Mallory Kane - Heir To Secret Memories

He hadn’t expected that. “Your daughter? Who does?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. But they told me to find you.”

At her words, Jay tensed. Almost unconsciously he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, alert, prepared for anything.

“Were you followed?” he snapped.

Her brow furrowed briefly. She looked down at her fist, clenched in her jacket pocket, then over her shoulder at the door. “Yes.”

He heard a noise behind her. “Look out!”

Wood splintered and the door flew open, hurling her into his arms. The breath hissed out of her and she squealed in pain. He tossed her back toward the bed, hoping to get her out of harm’s way, as the two men attacked him.

He struggled, fighting dirty, aiming for the groin, the kidneys, the nose, any vulnerable spot. He’d learned how to fight the hard way out on the oil rigs.

One man was beefier, thicker than the other. Jay concentrated on his face.

He punched, felt something crunch, then drove an elbow behind him into the smaller man’s solar plexus.

A fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled. The small man pinned his arms behind him and Beefy reared back a fist, prepared to punch him in the stomach.

Jay used the momentum of the small man’s grip to lift his feet. He drove them into Beefy’s stomach, pushing himself backward at the same time.

Beefy fell. The smaller man huffed as Jay’s weight pinned him against the wall. Jay turned, jerking his arms clear, then smashed the guy’s nose with his forearm.

When he looked back at Beefy, the big man was trying to regain his feet. Jay kicked him solidly in the groin.

Both men were down for the moment. The smaller man’s nose was pouring blood. Beefy was doubled over with pain. But they’d recover fast.

Jay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, barely noting his own blood as he rushed around the bed.

He bent over the woman. She was unconscious, or nearly so. When he slid one hand under her back and the other under her knees, she whimpered.

“Sorry,” he whispered, afraid she was injured but knowing he didn’t have time to find out. He hefted her, absently noting how small she was, and took her out through the French doors. He kneed the doors closed and glanced inside. The two men were beginning to stir.

Hurrying to the old sedan he kept in tiptop shape for just this purpose, he opened the passenger door and carefully set her inside. He quickly and awkwardly fastened her seat belt, then ran around the car, got in, grabbed the keys from under the mat, cranked it and took off.

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