“That’s why we moved back in with Grandma. I wasn’t just starting over. I was getting us out.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “Does Grandma know?”
Sighing, I shake my head. “No. I didn’t want you thinking too badly of your father and I didn’t want to put Grandma in the position of keeping a secret from you.”
“She’s on her way, though.”
“Yes,” I nod. “And when she arrives, I’ll tell her.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Paige hiccups. “I’m so sorry. I gave you such a hard time about moving and school and everything and I didn’t know and I just kept complaining and?—”
“Hey.” I pull her into my arms, holding her tight. “You weren’t to know. I pulled you out of your life, took you awayfrom your friends and your school. You’re allowed to be upset about your life changing.”
“I should’ve trusted you,” she says, sobbing.
“No, you had every right to be angry and confused. I should have been more honest with you.”
She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “What happens now?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
The truth settles heavily in my chest, because deep down, beneath the relief, beneath the adrenaline, beneath the way my heart seems to beat for the man who brought us here, I do know something.
I know I can’t live like this.
I know I can’t raise my daughter in a safe house surrounded by security, or watching over our shoulders in New York, or any place where conversations involve guns, war and death.
I know I can’t rely on a man—no matter how strong, how gentle, how dangerously good he feels—to protect what is mine.
That ismyjob, not his.
Even if my heart is betraying me at a terrifying speed and I’m falling for him in a way that feels reckless and entirely out of my control.
I press a kiss to Paige’s hair and hold her tighter.
Loving Augusto might feel like safety, but choosing him could mean a life bordered by danger.
And I will not trade my daughter’s peace for my own happiness.
Augusto
Erin and Paige are asleep when I peer through the door to their room. This is the time for me to leave. If I wait until Erin wakes up, she’ll ask questions, and I don’t have answers for her yet.
All I know is an audience is likely to be waiting for me at the lodge—the other men involved in the deal, maybe even the staff. They’ll want to know why I’ve fucked up their plans, why my men haven’t released the goods, why I haven’t had a bullet put into my head yet.
I pause at the threshold of the bedroom anyway.
Paige is curled into Erin’s side, her arms tucked into the space between them. Erin’s hand is tangled in her daughter’s hair, protecting her even in unconsciousness.
Something inside my chest warms at the sight of them both and I step silently into the room.
Erin’s breathing is uneven. It’s from a trifecta of exhaustion, shock, and adrenaline withdrawal. She’s had the day from hell, yet she wears it like a damned beauty queen. Fresh hatred for her dead husband flows through me, curling my fists. How could any man take a woman this spirited, this beautiful, and want to break her with his bare hands?
I temper my own breathing and flex my fingers. There’s a lock of hair covering one eye. I reach out before I can stop myself and smooth it away with my forefinger.
“I’ll be back,” I promise. “You rest, my angel. No one can hurt you here.”
Behind me, Arrow shifts in the hallway.
