His jaw flexes. “If I didn’t have a target on my back before,” he says darkly. “I sure as hell do now.”
We swing by Karmen’s apartment so she can change clothes, swapping my truck for her car so it’ll be less conspicuous when getting past security.
Hours later, I’m still reeling. I was two seconds away from burying myself inside her when her father walked into that room. The bastard put a hit out on me. I filled Reid in on the ride over. He’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of us breaking into the senator’s house, especially now that he wants me dead—but we need leverage. We need proof to take his ass down. And after the way he treated Karmen tonight, it’s not just about me anymore.
This is personal.
I want him to pay.
I fold myself into the trunk while Karmen works her charm on the security guard. A few minutes later, the latch clicks and the lid lifts.
We’re parked in the garage. Harsh fluorescent light floods the space as I climb out, blinking against the brightness. I secure my gun in its holster at my ribs before quietly shutting the trunk.
“Any problems?” I ask, shrugging into my jacket.
Wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black leather jacket, she checks and holsters her gun. “Nope, he believed every word.”
“Good,” I nod. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I think I should go in alone,” she says.
I laugh. “Not a chance, sweetheart.”
I spin toward the door, but she stops me by clutching my forearm. “Benson, please, let’s be reasonable about this.”
“I am being reasonable. You’re not going in alone. Period.”
“It’ll be harder to explain you being here if we’re caught.”
“You said it yourself. We’re not going to get caught.”
She releases a shaky breath. “Okay, but you follow my lead, got it.”
“I’m yours to command,” I say, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth, because if I kiss her on the lips again, we won’t leave this fucking garage.
We enter the house through the utility room off the kitchen. Karmen enters the code, deactivating the alarm.
She leads me through the dimly lit house, through a corridor, and down a hallway. The house is massive and decorated with the extravagance you’d expect from a man like Ashford.
“You grew up here?”
Grimacing, she nods once.
“Jesus, Kar, it’s like a fucking museum.”
“Let’s just say I was never allowed to have friends over growing up.”
Her words only serve to fuel my rage toward her parents. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to grow up in a place like this—cold and all alone. No happiness, no love, no birthday parties.
The thought has me grinding my teeth.
That overwhelming need to protect her and give her everything she ever missed out on in life roars to life in my chest. Seeing her interactions with them nearly sent me over the edge.
Who treats their own daughter that way?
Then her mother stood by, doing nothing to defend or protect her, which enraged me even more. I quickly realized what I asked of Karmen back then was impossible for her to give. Because she had no idea what it was like to be loved unconditionally. How could I expect her to know what it looked like or how to receive it?
I vowed then and there to show her what it meant to be loved. I will show her every day until she knows without a doubt what it means to be truly mine.
