The door handle rattled fiercely. The tiny lock in the center shook. Laine swallowed a mouthful of tears. Her fingers turned to ice, but she held fast to the trigger, then checked to ensure the safety was off.
“I know you’re in there, bitch.” The hoarse whisper tore at her skin like hot wax.
Cameron.
How? She wanted to scream. To cry. He’d found her. Cameron had come all the way here, had been right on their heels ... and he wouldn’t stop now. This was the end.
But she’d be damned if she went down without a fight.
“Roarke. If Emmy’s still here, take care of my baby. I love you.” She hung up. The phone landed on the bathmat before she could process the weight of the last words she’d said to him.
The truth.
She yearned to hear his response, but she’d have to die knowing her words were enough.
Bang!
The door jumped with force. Laine tensed, her muscles leaping with the hinges.
“Mommy.” Emmy’s pained whisper came from behind the shower curtain.
“Baby, just stay down. Be quiet,” she begged, tears hot on her cheeks. “I love you, Emmy.”
Bang!
Her daughter whined softly. Laine focused on the door.
The bastard had come for them—but he’d have to get through Laine and her Glock before he could even look at Emmy.
Crash!
The door burst open. Wood splintered, and cool air rushed in.
Cameron’s deadly glare landed on her. He sneered.
Laine rolled her shoulders. With her back still against the tub, her hands locked on the weapon. Adrenaline vibrated her senses.
She’d kill to protect them, but she didn’t want Emmy to see her mother kill her father. “I’ll shoot,” she snarled.
His smile turned vicious. “You don’t have the balls.”
Laine pulled the trigger—a warning shot fired right over Cameron’s shoulder. The acoustics of the bathroom intensified the sharp clap. Emmy didn’t scream. This fact shook Laine, but she couldn’t draw attention to her daughter’s hiding spot.
He lunged, his eyes round with shock. “You fucking bitch.”
Terror clamped down on her throat. She fired again, but the bullet missed its target. Cameron seized her ankle and yanked her away from the tub. Her head hit the tile.
Dizziness assaulted her, spiraling her to the cusp of oblivion. Pain radiated down her neck as her brain grappled to rush back to reality.
The speckled ceiling spun in the light shining from the bedroom. Cameron’s rough hand wrenched the gun from her fingers.
A scream of protest caught in her throat. She barreled into a sitting position, driving her fingernails toward Cameron’s face. She scratched the thin flesh at the corner of his eye.
His knuckles bashed against her cheekbone.
Laine winced, stifling a cry. She covered her cheek with her hand, her pulse roaring in her ears. She had to get him out of the bathroom. Had to get him away from Emmy.
“Where’s my daughter, you goddamn whore? Hmm?” He sank his fingers into her hair and jerked her up to meet his eyes.
