She squirms in protest.
“Laney.”
Saint’s voice is calm.
Low.
Steady.
He kneels in front of me so our eyes are level.
“They’re gone,” he says softly. “You’re safe.”
I try to breathe.
The air won’t go all the way into my lungs.
“They were in the tavern,” I whisper.
The words feel unreal even as I say them.
“They made it upstairs… to the living area.”
My voice shakes harder.
“They were right there.”
Saint’s jaw tightens, but his voice stays gentle.
“I know.”
His eyes search mine.
“I’m sorry we didn’t realize how dangerous they were. Now we know.”
His tone hardens slightly.
“It won’t happen again.”
“They were going to—”
My voice cracks.
“They were going to kill me.”
Saint doesn’t hesitate.
“And they didn’t.”
His gaze sharpens.
“Because they don’t get to.”
He reaches for Emmy.
For a second my arms tighten instinctively.
Then I let him take her.
