfering hide. Mostly.

And no matter what he thought, she was going with him.

And then, because she’d discovered this was what worked best with both of her two well-meaning but more than slightly overbearing male relatives, she logged off. “Oops,” she said out loud. “Bad connection.”

She took another moment to send e-mails to her staff and Red, the ranch manager, letting them all know her plans in as much detail as she knew them. She also put in a call to Kel to tell him what she was up to. Because unlike her father, she wanted people to know where she was.

Then she got a backpack together with extra clothes, food, and since she knew exactly how quickly things could change out there, she added stuff for an overnight—not that
that
was going to happen.

Adam had said he’d leave at first light, but she was going back to Belle Haven now because, one, she didn’t trust Adam. And, two, she didn’t trust Adam. He was likely to take off in the middle of the night just to make sure she didn’t tail him. She’d sleep in her Jeep if she had to. Yes, she was being paranoid, but she was also being proactive, tackling the things in her control.

Letting go of the things not in her control.

Or at least
attempting
to let go of the things not in her control. That part was still a work in progress.

The lights were on in the building so she took the stairs again, determined to have a calm and rational
two-way
conversation with Adam about the morning. But when she knocked on the door, it swung open and then she was sucking in a breath, unprepared for the sight in front of her.

Adam was sprawled out facedown on his bed still in only a pair of sweatpants, snug across the best ass she’d ever seen, low-slung enough as to be almost indecent. He was holding stoically still—though swearing viciously into his pillow—as Dell pulled a needle through the skin of his shoulder, stitching him up.

O
h my God.”

At the soft, distressed female voice coming from the doorway, Adam gritted his teeth. He didn’t have to turn and eye the leggy blonde to get his blood pressure rising—her voice was enough. Normally it rose his blood pressure
and
a certain portion of his anatomy at the same time but not tonight. Craning his neck, he glared up at Dell. “You didn’t lock the door.”

“No,” his brother said calmly. “My hands were full.”

Milo had been sound asleep, but the yellow Lab lifted his head now, assessing the new visitor. Clearly deciding she wasn’t a food source, he yawned and closed his eyes again.

So much for him being a watchdog.

Holly sucked in a shaky breath. “I knew you were hurt,” she said. “And now you’ve got a needle in you.”

“Get her out of here,” Adam said softly to Dell.

“Little busy right now.”

The needle continued to go through Adam’s flesh and he gritted his teeth. Something hit the hardwood floor, Holly’s keys maybe, but the sound was like a shot. He’d been purposely directing his thoughts elsewhere, so he wasn’t sure exactly when his entire body had broken out in a sweat. Or when his heart had begun to race. Or how suddenly the loft faded away and he flashed to a barren, cold cliff in Afghanistan, just outside the caves, frozen into immobility as he watched dead bodies being pulled out—