Chapter Two

Joseph still couldn’t believe his eyes. Jenna Daggert, the eighth Snatcher victim, was standing in front of him. Alive!

And scared shitless.

Her eyes darted like a nervous animal as she jerked every other second without anything even startling her. Her breathing grew erratic.

Emily’s voice bleeped from his radio, demanding a status report. It agitated the woman in the bushes, so he answered with a brisk, “Standby,” then turned the radio off as not to startle Jenna further.

“Miss Daggert,” he called. “My name is Joseph Morgan. I work for the sheriff’s department.”

He took a cautious step toward her. Her eyes flashed wide and she whimpered. He jarred to a halt. “Ma’am, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. Can you tell me where you’ve been?”

Verbal communication seemed far and beyond her current abilities. He moved closer. She flailed in a hopeless attempt to escape her thorny restraints. As he eased near enough to see her dilated eyes, she shook like a leaf. He kept eye contact, trying desperately not to stare at her beautiful bared attributes.

“I want to help you,” he murmured softly, wondering if she was under the influence of some kind of drug. Had to be.

What the fuck had the Snatcher dosed her with?

He shifted another step closer until a twig crackled under his boot. Jolting, she screeched, a hoarse high-pitched yowl that probably would’ve been a scream if her voice wasn’t so obviously broken.

“Shh,” he cooed. “No, don’t be scared. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, disagreeing, her breathing growing choppier.

“Yes, it is okay,” he continued, keeping his voice low and soothing as if he were calming a jumpy horse. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

Since his words weren’t getting through, he hoped his tone might. He kept talking, telling her he just wanted to lend a hand. When he moved another cautious step in her direction, it must have been her breaking point, because she lurched backward, tangling herself even more in the briars. Pain didn’t even seem to register.

But it hurt Joseph to watch, like seeing a cow caught up in barbwire, mangling itself to death.

“Don’t!” he yelled, unable to stop his own actions as he leapt the last few inches to her, needing to assist as much as he needed his next breath.

She howled and thrashed violently. Joseph wrapped his large arms around her and held her close, murmuring in her ear, “Jenna, Jenna, Jenna. Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

She resisted for a while—probably about a minute and a half—scratching them both up into a bloody mess with the deadly thorns. But the pain of his own wounds didn’t register. He was too busy grinding his teeth and trying to stop her from cutting herself further. Finally—what felt like centuries later—his tone filtered into her consciousness because she began to relax.

And then as if someone had turned off a light, she stopped resisting him entirely and stood frozen in his embrace. Her body continued to quiver with involuntary muscle spasms but she stopped struggling. It almost broke his heart to realize she’d given up the fight.

“It’s okay,” he continued to murmur. “I’ve got you now. You’re okay. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

After trying to untangle her from the briars encircling her arms and legs, he realized he couldn’t free her with his bare hands. He whispered a curse under his breath and tugged a knife from his pocket.

When he flipped it open, the woman in his arms went taut a microsecond before she began to flail.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured. “I’m just going to cut you free. See.” He sliced one of the briars off her trapped arm.

Her body jerked, but again she stopped resisting. Her erratic breaths brought on more shivering. Joseph feared if she didn’t get her breathing under control, she’d pass out. But then, passing out might be the best path for this poor woman. She had to be suffering something fierce.

Frantically chopping and pulling, he shredded vines like a maniac, focusing on his task. But when he went to pull one particularly bristly cable off her thigh, she cried out, her first sound of genuine pain.

Joseph sucked in a breath and looked into her face as he whispered, “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m trying to be gentle.”

The next time he went to cut a briar cord, she turned her face into his chest and gripped his shirt. His body instantly reacted, a stir of lust whiplashing through him.

Flattered, and touched, and surprised as all get out, he couldn’t help but reach up and cup the back of her head, nestling her cheek to his chest.

She stunk to high Heaven, but damn, she was feminine. She had so many curves and dips, he couldn’t stop himself from copping one last peek and imagining. And, oh damn, there went his dick, perking to attention at the sight of her naked thighs, and breasts that bounced every time she made a sudden move, which she did constantly.

The hair between her legs was as dark as the hair on her head, but she must be the type to keep her pussy shaved clean because the stubble looked like her short pubes had only been growing for about sixteen days, the exact duration of her capture.

Damn it, he should’ve pursued Emily four months ago. Being this horny was not good for a man. If a rancid odor, whacked-out frame of mind, and enough cuts and bruises to cover a whale didn’t flatten his libido, then he was definitely way past due a good fuck.

He started to sweat. Okay, he’d been sweating since he took up chase in this nasty ninety-degree weather. But this was a different kind of sweat. It trickled down his forehead and into his eyes so he had to squint and swipe the back of his hand over his forehead as he snipped at the last few tangles.

“Almost there,” he murmured. “Just two more vines and we’re home free. You’re doing good, Jenna. You’re doing real good.”

Scratched all to shit, his hands bled like a stuck pig, but he held in any expletive he wanted to mutter as not to alarm her and tore the last constricting vine away from her arm.

