“The bedroom,” Laine said. She pointed to a set of keys dangling from the lock on the bedroom door. “Lock him in there.”
Roarke hauled Cameron to his feet.
The man fought and twisted, jerking toward Laine. “I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” Spit and blood sputtered from his mouth.
Anger flashed through Roarke. He shoved Cameron into the bedroom and watched him slam into the ground.
“Our bag,” Laine called.
He swooped the tote from the floor along with the flashlight, then closed and locked the door. He turned to Laine, studyingher for the first time under the yellow glow. A red mark streaked the side of her face, and her cheekbone was swollen. The corners of her eyes were creased with fear.
“Th-Thank you.”
He slid his gaze to her daughter’s trembling back. Her sobs were now subdued. He reached out, gently cradled the back of Laine’s head, and kissed her forehead. “I’ll always come for you, Lainie.”
She leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding them both.
“This is Emmy,” Laine said, through her tears. “Honey, this is the friend I told you about. Roarke.”
The girl lifted her head. Big green eyes met his. “Hi,” she said simply.
Part of him wanted to wipe the stray tears from Emmy’s cheeks, but he didn’t chance scaring her more. “We’re gonna get out of here right now. You’ve been really brave. Just a little more, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
His heart wrenched at the sound of the tiny wail that followed.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Roarke quickly moved in front of Laine and aimed his rifle.
Striker appeared, his gear and form unmistakable even in the darkness. He didn’t slow his approach. “Sorry. I caught a guard on the stairs a minute ago. He was on his way down here. Let’s move. I’ve got your six.”
Roarke dropped the flashlight to the ground. Now that he’d seen Laine’s face and knew she was all right, he didn’t need the light. It’d be a fucking beacon drawing their enemies to them.
He met Laine’s gaze. “Stay between us.” He aimed the rifle up the stairs as they began their ascent.
“Rogue to Viper. Inbound to northwest exit. Do you copy?”
“Viper here. Copy. Second level is secure. I’m certain one of the guards called the authorities.”
His skin prickled with irritation, and behind him, Striker cursed. Great. Now they had to travel two miles on foot with heat on their asses. Laine’s soft murmurs floated to his ears, anchoring him to the present.
To the woman he no longer knew but would do everything to protect.
“Hold at exit. I’m en route.” Viper clicked off.
They reached the small landing at the top of the stairs. Roarke held out his left hand behind him, ensuring Laine stopped. Less than a minute later, Viper came down from the main level. “Got the precious cargo?”
“Affirmative. On my go.” Roarke pushed open the door, and cool air rushed in. Fuck, did Laine have something warmer? Emmy was wearing long pajamas, but he hoped to hell there were more clothes in the bag.
All was silent, but tension cinched his chest. “Go,” he breathed.
Hustling out the door and onto the patio stones, he kept his senses tuned to Laine’s steps on his heels. Skirting the side of the house, he retraced their path, moving twice as fast as he had on the way in.
In seconds they were protected by the trees lining the concrete wall. He raced to the bush, where they’d left their climbing gear.
A blast of light lit the backyard.
Fuck.
