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be alive while they did whatever they intended. Since they weren’t

expecting her to attack, she would go on the offense. She lifted the

cross-body bag from across her chest, knowing it appeared light,

when it fact it was heavier than if she had a couple bricks stored

inside.

She watched Danny’s eyes widen, like he was expecting her to

strip for them. The other two men folded their arms across their

chest, preparing to watch the show.

Well, Felicity would do her best to give them a show, even if it

killed her.

“This is gonna be great. Look at her tits. More than a handful.”

One of the guys said, making Felicity shudder with his raspy voice,

sounding like he’d already started anticipating what he was going to

do to her.

Near the dumpster, she noticed a broken clothing rack with

pieces of the metal pole lying off to the side. If she could ease closer

to it she might have a fighting chance. With a yell she swung her

heavy purse and knocked Alice in the head, and then hit Danny. Both

were stunned, giving her a chance to lunge for the metal pole.

“Looks like our toy has claws.” The last man spoke. His voice

hissing, a snake-like sound that slithered along her nerves.

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Claiming His Cowgirl

She held the weapon in front of her. “I don’t want to hurt you.

Just take my purse, my car, and the money from the store and go. I

can’t identify you, so just go.”

Danny sighed. “She went with the hard way, kids. Let’s do this

then.”

If she wasn’t the one in their sights, she’d have appreciated their

well thought out choreography. The way they fanned out, giving her

no chance to escape. Again, she wished she’d learned self-defense or

something useful that would’ve saved her. Instead, she held the metal

pole like a baseball bat, because she was good at that, and hit the first

person to come at her. The sound of metal hitting flesh and bone,

followed by the grunt of pain, almost made her drop her it. Only too

soon another body came at her, and she swung with all her might,

hitting a hard male body, who grabbed her weapon and jerked.

The metal pole was ripped from her, forcing Felicity to cry out in

pain as the skin on her palms was ripped open.

“You stupid little bitch. You should’ve went with option A.”

One of the men grabbed her, jerking her close to his body, shivers

wracked her frame.

She raised her knee and tried to hit the one holding her between

his legs, but he threw her away from him. She scrambled on her

hands and knees, looking for more pieces of the rack, when her foot

was grabbed.

Pieces of dirt and gravel scraped against her hands and arms as

she was pulled back. Felicity clawed at the ground, feeling her nails

breaking off, screaming, and knowing nobody could hear her.

“Give me something to gag her.” The leader’s voice grated.

Being flipped onto her back, her skirt hiked up to her waist,

Felicity felt tears running down her temples and into her dark brown

hair. The smell of the trash, and the overwhelming scent of the man’s

cologne was forever imprinted on her brain as he straddled her, and

shoved a piece of cloth in her mouth. She kicked and punched, trying

to get the large man off her.

The feel of several hands grabbing her legs, and then her arms,

brought a fresh wave of adrenalin through her. She worked the cloth

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Lori King

out of her mouth with her tongue, and with the last bit of her breath,

Felicity screamed, and screamed, until a fist came down, and still she

screamed. She continued to scream, even when the man kept hitting

her, telling her to shut up or else. Felicity heard bones cracking,

tasted her own blood filling her mouth, and swallowed in order to

continue screaming.

A stranger’s yell broke through the blackness trying to swallow

her. Pain wracked every nerve of her body, and then the weight

holding her down was gone. She wanted to move, needed to get

away, but couldn’t. She let herself go where there was no pain, and

prayed her parents knew she loved them. Darkness filled her vision.

Broken, Felicity stopped fighting wishing she could see who the new

man was.

* * * *

Hal rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. He swore he

heard a woman scream. The hair on the back of his neck stood on

end, and then he heard the sound again. He took off at a run, seeing

the empty parking lot, save for one lone car parked under a security

light.

The sound of the screaming was cut off, but he realized where it

came from. In a darkened corner, he saw four figures surrounding

what looked to be a woman’s prone form. Rage filled his vision. The

closer he came and saw the damage they’d done, Hal’s grip on his

control began to slip, making him see a red haze surrounding the four

beings. He gave a yell that he knew was louder than the average man,

making the attackers turn to face him, except the one still straddling

the body.

He couldn’t control his temper and didn’t attempt to. His inner

beast had free reign to do whatever it wanted to the animals

responsible for killing the young woman, and Hal would rejoice in

their pain. He felt his seams stretching and knew he probably looked

like a monster to them. Again, he didn’t care. Let them scream and

beg for mercy. They wouldn’t get any.

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Claiming His Cowgirl

With another yell he ran, his arms extended, grabbing hold of

two of the men. He threw them against the concrete wall and watched

them slide down, their screams for mercy falling on deaf ears. The

last one standing faced him with a glare, but it was the one bent over

the downed woman who held his attention. Hal’s sole focus zeroed in

on him. Before he could stop himself he crossed the small space and

knocked him off the woman. He landed with a sickening crunch

against the trash can, a metal pole skewering him, blood pouring

from his stomach. Hal’s gaze went to the woman lying so still,

gasping at the bloody pulp her face had become. He promised he’d

make them all look just the same before he was done with them.

“Please don’t hurt me. They made me do it.” Hal stared at the

outstretched hands, hearing the plea behind the mask.

Hal came to an abrupt halt at the soft feminine voice behind the

mask. He shook his head trying to clear thoughts of rage running

through his mind. A whimper and the sound of gagging had him

turning to the injured female. He took a step toward the masked

woman, and then more gagging had him spinning to help. While his

back was turned the woman fled. Hal took a few calming breaths

before making his way to where the poor abused woman lay. The

berserker in him was trying to stay in control, needing to make

everyone suffer the way the woman had, but with utter ruthlessness

Hal pushed him back. Taking out his cell, he dialed 911, and

explained to the dispatcher what had happened as quickly as he

could, leaving out the fact he was a berserker, and did his best to save

the young woman’s life.

He wasn’t sure how old she was, but from the look of her body

she couldn’t be more than early twenties. A connection to the

unconscious woman threaded its way through him like the lifeline his

nana had spoken about.
Mine.

He shrugged out of his jacket, and covered her lower half up as

best as he could. Her skirt had been rucked up and her panties had

been torn off. Hal hoped she hadn’t been raped, but he couldn’t be

sure he’d gotten there in time to save her from that injustice. “Hold

on,
ma petite
. Help is on the way.” The urge to brush her hair off her

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Lori King

face was strong, but her injuries were so severe he stopped himself,

barely.

In his rage Hal hadn’t thought to check on the two men he’d

thrown against the wall, or the one impaled on the pipe. He made a

quick call to his team leader, Brax, just in case he needed him to bend

some minds. The last thing he needed was anyone to think he was

more than a human man.

“What the hell did you do now, Aldridge?” Brax asked.

Hal told him what had happened, hearing the other man swear

fluently in several languages, before he settled down. “I’ll be there in

a few hours. Don’t say anything more than what you have to. You

have PTSD. Do you hear me?” Brax’s tone turned serious.

“I’m a smokejumper, used to stressful situations. Do you really

think something like this would cause me to have PTSD?” Hal

checked for a pulse on one man then the next, finding they each had

one, he relaxed. “I think I only killed one, Brax.”

“Oh, goody. Now, go back to the girl and make sure she lives.”

Brax’s voice growled through the connection.

Hal was already heading back to stand guard over her. There was

something about her that called to him on an elemental level. Before

he’d taken a step away he noticed a bag. Figuring it was hers, he

gathered it and the items nearby. Her wallet had fallen open and,

seeing her face for the first time, he studied it as he walked back

toward her.

“Felicity Evans, I wish I’d gotten here sooner,
ma petite
.” He

liked her name. Liked her dark brown hair and the way it looked long

and soft in her picture. Lying in such a disarray, Hal wanted to hurt

the men who did this to her, all over again.

Shoving the wallet back inside the overly large bag he crouched

down and waited. He’d used his shirts to brace her body on the side

to keep her from choking on her own blood, his leather jacket was

covering her lower half, leaving him half dressed.

The first responders pulled in with the lights flashing, followed

by several police vehicles. Hal held his hands up, still in a crouched

position, and shirtless. “My name is Hal Aldridge. I’m a firefighter. I

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Claiming His Cowgirl

came upon the scene when I heard a young woman screaming.” He

went on to explain what had happened, moving aside while they

hooked an IV into Felicity’s arm. The fact she never regained

consciousness worried him.

“Was she awake when you found her?” One of the officers

asked.

“No, other than gagging on her own blood, no.” Hal felt a primal

growl rise in his chest as they removed his jacket exposing her lower

half. With reflexes too fast for most humans, Hal jerked the jacket

back up her legs. “I don’t know what they did to her before I got

here, but you can respect her modesty, boy.”

The paramedic mumbled an apology, however his jacket wasn’t

removed again.

A lady police officer tapped him on the shoulder. “Did you do

that to them?” She pointed at the three men.

“I’m not sure what happened, officer. I think I’m suffering from

PTSD.” He watched as they carefully transferred Felicity onto a

backboard then into the ambulance. “Can I ride with her?”

“I’m going to need you to come down to the station for more

questions, Mr. Aldridge.”

“Am I under arrest?” Hal asked.

She sighed, sympathy in her gaze. “No, we just need to make a

report.”

“Then you can follow me to the hospital.” He jogged over to the

ambulance. “Can I ride with you?” He asked the paramedic.

“I’m sorry, there isn’t room.” The man said with way too much

satisfaction.

Hal took a deep breath. “What hospital are you taking her to?”

He listened as they told him, making a mental note of the man’s

name. “Todd, can I tell you a secret?” When the man settled in on the

bench, Hal continued. “I make for a really bad enemy. You treat her

like she’s the most precious thing in the world. If I think for one

second you didn’t, I’ll make what happened to her look like a walk in

the park next to what will happen to you. Got it?”

165

Lori King

“Excuse me, Mr. Aldridge. You shouldn’t go around threatening

people.” The police woman whispered, humor lacing her words.

Hal turned to look at the police woman. “It’s a promise, not a

threat. I’ll see you at the hospital.” He nodded at the paramedic.

“How about if I give you a ride? To the hospital, not the station,

scouts honor.”

With a jerk of his head, Hal picked up his bloody shirts from

where they’d been under Felicity’s body. He shook them out and

looked at them.

“Those are evidence, Mr. Aldridge.” One of the other officer’s

tried to stop him from taking his clothes.

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