Grinning, he met her gaze. “That’s it,” he announced. “Now, let’s get you out of here.” He took her elbow to gently escort her, but as soon as she took a step, she gasped and crumpled. Joseph tightened his hold to keep her from a painful face plant.

Glancing at her ankle, he found the flesh swollen and discolored. “Holy fuck,” he breathed. How in the world had she run so long on such a wound? The bones looked like they were snapped clean in half.

Her breathing escalated and she looked up at him with worry as if she didn’t think she was going to make it any farther. He touched his bloody fingers to her gross, matted hair in a gesture of comfort and sent her a soft smile.

“No problem,” he murmured. “I can carry you.” Before she had a chance to protest, he swung her up into his arms.

Her eyes went huge and her body stiff. She reached out to latch onto his shirt for support. A second later, she relaxed and laid her head on his shoulder. A big ol’ hunk of emotion passed through him. Tenderness. Protection. He’d do anything for this woman. Die for her. Kill for her. Anything.

He couldn’t believe he was holding Jenna Daggert in his arms. For the past sixteen days since he’d learned of her existence, he’d gone to bed thinking of her, woken up thinking of her, trudged through each day—yep—thinking of only her. He worried through every hour, wondering how he was going to handle it when someone found her body. But here she was, her warm breath falling on his neck, her body quivering with life in his arms. Even the stink of perspiration and piss was welcome, reminding him she was still very much here. Alive. Cradled in his embrace.

Thank God she’d made it.

At the brink of bawling, he kept swallowing and blinking back moisture, sniffing every couple of seconds. And all the while, his dream woman filled his arms, trembling as she pressed her face against his uniformed chest, seeking a safe haven.

Joseph carried her back to his patrol car—a nice, hot, half-mile journey—though he was too amped on adrenaline to feel any strain on his overworked muscles. He gingerly sat her on the lid of the trunk so he could look for something to cover her. All he found was his plastic rain poncho, neon yellow with the word SHERIFF tacked to the back in reflective material. Figuring it would do, he hurried back to her with the article of sorta-wear. But when he lifted it to fit it over her head, she flinched away.

He quickly lowered the poncho. “No, Miss Daggert,” he murmured softly. “Jenna, I just want to get you covered, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. Sweetheart, you’re naked as a jaybird here. I’m helping you.” He lifted the poncho again.

She winced and grabbed his wrist, but that small sense of control must’ve been what she needed because after that, she let him move the poncho over her.

Once she was covered, she pulled the slicker protectively closer.

Joseph smiled. “That’s my girl.” He patted her hair, then couldn’t control himself, and pulled her close for a hug.

He let a couple tears wet his lashes as the relief consumed him. She was alive. He just couldn’t believe she’d survived.

Finally, he wiped his cheeks with his bloody hands and inspected her wounds before he called dispatch and made his report. The ankle was done for, no walking on that for a while. Her wrists…Lord above if he didn’t throw up a little in his mouth when he saw torn flesh surrounding her delicate joints. The bloody scrape marks covering the back of both her hands told him she’d escaped her bonds the painful way.

He let out a moan, wishing he could take this experience away from her. God damn, what horrors had she endured?

With shaking fingers, he turned his radio back on and got in touch with Emily. He had to repeat himself a few times before Emily finally gasped, “You mean she’s alive?”

Joseph grinned down at Jenna, who’d tilted her head and stared at him with a passive kind of submission. He winked. Yes, she was very much alive.

“That’s an affirmative.” After detailing the situation, he requested clothes.

About as soon as he disconnected, sirens from the backup he’d demanded half an hour earlier blared from up the road. As a police car skidded into view, Jenna jumped to her feet in a panic, then almost dropped with a gasp as she reached for her ankle.

“Easy,” Joseph murmured, steadying her.

He had her securely wrapped in his embrace, making sure none of her privates showed, when Deputy Seymour Perrot leapt from his car, gun drawn, and hurried their way. He skidded to a stop when he saw Jenna. She inched closer to Joseph, ducking her head toward his chest.

Perrot’s eyes went wide. “How the hell did she get out?”

With a choked gasp, Jenna catapulted herself flush against Joseph, clinging like a second skin.

“Whoa,” he said, a protective instinct making him move until he stood between her and the other deputy.

Perrot drew closer and Joseph lifted a hand to stop him. “Just stay back,” he snapped. “She’s gun shy right now. I think she’s doped up on some kind of drug. She doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Harsh sounds send her into a panic. So just be calm, for God’s sake.”

Perrot nodded and took a reluctant step back. “How’d she get here?”

Joseph shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me. She was streaking through the woods bare-assed naked like her tail was on fire before she tangled herself in a nasty briar bush and got us both cut all to piss.” Pausing to send Perrot a glare, he muttered, “You can lower your gun now.”

Perrot did nothing for a second, just stared hard at Jenna. When the sound of more approaching sirens made him glance up the road, he finally blinked back to reality and slowly let the weapon drop to his side.

