Counting On Cole (Wilde Ways #8) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,43

“He cut her throat! We need an ambulance, now!”

***

“You…good?”

Good? Cole turned away from the window in Evie’s place and put his hands on his hips as he faced Chase. “I don’t think good covers it.”

Chase winced. “You want me to stay with her tonight?”

“I’ve got her.” A growled, guttural response. Leave Evie? Hell, no. His gaze slid to her bedroom door. Shut. They’d had to answer dozens of questions from the cops, had to stay in the police station for far too long, before Evie had finally been allowed to leave.

Before we were all allowed to go.

He’d pulled the trigger, so there had been lots of grilling from the detectives in charge for him. Did he regret what he’d done? No, not even for a second.

The bastard had been swinging his knife at Evie. He’d been intending to stab her in the back.

There were plenty of witnesses to back up Cole’s story. Hell, there were videos. Tons of them currently were flying around social media. The beautiful woman in her long evening dress, being carried from the scene by the guy in the tux. The fact that the guy in the tux had killed a man…well, that just made the story even juicier.

“You get that the media will be camped out on her doorstep.”

“They’re already downstairs.” Chomping at the bit for a story.

“We’ll make sure Wilde runs them off. Don’t worry. We can keep her insulated from them.”

That was only partially the truth, and they both knew it. Her story would circulate for a while, bringing attention that Cole knew Evie would not want.

“Where is she?” Chase asked, frowning. “Sleeping?”

“She’s in the bathroom.” EMTs had taken care of her throat. Luckily, the wound hadn’t been deep enough for stitches.

If that bastard had sliced her throat open and let her bleed out in front of me…

No, Cole shut down the thought.

“Huh.” Chase shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“Oh, you know, just…with what happened, I thought you’d never let her go to a bathroom by herself again.”

Cole bounded toward him, so not in the mood for the guy’s shit—

The bedroom door opened. Evie stood there. She wore jogging shorts and a black cami top. She was pale. Far too pale. A white bandage covered the small wound on her throat.

Every muscle in his body hardened. He wanted to run to her. To haul her in his arms and never let her go.

Instead, he stood frozen to the spot. In his mind, he saw her lunging toward him as that bastard raised his knife behind her.

Yes, I killed him. I would kill anyone who threatened her. With Evie, he’d never pretended to be anything more than what he was.

The first time they’d met, he’d been a mercenary.

The second time, he’d shown her that he was a killer.

He would never, ever be good enough for her, and it was a truth that he well knew. Wasn’t it the very reason he’d walked away from her before?

“How are you feeling, Evie?” Chase cleared his throat. “Any more dizziness?”

She shook her head. “No.” Her shoulders hunched a little bit.

They hadn’t discovered what the perp had used to knock her out. Detectives and the EMTs had thought it might be something like chloroform. They had sent a team to search the restroom she’d been taken from—and the parking garage at the charity gala. A doc had checked her out and run several tests to make sure that Evie was clear, and he’d ordered someone to stay with her during the night, just in case.

As if I would leave her.

“I-I didn’t know him.” Her hands twisted in front of her. “I saw his face. When the cops arrived, I-I looked, and I didn’t know him.”

“Probably because he was a hired thug,” Chase supplied. “Someone to do the grunt work so his boss wouldn’t get his hands dirty.”

She flinched.

Cole shot a glare at Chase.

What? Chase mouthed.

“So you’re saying…it’s not over? Even though he’s dead, it’s not over?”

Cole’s head swung back toward Evie. “No.” She needed to be prepared for this. “It’s not over.”

She inched forward. “Then you’re staying with me?”

I’d like to see someone force me to leave. “Yes, baby, I’m staying.”

Shit. He’d called her baby again. The endearment kept slipping out. He’d have to be more careful.

“I’m glad,” she said as she lifted her chin. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

They were separated by about five feet, but when her eyes met his, Cole swore