I heard her scream.

Spinning to the left, I started to run.

It wasn’t hard to hear where she was then because the sounds of people struggling became pronounced.

I stopped at the door where I could hear all the noise and reared back just as Mac and LeVan appeared at the end of the hall.

Emmy’s scream echoed down the hall again and my friends started running toward me.

I crashed into the door.

It held.

Mac joined me and the two of us took the door completely down as we hit it together.

Emmy lay pinned under a man, fighting with teeth and nails and fists, but he had one arm against her throat. He went to cover her mouth with his hand, unaware of me bearing down on him.

Emmy bit him—I think.

But then I was close enough to grab him and a bloody rage closed over me as I caught him in a bear hug and hauled him off her, hurling him to the ground. I threw one look at Emmy—

She sucked in a breath, then another.

She was okay.

The man struggled to run away.

My temper snapped and I grabbed him again and threw him to the ground, the rage and the fear inside me exploding in a fury of fists. I felt flesh give, smelled blood, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to hear bone break, feel cartilage crunch. Driving my fist into his face, I heard him scream.

Someone shouted my name.

I kept on hitting him.

He’d touched Emmy.

He struggled under me and I remembered how she struggled under him. Ramming my forearm against his neck, I asked, “You like how that feels? You gutless coward.” Reaching down, I shoved my hand into his crotch and grabbed his balls, twisting until he screamed, screamed, screamed.

He was breathless by the time I let go, the only sounds in the room my ragged breathing…and a soft voice.

“Sly.”

I looked up.

Emmy stood in front of me, half leaning against Mac.

Beneath me, Topher stirred and the rage stretched, calling me.

“It’s over, Sly,” she said.

Outside, I heard footsteps, then LeVan’s voice. “Cops are here, man.”

She held out a hand.

Slowly, I got to my feet.

Taking her hand, I hauled her up against me and buried my face in her hair. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I whispered. “He wasn’t supposed to be able to touch you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, stroking a hand up, then down my back. “You found me, Sly. That’s all that matters. You found me.”

* * *

“You found me. That’s all that matters.”

Bullshit.

She was in the hospital now, getting looked over although she’d insisted she was fine.

I’d all but dragged her here, because there were bruises all over her, on her arms and her throat—he could’ve crushed her throat. She could’ve stopped breathing.

All because I’d failed to keep her safe.

Another failure.

She sat on the edge of the exam table as the doctor checked her reflexes and asked her questions. The doctor asked me to leave, but Emmy was adamant that I stay. I should get the hell out, because I knew what the doctor wanted to talk to her about, but Emmy held out a hand and how was I to say no to that?

Closing my fingers over hers, I stared at the wall and listened as the doctor patiently and kindly asked questions no woman should ever have to hear. I wanted to break things and hurt people, but the person who needed to be hurt—hurt more—was now out of reach. I’d heard the cops talking and it was likely he’d be taken out of state—remanded to custody were the words I’d heard used. Apparently, Branson had a claim on him and they had a more serious case against him now that he’d gone and put his hands on Emmy.

Put his hands on her…

She squeezed my hand and I wondered if I’d made a sound or said something. That light touch helped ground me and I focused on what was going on instead of what had already happened. I’d dwell on all of that, and how I’d failed her, later.

Failed.

Again.

Images of a small face washed up from the depths of my memory and I slid off the exam table. Giving Emmy’s hand a gentle squeeze, I mumbled something about needing to move and I started to prowl the room. The walls felt like they were closing in on me but I wasn’t going to let myself pussy out when she needed me.

Although why in the hell she did, I didn’t understand.

Doors blasted open on the heels of that thought and the doctor turned on the intruder, but when her patient cried out and reached for the blonde in the doorway, she lapsed into silence. I watched as Angel and Emmy all but collapsed around each other, the two women folding each other into their arms.

Angel’s tear-streaked face was visible over Emmy’s shoulder and she met my eyes as Emmy clung to her.

That was what Emmy needed, I realized. Someone to hold onto, someone to comfort her. It didn’t have to be me. She’d probably rather it wasn’t, really, once things settled.

“How about I…uh…you two probably could use a few minutes alone,” I said, feeling awkward and out of place. I rarely felt that way because I didn’t really give a damn—what did it matter to me if someone didn’t want me around? I went where I wanted.

But this was Emmy.

I don’t think either of them heard me and I started for the door, figuring a quiet retreat was the best option.

But I didn’t move, let alone make it close to the door.

“Sly, where are you going?” Emmy asked.

Her voice was huskier than normal, a leftover sign of the minor damage done to her throat. The doctor had assured her it was minor and her throat would recover without any trouble.

Still, the sound of the raw rasp only added to the fire in my gut.

“You should have some time alone with Angel,” I said lamely, reluctant to turn and look at her. As much as I felt like I didn’t need to be here, I didn’t want to go, because some part of me was still adjusting to the fact that I’d found her, that she was okay, that he hadn’t really hurt her.

She slid off the exam table and came toward me, her eyes locked on my face. “Can you all leave us alone?”

The doctor hesitated, while Angel, her blue eyes calmer now than they had been just moments ago, came over and brushed a kiss against Emmy’s cheek. “I’ll be back in, okay?”

She slid out the door and Emmy turned her attention to the doctor.

“I know what you need to ask but it’s okay. He didn’t rape me. He didn’t have time. I’m okay.”

The doctor’s mouth firmed into a flat line and she breathed in through her nose, then out. “You still went through a trauma. You should consider talking to someone.”

“I will. Now if you don’t mind…”

The words delivered like a politely veiled order from a queen to her subject and a moment later, we were alone.

Emmy turned on me, looking at me with bruised eyes. The queen was gone now, in hiding or just too tired to lift her crown. “Why are you trying to run?”

I didn’t bother to pretend not to understand.

“I don’t need to be here,” I said in a harsh voice. “I failed you.”

“No!” She shook her head. “You saved me.”

“If we’d done what we’d promised, you wouldn’t have needed saving,” I argued.

“If I hadn’t had three drinks and been a fool, I wouldn’t have needed saving,” she retorted. “I let him walk me out of there. He hands me some line about a woman he’s got back at another hotel and I waltzed right out of there. I didn’t even stop to consider he might be lying to me. It’s my fault, not yours—hell, screw that. It’s his fault. He’s the one who put his hands on me. He’s stalked me halfway across the country, he’s threatened me, he lied, and he put his hands on me—screw me taking blame and screw you taking blame. He did it. Not us. Not you and not me.”

She had her chin up in the air and despite the bruises on her, despite the tangled hair and exhaustion that stamped her features, she’d never looked more beautiful.

I went to touch her cheek.

My busted, bruised knuckles caught my eyes and I lowered my hand back down.

“This…you, me…we were a bad idea all along, Emmy,” I said, the words coming out on a ragged whisper. “If I hadn’t been so fucking twisted over you, I would’ve handled this better.”

Her mouth fell open but I didn’t let myself say anything else as I turned and walked away.

There were reasons I had rules about relationships.

I didn’t get involved in them for a reason.

This was one of them.

I flat-out sucked at them.