Free Wild Ones by Cassie Black

heavily. He had a large tear
in the front of his shirt, and an ugly looking wound beneath that
still oozed blood.
    I went and sat
next to the woman on the bed, and took one of her hands in my own.
She stirred again, but her eyes remained closed.
    "What
happened?" I asked in a low voice, glancing up at Atticus, who
stood next to Julius with his hand on his shoulder.
    "She'd already
been taken by the Arnold clan. They had her in one of their safe
houses, naked and bound to a bed. When we arrived, they were just
about to start." A muscle twitched in Julius' cheek and he clenched
his teeth. Atticus patted his shoulder. "She's safe now, Julius. We
got to her in time."
    "And we shot
ten kinds of crap out of those bastards," Julius said, his voice
low and harsh and quivering with rage.
    "That we did,
brother." Atticus grinned wickedly. "Gave them a bit of a nasty
shock, actually."
    I watched the
woman's eyes flutter and smiled grimly to myself. Serve them right,
I thought. I wished someone had done the same for me.
    "What's her
name?"
    "Jen," said
Julius shortly, not moving his gaze from the woman on the bed.
     
XVII
     
    As if she had
heard him say her name, her eyes opened and she half sat up. I
watched her expression change from confused to terrified, as she
recalled the events of the past few hours. I tightened my grip on
her hand, and stared intently into her eyes.
    "Jen," I said
urgently. "Look at me." Her eyes fluttered around the room but
settled on my face. "You're safe now," I told her, gripping her
hand even more tightly, anchoring her to the reality of the here
and now. My mother had always been prone to panic attacks, and I
had learned early on how to help her cope with them.
    Jen
stared at me for a few seconds and then looked behind me to Atticus
and Julius, and then she clutched my hand back and burst into
tears, huge racking sobs jerking through her body. I leaned forward
and put my other arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly
against me in a hug. She cried and cried, tears running down her
face and staining the front of my shirt. I half turned at one stage
and waved Atticus and Julius out, mouthing Annie and hoping they'd figure out what I
wanted.
    After a while
the sobs subsided. Jen lifted her head from my chest and tried to
smile. I smiled back.
    "Right," I
said, in my best business-like tone. "Hot shower. Cup of tea. TV.
In that order. Let's go."
    I stood and
pulled her to her feet. The coat fell away from her, and she looked
down at her nakedness and almost started crying again.
    "We're not
thinking about that now," I told her firmly. "We can dwell on the
what-almost-happened later, but right now we need to get you
cleaned up and fed and calm, so when Julius and Atticus bring your
little girl here, you can reassure her and be her mom. 'Kay?"
    "OK," she
whispered, but she stood up straight and let me lead her to the
shower. I turned the taps on and waited until the water was nice
and hot, and then I pushed her under it. She shivered as the heat
hit her skin, and then she sighed, opened her eyes, and started
soaping herself down. I left her to go and remove the coat and try
and strip the top layer of bedding from the bed, but Annie had
beaten me to it. I was really quite grateful to see her.
    "They need to
fetch her daughter," I said in a low voice.
    "The boys have
left to do that already."
    "Gosh," I said.
"I hope they changed first." Annie chuckled.
    "They did. Do
you need anything else?"
    "Tea, and lots
of it. Two chicken curry dinners."
    "Two?" she
asked, grinning.
    "Yes, two," I
sighed. "I'm still hungry." Annie chuckled again, and finished
making up the bed.
    I went back to
the bathroom, where Jen had finished her shower and was drying
herself. I hauled out a terrycloth robe from the cupboard in the
corner, and handed it to her wordlessly. She slipped her arms into
the sleeves and fastened it around her waist, and then she curled a
towel around her wet hair.
    "Better?" I
asked.
    "Yes.