The words cut deep.
If he were truly her knight, she wouldn’t have been huddled on that stage with the others—terrified, bruised, treated like cattle. If they’d been minutes later, she could’ve vanished like Gaby’s sister—lost to him forever.
The thought carved straight through him.
Alec buried his face in her hair trying to contain his unrelenting rage, and the knowledge that no amount of vigilance could erase what had already been done.
Exhausted and finally safe enough to let go, she was asleep within minutes.
He wasn’t.
He’d been up all night, but he was wired. Every time he closed his eyes, the horror returned—Benny’s knife, Enzo’s taunting lisp, Emily standing in the glare. It was going to take a long time before those images faded.
So he held her.
Not because he couldn’t let go—but because, right now, she needed the anchor.
Chapter 24
Emily didn’t leave the house for a week.
She was stiff and sore the first few days—aftereffects of the stun gun, Alec suspected. Ibuprofen and warm baths helped, but her muscles twitched at odd moments, as though they hadn’t forgotten the jolt. Sometimes her fingers trembled when she reached for a glass. The aftereffects no one ever mentioned on TV crime shows were unnerving.
But the real reason she hid out in Alec’s house were the visible marks on her body impossible to ignore. Long sleeves in the Florida heat were intolerable, but the burn on her neck—red, irritated, twin prong marks that resembled a vampire bite—felt like a brand. She kept it covered and wore hoodies with the AC cranked up so she didn’t have to look at the reminder of her time as a captive. More importantly, so Alec didn’t have to.
When he did, he got quiet.
Even with Enzo dead and Benny facing a lifetime in prison, anger flashed in Alec’s eyes. He contained it, but it was simmering, and unmistakable.
He was careful with her. Twice a day, he tended her burns and bruises with the special ointment Dev’s doctor recommended during his house call. She hadn’t felt it necessary, but Alec and Dev insisted, and the compounded concoction—vitamin E, lanolin, and several other things she’d already forgotten. Alec’s care had something to do with it too. His fingers skimmed her skin—efficient, almost clinical. Then he’d brush a soft kiss to her temple.
She never told him what those seconds under the stun gun felt like. Not just the searing pain but the way her body seized, muscles out of her control. The collapse when her limbs betrayed her, buckling like a puppet with its strings cut. And beneath the ache, something deeper: the terror of being helpless, of having her autonomy ripped away, her ability to fight—even pointlessly—stolen.
He never asked. Never pushed.
And when the nightmares came, he held her.
She’d wake gasping, heart pounding, memories of Enzo’s knife at her throat and slicing through her clothes, being forced onto the stage, and theuntold numbers of faceless buyers watching safely behind a computer screen. In her nightmares, Alec didn’t get to her in time. She’d scream, thrash, reach for an escape that wasn’t there—until he’d pull her against him and whisper assurances, until the terror ebbed.
Some nights, she wasn’t sure she believed him when he said she was safe.
During the day, she cooked. Elaborate meals that filled the apartment with warmth and spice. Alec would come home, drop his keys, inhale, then groan in bliss.
“You’re spoiling me. If I eat like this every night, I’ll get fat and have to find a new line of work.”
She stirred the sauce, smiling. “That sounds perfect.”
“The fat part?”
“A new line of work.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Then I wouldn’t have to worry.”
“You don’t. We don’t take chances.”
She set the spoon down and turned. “Storming a warehouse full of armed criminals isn’t taking chances? Not that I’m not grateful.”
He pulled her into his arms. “We outnumbered and outgunned them. Which is why you’re here and they’re either dead or behind bars. Those situations are rare. Don’t worry. Not about that.”
But she would—worry was a habit she could never break.She whispered, “okay,” even though they both knew it wasn’t true.
