Chapter 19

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"Let. Her. Go!"

Ignoring Bruce's demand, Connell clutched Beth tighter and spun on his heels. He raced back in to the lab - which was now lit with the flames that licked along the workbenches lining the wall - and yelled to his henchman. "Get him!"

The two goons ran into the corridor and Beth could hear the sounds of a fight erupting. She knew from her 'reading' that at least one of them was vicious with his fists, but she had faith that Bruce would win.

So she would do her part to get away from Connell.

She kicked her legs forcefully and started driving her elbow into his back, again and again. She was still weak, but he wasn't in the best of shape either, and her actions were enough to disrupt his hold. Either that, or he realised trying to escape holding a thrashing women would be difficult.

So he dropped her. She crashed to the floor, landing awkwardly on her left arm. Before she could get to her feet, a vial smashed onto the concrete in front of her and a red vapour swirled into the air.

She gasped from the surprise...and inhaled the gas before she recognised what it was: the paralysing agent that had taken down Bruce in that junkyard.

"That'll slow him down," Connell muttered, keying in the code for the door at the far end of the lab. When the light blinked green on the lock he wrenched it open and disappeared into the dark hallway beyond.

Beth watched him leave, the gas already taking effect on her muscles. She lay motionless on her side, sucking in air via small panicked breaths, her lungs unable to expand fully. She could feel the heat radiating from the flames to her right, her skin getting warmer as the fire spread.

Now would be a real good time to wrap up that fight, Bruce, she thought just as her breathing stopped altogether.

As if he'd heard her, Bruce came running into the lab seconds later. "Beth!"

All she saw at first were his boots, then his cape flaring out as he sank to his knees beside her. Gentle hands moved her onto her back and tilted her head...and then there he was.

Her Bruce.

The stubble lining his jaw was thicker than usual, as if he hadn't shaved in days, and his eyes looked bright with fear as he took in her state. He glanced at the vial on the floor beside her and seemed to figure out what had happened. "Shit!" He stroked a gloved hand quickly against her cheek. "I've got you, Beth. Just hold on."

Then he pressed his mouth over hers, and his breath filled her starving lungs.

She felt her stuttering heart steady as oxygen raced through her deprived body. Even as the fire in the room grew in size, and the warmth bathing her skin turned into an uncomfortable heat, all she felt was blessed, cool relief.

Bruce was here.

He would save her.

She could see his eyes darting to the flames when he raised his head between breaths, and the tightness of his jaw spoke of his concern. She wanted to run her fingers over that clenched muscle. Soothe his fears and let him know that everything would be alright now that they were together.

But the gas was still holding her captive.

So Bruce continued to breathe for her.

And with every touch of his lips to hers, she got a glimpse of what he'd been through the past five days.

She saw their kiss at the party from his perspective; felt his desire and his...joy. An emotion she never would have associated with such a taciturn, melancholic man. She hated herself for extinguishing that joy with her rejection.

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