Fire scorched her scalp. She grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into his skin, but he just yanked harder.
“Sh-She’s gone,” Laine stammered. “She’s with Roarke. We knew you were coming.”
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Your so-called bodyguard is dead. No way he was expecting us.”
A whimper came from the bathtub.
Oh god.
Laine closed her eyes as grief took hold of her muscles. Both for Striker and Emmy.
Cameron’s head cocked toward the bathtub. He let go of Laine’s hair, and she melted to the floor. He tore back the shower curtain. Emmy shrieked.
“No!” Laine lunged for him.
Cameron kicked her in the ribs, sending her backward. Wind rushed from her lungs and pain exploded over her midsection. She grasped her side, and her head spun with nausea.
He pulled Emmy out of the tub. Tears coated her daughter’s pale cheeks. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her lips trembled.
“You hiding from me,habibi?” My love.
Laine’s skin crawled.
“Mommy!”
Lain stretched out her arms toward Emmy, but Cameron twisted her away. She scrambled to her knees but didn’t dare stand. The last thing she wanted was for Emmy to see her get hit again.
Laine locked her gaze on Emmy. She still held Big Bun, and Laine was grateful she had that small comfort.
“Amir!” Cameron bellowed, as he stepped over Laine toward the bathroom door.
She gave her daughter a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” she mouthed.
Emmy’s small body shook with tremors. Every instinct made Laine want to lose her mind, to fight him. To tear her daughter away from his disgusting hands. But she couldn’t do any of that.
Their only chance was to pray Roarke got here before they left.
A hulking man with a shaved head and beady eyes appeared. “Yes, sir?”
“Take her.” He passed Emmy to him.
“No!” Laine screamed, diving for Amir. Cameron roughly hooked an arm around her waist. He brought his mouth to her ear. “Remember what I said,eshgham.” My love. “I will cut off your head in front of her. If you fight me, it will be worse.”
Emmy kicked and flailed, her little face twisted with terror. Big bun landed on the floor.
“Take her to the car,” Cameron demanded.
Laine hung in Cameron’s hold as Amir turned away. Emmy’s scream trailed behind him.
Roarke satramrod straight staring out of the windshield. His seatbelt was tight around his chest, but he couldn’t lean back. Couldn’t do anything but will Wraith to fucking drive.
Anxiety thickened the walls of his lungs. Every inhale took effort. Cameron would’ve gotten to them by now. Where the hell was Striker?
“I’m callin’ ’em again,” Wraith said tersely, as if reading Roarke’s mind. He commanded his device to dial their friend.
Roarke couldn’t process his worry about Striker right now, but it was there. Hell, even Wraith was rattled. Shit like this didn’t happen to their team. They were the best of the best. Otherwise, Roarke wouldn’t have left Laine and Emmy alone with him and only him.
He should’ve done more. Should’ve told Viper to stay at their place too. This might never have happened if Striker had been left with backup.
