“Cameron, please. You’re scaring her.” She kept her tone calm even though every cell in her body wanted to launch at him.
“Enough!” he boomed at them both.
“You’re mad at me, I understand. But please, let’s talk about this.” Desperation made the words rush from her mouth.
It wasn’t the first time Emmy had seen Cameron hit her. But it was the first time he’d raised a hand to his daughter, and Laine would be damned if she let him touch her.
Scalding hate burned the corners of her eyes. Her cheek pulsed, and her neck was sore from the bite. She’d likely have bruises. But none of that mattered right now.
Cameron was furious at her, which was terrifying. She had to defuse his doubts.
He lowered his hand and turned away from Emmy. His scowling face was now aimed at her. “You had your chance to tell me the truth.”
She shuddered.
“If Aisha was involved,” he continued, “she’ll be punished.”
Laine shook her head. “No one is involved in anything. I promise you.” Cautiously, she reached for his hand.
Every word, every action, made her hate herself.
Emmy would remember this—her mother groveling at their abuser’s feet. But she had to survive for her daughter, had to get her away from this madman before he turned on Emmy, too.
Cameron’s fingers lay as still as stone, but he didn’t pull his hand away or strike. “You expect me to believe you weren’t sneaking around?”
Emmy’s little cries were muffled, but still audible. Laine’s heart ached with the need to comfort her. Even just to hold her. But she couldn’t do that until they were alone.
“Yes. We have a child together. I’ve always been faithful to you. You’ve never once doubted me in six years. Why now? I know no one here.”
His dark eyebrows met over his nose, and he gave her a mean smirk. “I know you used my computer to look up the American embassy.”
The bottom of her stomach dropped. She blinked. That’d been weeks ago ...
“I did.” She lowered her gaze, her mind reaching for an excuse. There was no point lying. Honesty was the only way to get him to lower his guard. She met his eyes and squeezed his hand. “You’ve been different since we moved here. I’m hurt by your distance. I miss how things used to be.”
He dropped her fingers, menace written on his face. “You’d run if you could.”
She squirmed. “I’d return to Londonwith youif we could.” The statement wasn’t exactly a lie. Although Cameron hadn’t been around much in London, he hadn’t been vicious. Had seemingly cared. She’d return to the man she once knew in a heartbeat. But that man didn’t exist.
And now, having heard Roarke’s voice, the low, gentle timbre that promised protection, part of her craved him more than anything.
The way Roarke had said her name, so shocked and full of questions ... She wished she could turn back time and do things differently. After their kiss all those years ago, she’d run from him. Hidden from the need and desire.
He was Ollie’s best friend.
No, she couldn’t fall for Roarke, but she could trust him. He’d help them escape even though she had no business relying on him for such a huge request.
Camera directed his gaze out the window.
Her breath stilled in her lungs. She dared a glance at Emmy, who was curled against the door, her eyes downcast and tear streaks on her cheeks.
God, she hated him for doing this. For scarring their daughter. For being such a bastard.
“You’ll never return to London—or the US.” He shifted his gaze back to hers, daggers shooting from his eyes. “And if I ever catch you trying, I’ll take your right hand.”
Chapter
Five
