Chapter 29: "We’re out princess."
Isabella didn’t answer him. The moment his name left his mouth, her legs simply stopped supporting her weight.
All the fear, the exhaustion, and the absolute terror that had been holding her together for days snapped all at once.
She moved forward, her knees giving out entirely.
Aaron caught her before her body could hit the damp ground. One of his large arms swept around her waist, lifting her weight easily, while his other hand instinctively cradled the back of her head.
Because of his height, her face landed directly against the thick, heavy fabric of his coat, right beneath his chin.
A ragged, choking sob burst from her throat. She didn’t mean to, but her fingers clawed into his lapels, holding on so tight her knuckles turned white.
"Aaron..." she gasped, hyperventilating as tears soaked through his shirt. "I thought... I thought you weren’t coming. I thought he had me..."
"Easy baby girl," Aaron said. His voice was quiet, lacking any of the cruel edge he used with other men. He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing down the tangled strands with slow, steady movements. "Look at me."
He caught himself instantly, pausing for a fraction of a second as he remembered the cloudy green eyes buried against his chest.
"Listen to me," he corrected softly, his hand resting on the back of her neck to anchor her. "Breathe, princess. Just breathe. I’m here. Nobody is touching you."
"Why did you take so long?" she sobbed, her whole body shaking violently against him. "They locked me in... I had to crawl through the..."
"I know. I’m sorry," he murmured, his thumb rubbing small circles against her shoulder.
He kept his coat wrapped around her, shielding her small frame from the cold draft of the tunnel and the dark shapes of the two dead guards lying nearby.
"You did good. You got out. Now let me handle the rest."
He reached up, using his broad thumb to brush away the wet dirt and tears on her cheek.
"Please," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Just take me out of here. Please."
"Of course I will, princess," he whispered.
Behind them, the faint sound of hurrying footsteps echoed from the main entrance of the passage.
"Step away from her, Kazarov!"
Luke stood thirty feet down the corridor, his face bloody and his coat torn, a heavy black pistol pointed straight at Aaron’s head.
Five Kingston guards stood lined up behind him, weapons raised, their flashlights cutting bright white beams through the dark air.
"Get away from Mrs. Carter," Luke barked, his voice tight with pure stress. "Right now!"
Isabella stiffened in Aaron’s arms, her breathing catching. "Aaron..."
Aaron didn’t turn around right away. He didn’t drop his hands, nor did he hurry to pull his own weapon.
He just stood there in the narrow stone hall, holding Isabella against his chest, gently wiping the remaining smudge of dirt off her other cheek with his thumb.
"Mrs. Carter," Luke called out, trying to make his tone softer, though the edge of desperation leaked through.
"Come over here. Please. Mr. Carter is on his way back right now. He’s coming to protect you. Don’t let this man use you."
Isabella pressed her face back into Aaron’s chest, her head shaking in a tiny, terrified motion.
"No..." she whispered.
The single word was small, but in the quiet tunnel, Luke heard it clearly.
His expression cracked for a split second, a flicker of genuine shock washing over his eyes before he hardened his grip on his gun.
"Step away, Aaron! I will shoot!"
Aaron finally turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder with lazy, unbothered eyes. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you, Luke?"
"How are we going to get out?" Isabella asked, her voice muffled as she clutched his coat. "They have guns..."
"Don’t worry about it," Aaron said to her. He raised his eyes back to Luke, his jaw tight.
"Princess," Aaron murmured, keeping his voice low so only she could hear.
"What?" she asked, her cloudy green eyes wide with confusion.
"You have sensitive hearing, right?"
"Yes... since I lost my sight."
He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small pair of soft, noise-dampening ear muffs.
Without saying anything, he fitted them gently over Isabella’s ears, smoothing her dark hair out of the way.
She opened her mouth to ask why, but Aaron turned around, shielding her entirely behind his massive frame. He reached up to tap his earpiece.
"Your father’s house has lovely history, Isabella," Aaron said out loud, his voice carrying clearly down the tunnel toward Luke. "Pity about the foundation, though."
Luke frowned, his eyes darting to the walls. "What are you talking about—"
Aaron ignored him, his voice going straight to the person on the other end of the earpiece.
"Do it."
"WAIT—" Luke screamed.
BOOM!
The charge attached to the main stone support pillar twenty yards down the passage detonated with a deafening, chest-rattling roar.
Dust, shattered rock, and thick gray smoke erupted through the air. The shockwave knocked the three guards behind Luke clean off their feet.
Before the stone dust could even settle, Aaron spun around, scooped Isabella up into his arms in a fluid bridal carry, and took off running.
Isabella gasped as her feet left the ground. Even with the heavy pads over her ears, she felt the deep rumble of the earth vibrating through her bones.
The sensation of being lifted and carried fast through the dark made her head spin, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Aaron’s neck, burying her face into the side of his throat.
"Hold on, princess!" Aaron shouted over the sound of crumbling stone, ducking his head as small pieces of ceiling rained down around them.
Through the dust behind Luke threw himself over the rubble, coughing violently, his gun still raised. "After them! Don’t let him reach the outer gate!"
Three guards scrambled over the fallen rock, firing off blind shots into the hazy corridor.
But every time Luke lined up his sights, Aaron’s broad back blocked Isabella completely.
Luke’s finger hovered over the trigger, shaking with frustration, but he couldn’t take the shot without risking hitting her.
"Dammit!" Luke yelled, lowering his weapon as Aaron rounded the final corner toward the sunlight.
At the end of the passage, a heavy wooden door swung open to the fresh air of the estate’s outer gardens.
Four of Aaron’s men were waiting near a large, black, reinforced JEEP, their rifles pointed back toward the doorway to cover their boss.
Aaron stepped out into the crisp morning air. He stopped beside the open car door and carefully lowered Isabella down to her feet.
"We’re out, princess," he said softly.
Isabella took one step, her head spinning from the sudden burst of light she couldn’t see, the smell of gunpowder, and the sheer emotional crash of the last ten minutes. Her knees buckled again.
"Whoa," Aaron caught her shoulders. "Isabella?"
She didn’t answer. Her eyelids fluttered, her body going completely limp as her mind finally gave up the fight against exhaustion. She fainted right into his arms.
Silence fell over the driveway.
One of Aaron’s operatives, a guy with a military cut standing by the rear bumper, blinked. "...Boss?"
Briggs, holding a rifle, scratched his jaw. "Did... did she just pass out?"
Aaron looked down at the unconscious woman in his arms, his mouth twitching into a flat, tired line. He let out a quiet sigh. "She picked a wonderful time for a nap."
"Means she trusts you, boss," the first operative grinned.
Aaron gave the man a look cold enough to freeze water, and the grin vanished off the guy’s face instantly. "Get the doors open. We’re moving before Kian gets near the perimeter."