“Enough,” she snapped. Her cheeks burned. “I called to reconcile with you. To stop this ridiculous pursuit. Iknowyou love Emmy.” Desperation tightened her words. “But this isn’t the way. I don’t want Emmy to think of you as a monster.”
“She’ll know who the real monster is once she’s with me. I won’t let you take her from me,shalkhteh.” Slut. “I’ll find you both. And when I do, she’s going to watch me cut off your fucking head.”
The blood drained from Laine’s face, and the device slipped from her fingers to land on the carpet. Roarke snagged the phone and shouted into the speaker, but she couldn’t process a word. Her breath came out in sharp gasps.
Roarke hung up and lowered the device to the desk. He knelt on the floor in front of her, cupping her hands. “Baby, he’s gone.”
Tears raced down her cheeks. She shook her head, hating that Cameron could have this effect on her. “I don’t understand how he became this heinous person.”
Roarke lifted her hands and kissed her fingers again, then lowered them back to her lap. “I’m going to handle this. You don’t need to know the details, but I promise you, he’ll never come after you and Emmy again. Do you trust me?”
She stared at the hard lines of his jaw. He was so strong and capable. Always had been—just like Ollie. Her chest ached with adoration for the man in front of her and for the one she missed more than anything.
“I don’t want you to leave.” She whispered the confession that hurt so much to speak.
The last time he’d walked out the door, she hadn’t seen him in six years.
“I won’t be long. A few days.”
“It’s dangerous.”
His mouth lifted at the corner. “This is nothing, babe. Wraith’s coming with me, and Striker will stay here with you and Emmy.”
“What if you get caught?” Tears scorched her eyes at the idea of him being thrown into a foreign prison. If he even made it there. The chances of someone catching him and not trying to kill him were slim.
“I’ve faced more-dangerous men. Trust me. Cameron’s a fucking gnat.”
She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. He was likely right. Cameron wasn’t a badass. He wasn’t brave or heroic, either. But he was emotionally charged and unstable, which was more terrifying.
He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to catch that red-eye. I’ll be back before you even miss me.”
Her lips twitched. “I doubt that.”
She watched him leave the room. He returned minutes later with a duffel bag in hand. With her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, she walked him to the door, where he and Wraith put on their shoes.
Worry churned in her belly and tears clouded her vision. This wasn’t Roarke’s battle. It was hers.
What could she do, though? Cameron had to be stopped, and there was no other way.
Roarke’s eyes found hers, and he searched her face as if needing one more ounce of assurance he was doing the right thing. She circled her arms around his neck and brought her face near his throat. “Be careful,” she whispered.
He kissed her cheek, then found her mouth effortlessly. “Always. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The second the door clicked shut, regret hammered her chest. What if she’d done the wrong thing? What if he died because of her? She couldn’t bear another loss after Ollie.
“He’s good, Laine. Don’t worry.”
Striker stood in the hallway behind her, his arms folded across his chest. A dish towel hung over his shoulder. His hair waved back from his crisp blue eyes. “I’ve never seen Rogue like this.”
She frowned and stepped closer. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged and glanced away before striking her with his intense blues. “He seems happy,” he finally said.
“Why don’t you relax before bed?” he suggested, before she could respond. “I’m almost done in the kitchen, and then I’m gonna crash on the couch so I can keep watch.”
Sighing deeply, she nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll take a long bath and go to bed early. Thanks for cleaning up.”
“Don’t mention it. And Laine?” he called, when she turned toward the hallway leading to the main-floor bedrooms. “He’ll be back.”
