“Yes. If that’s okay?” I was worried that staying with Dallas’s family would bring danger to their door, but he was unconcerned.
I didn’t understand why. These are contract killers, not mall cops, and they have five hundred thousand reasons to find me.
At the time, Dallas simply said, “I wouldn’t trust your life to anyone else.”
Looking at these men, and finding out that there are half a dozen more who were former special forces living in the area, I feel a little better. But I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to these people.
Dallas has a plan. I have to trust that it works.
“I’ve got his back, Gemma,” Bronco says a little while later. “He isn’t a lone wolf. Not anymore. Anson and I are going with him. We’ll bring him back to you. If that’s what you want.”
I nod. “It is.”
His smile is gentle. “Good.”
“Bronco? I know not everyone will understand his choices. Do you… do you think your parents will?”
He doesn’t hesitate in his answer. “Yes. They’ve missed him more than he realizes. Nothing he could possibly have done would take away their love.”
My heart warms. “I’m glad.”
“Something tells me he’s more concerned about your approval than theirs.”
“He doesn’t need to be. I know him. Maybe not every part, but enough. Dallas King is a good man. He just needs a little redemption.”
“Only in his eyes. Not ours.” Bronco nods and walks back to Camille’s side, wrapping an arm around her.
“You okay?” Dallas asks low in my ear as he comes up behind me.
“I like it here.”
He stiffens, then immediately relaxes. “I do too.” His hands settle on my hips and he presses his forehead to my hair. “We’re leaving soon.”
My heart flips, then starts to pound. I’m not ready for him to go.
I turn in his arms and hug him tight. I want to beg him to come back to me, but the words won’t form.
Dallas holds me close. “I’m coming back for you, Gemma. And when I do…”
His voice drops rough against my ear.
“You’re mine.”
CHAPTER TEN
DALLAS
Night swallows the industrial park like it’s been waiting for us. The air smells like salt from Puget Sound, and in the distance, the cranes from Seattle’s port spear into the sky.
Roark’s building sits at the far end of a row of warehouses. Cameras on each corner sweep the lot, while a bored guard on a smoke break scrolls through his phone.
I watch from the shadows, feeling a familiar calm wash over me.
Beside me, Bronco whispers, “This feels like a trap.” He's packed with more weapons than Anson and I put together. But then he favors close combat. Distance is my best skill.
Not tonight.
“It is. That’s why we’re going in fast,” I reply.