Another patrol car appeared with an ambulance hot on its heels. As more people arrived on the scene, Jenna’s agitation grew. She refused to let go of Joseph and clung to him. When the EMT tried to check her wounds, she screeched, wanting nothing to do with another pair of hands touching her. Shaking her head vigorously, she wrapped her arms even more tightly around Joseph. He had to admit, it felt damn nice knowing she trusted only him near her.

“Just let Morgan carry her,” the sheriff finally commanded, and everyone else backed off, lingering close by to assist if need be while Joseph stepped up through the opened doors of the ambulance. A female technician hunted up a sheet and tried to rewrap Jenna. But Jenna couldn’t even handle a woman being close, so Joseph took care of the task himself.

Once he swaddled her, she curled into him. He held her against his chest on the quick, bumpy ride to the hospital, relishing every moment he got to hold her. Damn, he missed having a woman rely on him for anything.

But she wasn’t just any woman. This was Jenna. The very female he’d dreamed about for two weeks straight. Except dreaming about her, obsessing over a mere picture of her was nothing compared to physically cradling her in his arms, which made no sense. He didn’t even know her. Yet as she relied on him and no one else, he couldn’t help the overwhelming pleasure of knowing only he could soothe her. A sneaking suspicion struck him that she might be the only person to soothe him right back.

As the vehicle came to a stop and paramedics threw open the back doors of the ambulance to reveal the emergency room entrance, Joseph bit back a depressed sigh.

He’d have to give her up now.

But once again, she clung to him—him alone—when the EMT tried to help her out. He barked at them, ordering them back. Settling on helping Joseph down to the ground instead of Jenna, the pair of techs lingered nearby as Reece Daggert appeared in front of him, his dark hair scattered, his eyes huge with worry.

“Jenna? Oh my God. Jenna!”

For the first time since he’d met her, Jenna lifted her face with recognition and tried to speak. She attempted her brother’s name, but the effort was hoarse and raspy.

Joseph figured she’d want her brother from that point on, but she turned to him again when they tried to escort her inside. It did his heart good to watch her favor him over her own brother, especially since his ego still felt sore about Reece stealing Emily before he could have a go. Didn’t matter who the female was, no man ever liked to be cockblocked. Though seriously, Emily no longer fit into his equation, not that she ever really had. Now that Jenna was alive and in his arms, no other woman mattered.

After carrying her into the ER, Joseph waited until attendants brought a rolling bed, and Jenna finally let him place her on the cot. But she clung to his hand as they tried to cart her off, so the nurses let him stay by her side.

Every time anyone besides Joseph tried to approach, she threw a fit, thrashing and fighting.

Finally, a doctor sighed and muttered, “We need to sedate her.” He eyed Joseph. “Can you hold her long enough for us to get a needle in her?”

He wanted to snarl at them, demand they leave her the fuck alone, but she was in dire need of medical attention. After staring at her with apology thick in his gaze, he swallowed and nodded, wrapping his big, bloody arms around Jenna’s frail torso, pinning her arms at her sides.

She rested her head on his shoulder and once again, he almost started bawling. She was going to hate him when she realized he was about to let them poke her.

The nurse approached. Jenna stiffened, so he tightened his arms around her and lowered his head until their cheeks brushed. “It’s going to be okay.”

Jenna whimpered and turned her face into his neck. “No,” she choked out. “Please.”

Though it broke is heart to do so, Joseph held her arm out for the injection. When the needle penetrated her skin, she jerked and clutched him tighter.

“Please,” she sobbed, her tears wetting his neck. “No.”

He cupped her hair, his fingers tangling in the knotted locks, and hid the tears in his eyes from the nurse as she drained the syringe.

“There,” he whispered when the needle pulled free. “It’s over. Shh, Jenna.” He rocked her gently. “It’s going to be all right now. Everything’s okay. The doctors are going to take good care of you.”

But she merely clung to him and sobbed. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered in a harsh rasp.

Joseph closed his eyes and promised he wouldn’t. He could tell the moment she became unconscious because her body slumped lax against him. For a second, he panicked, thinking they’d killed her. Then her breath stirred the hair on his neck, and he almost fainted from the relief.

He swallowed and lifted his face to the nurse. “She’s out,” he reported and stood so he could lay Jenna gently on the bed. Once he did, he took a step back and looked down at the woman he’d saved. She looked so small and vulnerable, he was tempted to snatch her back into his arms and coddle her forever.

A vision of Kristen as she’d been lying on the gurney, just knocked out for her heart transplant, haunted him. That was the last moment he’d ever seen his wife alive.

Suddenly dizzy, Joseph shook his head when he saw two, then three, Jennas lying on the stretcher.

A nurse paused to frown at him. Her eyes going wide, she grasped his arm. “Someone take him to room three. This one’s about to go down.”

A wheelchair appeared in front of him. He eyed it a moment before shaking his head. He wanted to stay with Jenna. He’d promised.

But as more hands clamped onto him, he found himself plummeting. Someone had barely pushed him into the chair, the seat cushioning his ass as he landed, when his world went black.