He’d grown meaner each day since their arrival. More distant from the man she’d once loved. Now, his hands were as gentle as steel wool, as caring as Satan’s.
He gripped her biceps and pinned her against the wall. “Look at me,” he spat.
She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and dragged her gaze over his thick neck and the hair on his jaw. She met his eyes. Once so familiar yet now so foreign.
After Emmy was born, little glimpses of this cruel man started shining through. He hadn’t been heartless, but he’d been controlling at times, sharp-tongued, and had grown increasingly distant from her emotionally with every “work trip” back home.
Now she knew why.
He was never who she’d thought he was. He went to Iraq to let go and drop his mask, be the monster he could be toward his other family. If he’d treated her this way in London, she’d have left him.
And he’d likely sensed that.
He leaned his face closer to hers, so he was almost touching her nose with his. “Tell me what you’re doing,eshgham.” My love. “Tell me and I won’t punish you.”
His threat hovered in the air between them.
“Cameron, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear. I felt ill, so I?—”
“Enough!” He slammed his palm on the wall near her head. His free hand caught her jaw, his punishing grip tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I will find out what you’ve been hiding. Who you’ve been speaking to.”
Fear filled her veins with ice. Her stomach lurched. Oh god. If he suspected her of infidelity, he’d find a way to pin it on her.
“Cameron, there’s no one. I promise you. I will be a good wife.”
His hand slapped hard over her pants, viciously grabbing her sex. He leaned close again, his lips next to her cheek. “This is mine. You are mine, and I’ll make sure you never let another man touch you.” The threat turned her stomach.
She closed her eyes, wishing she could fight back—do anything. But any show of insolence could get her killed.
He dipped his head and bit down on her neck. She gasped as his teeth sunk into her flesh. Pain scorched her senses. He pushed away, ripping his hands and mouth from her.
She gasped and sputtered. “Y-You bit me,” she accused, temporarily forgetting what he could do to her just for the retort.
“Wait until I have you naked again.” He dragged his fingers along her jaw. “I’ve waited a long time to mark you as mine.”
He turned around and stalked out.
A new fire scorched the base of her spine. She’d escape with Emmy if it was the last thing she did—and she might risk killing him first.
Chapter
Four
Roarke clicked off the call, his hands shaking. The sound of Laine’s voice had fucking gutted him. The fear. The desperation. Fury pushed through his veins.
Jesus Christ. All this time. Months. He’d thought she’d just moved on from her past, that he was just a painful reminder of Ollie.
Instead, she’d been held hostage. “Fuck!” he screamed, raking his fingers through his damp hair.
He’d almost missed her call. Had he not noticed the unfamiliar number on his screen, he would’ve just let it go to voicemail. But the second he’d stepped out of the shower, he’d caught the unusual number and answered—thank fuck. Who knew if she’d ever get another chance to use a phone again.
He needed to call Striker and Viper. There were set to ship out in the morning, and that shit was going to have to wait.
They had a new mission now.
They both answered the conference call.
“Yo, what’s up man?” Striker said.
