The Protector

Liam scrambled out of the ditch. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. He saw Chloe standing in the rain, trembling.

"Chloe, run!" Liam roared. He didn't run toward her to grab her. He placed himself between her and Marcus.

"So this is the boyfriend," Marcus drawled, tapping the tire iron against his palm. "I have to admit, you threw me off. Taking her from the wreck? Hiding her in this glass box? Very chivalrous. I spent a week tracking her phone signal."

Chloe’s hand went to her pocket. Her phone. By turning it on, she had led Marcus right to them.

"You're not touching her," Liam growled. His voice was different now. It wasn't the gentle, domestic tone he used in the house. It was guttural, dangerous.

"She has something of mine," Marcus said. "A flash drive. She took it when she left. She probably doesn't even remember taking it, seeing as her brain is scrambled."

Chloe’s mind flashed. *The apartment. Marcus hitting her. Her grabbing her keys and... a silver drive from his desk.* She had evidence of his embezzlement. That’s why she was running that night. That’s why she was meeting a stranger from an app—to get as far away as possible.

"I didn't kidnap her to keep her," Liam shouted over the wind, eyes locked on Marcus. "I took her because I saw your car ran her off the road! I saw you pull over to finish the job! I got her out before you could get down the embankment!"

Chloe gasped.

Liam turned his head slightly, just enough to catch her eye. "I lied to you because if you went to a hospital, he would have found you in an hour. His name is on your emergency contact list. I needed you to disappear until you healed. I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m so sorry."

He hadn't stolen her. He had hidden her.