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  I think if any other male had tried to touch me, right then, I would have screamed. But for some reason, Bax's arm around my waist was comforting. Part of me was terrified of him, knowing what he was capable of. But I also had no doubts that he'd never put a hand on me to hurt me.

  My stomach flipped, lurched. I closed my eyes to focus on not puking, but when I closed my eyes, all I could see was those faces, and I could feel their hands on me, pawing at my breasts, ripping at my pants. I sagged in Bax's hold, and shook away from him, collapsing downward. He guided me to a sitting position and I felt a wall at my back, and felt him beside me, close but not touching.

  "Fuck." He sighed the curse word tiredly. "You're safe, Eva. I've got you. They're gone. They're taken care of."

  I nodded, but it wasn't until I forced my eyes open that the images vanished, and even then I could almost feel their hands on me still, and I felt dirty. Grimy. Filthy. Breathing was hard.

  Bax's eyes scrutinized me. "You're still freaking out, ain'tcha?"

  I nodded. "Can't--can't breathe."

  "Listen." He shifted so he was kneeling in front of me. "We gotta get you off the street. You need a drink, and you need a long hot shower and a change of clothes."

  "But I don't have any other clothes."

  He didn't ask any questions, which I appreciated, even though I would have, in his place. "Okay, well...if you trust me enough to come with me," he said, "then I can get you all that--a stiff drink, a shower, clean clothes, and something to eat, if you're hungry."

  I met his gaze. My mind flashed to him in the ring, huge and brutal, smashing his opponent to the ground with vicious ease; I saw him devastating four men as if they were nothing, one of whom had been armed. But yet, I looked into his eyes, and I only saw someone who cared about what had happened to me. He seemed to genuinely care, deeply, about what I needed and wanted.

  I worked myself to my feet, and managed a slow, steadying breath. "I trust you."

  His grin was cocky and beautiful and kind all at once. "Thatta girl, Eva."

  "My name," I snapped, "is Evangeline."

  "And my name is Baxter Badd." He took my hand, bowed over it, and kissed the back of it, his eyes on mine, twinkling with amusement. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  One's heart most assuredly should not do flips this soon after what I'd just experienced, but for some reason, mine did.

  Good Girl Gone Badd

  August 4, 2017

  Also by Jasinda Wilder

  Visit me at my website: www.jasindawilder.com

  Email me: [email protected]

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  From the world of Big Girls and Rock Stars: Big Love Abroad

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  Falling Into You

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