He turned his head. “Mack, I need a little privacy, please.”
“I’ll be in the other room until you make your decision, but it has to be soon.”
Gideon nodded. “I am safe. I knew that would be your first concern, Rory, so I asked the doc to check you thoroughly. Whitney didn’t plant a bomb or a program. He did, however, make your lungs worse. Doc thinks he can help with that if you want him to.”
He nibbled at her fingers again and waited to see what she would do. She hadn’t wanted any member of his team to help her.
“Doc saved your life. You were nearly dead when we got to you. Without him, there was no chance. I didn’t hesitate to use every member of my team to find you. They helped me bring you home.” He bit down gently on her fingertips again. “I’m just going to come clean here, Rory, and be honest with you. I was all for waiting aspatiently as possible and persuading you to be with me, but I’m no longer going in that direction.”
Her long lashes fluttered, and for one heart-stopping moment, her lips seemed to quirk as if she might be amused.
You aren’t?
She sounded exhausted, as if she were going under again, and he was probably going to lose his moment with her. He had to tell her while he had her to himself.
“No, Red. I’m not letting you walk away from me. I screwed up bad. I know I did, but you’re not better off without me, and I’m sure as hell not better off without you. So, bottom line, we’re going to do this relationship thing. We’re going to make it work. Getting your trust back will take work, and I’ll put the time in, but you’re staying.”
Her lips did that little quirk again, and this time he did feel a hint of amusement in his mind.Then call Larrsen.
He bit down on her fingertips a little harder. “Rory, you have to know what I am. I told you. I’m not a choirboy. I’m a predator.”
You’re mine, choirboy or predator, but call Larrsen.
She sounded as if she was slipping away from him. He glanced toward the room where Paul was sleeping. He knew the toll that healing took on a psychic surgeon. Gideon had come so close to losing her.
“You’re tying my hands, Red.” He leaned over her and brushed kisses on her forehead. “They’ll want your clothes. Photographs. Are you prepared for that? For a trial?”
Will it get that far?
She knew him so well. He’d never allow her to relive the trauma of what those men had put her through. “What’s the point of letting Larrsen arrest them?”
My friends. Harvey. Clearing our names.
Of course she would worry about that.
“I’ll make the call, Rory, but they’ll want to ask you questions. Are you going to be up for that?”
Don’t know, but I’ll do my best. So tired.
“Sleep, Red. I’ll have Doc with you when the police get here.”
She didn’t respond. Gideon called in Mack and told him his decision to call Larrsen. They discussed how they would handle the various questions that would naturally arise as to how Rory had been found and why the police hadn’t been informed immediately.
Mack, as the commanding officer, made the call to Larrsen.
Larrsen informed Mack that he would be bringing two others with him—one his commander—and to expect them immediately. He also told Mack it was imperative not to tell anyone, not even her friends or boss, that she had been located, even before Mack had conveyed the same to Larrsen.
“I had my men set up cameras, and we’re expecting the men who kidnapped her to return. When they do, we want to detain, identify and question them,” Mack said.
“I presume you mean turn them over to the police,” Larrsen said.
“That as well,” Mack murmured.
“Is Rory able to talk?”
“Not so far, although the doctor said she should be coming round soon. We were careful with her clothing. It’s bagged according to protocol. Photos of the damage to her body were taken. The doctor will have a full report for you. She was tortured. When we recovered her, she had a hood over her head, and her wrists and ankles were secured to a metal chair.”
Gideon glanced at his watch. Too much time had gone by. The men who had left Rory in the warehouse had deliberately left open wounds that would attract rats to feed on the blood. They’d left a hood covering her face, knowing she could barely breathe. They had to believe she would die. What did they want?
