Three days later . . .
Emmett pulled into his designated spot in the lot behind his apartment complex. Close to the building. Well-lit. A visible security camera mounted on a light pole, towering high from a few feet away.
He cut the engine and fell back against his leather seat with a blown-out breath. It had been the same since that night at the safe house. Actually, no. That was a lie.
It was gettingworse.
The maddening what-ifs and gut-churning regret. The unyielding weight he felt from almost getting Janie killed. The reality of what could have happened was like a plague taking over every cell in his body.
She could’ve died.
He’d been right there, literally staring into Janie’s gorgeous blue eyes. His lips had been a hair’s breadthaway from hers, his focus hell and back from where it should have been. And if she hadn’t accidentally knocked the spoon from the counter when she did?—
Emmett squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but he should’ve known better than to think it would work. Every time he let his lids fall, the same memory played on an endless loop in his mind.
The assassin’s bullet whizzing over their heads. The glass shattering as it pierced the window several feet back from where they’d been standing.
He opened his eyes before envisioning her hunched, still body beneath his on the kitchen floor. That was always the worst. Remembering that first, terrifying moment when he thought she was dead.
It was stupid. There hadn’t even been any blood, and almost immediately, it had become clear that Janie hadn’t been hit. But in that brief, fraction-of-a-second, Emmett had feared the absolute worst.
That Janie had been hurt—had been killed—because he’d let his guard down and had gotten too close.
This is exactly why you can’t let anyone in.
When people got close, they left. It was a lesson Emmett had learned early and often, thanks to the realities of life.
For a few, whirlwind days, he’d allowed himself to reconsider his hard-fast rule about letting others inside his heart. He cared about Janie. Far more than he should. And because of his lapse in judgement, she’d come damn close to being killed.
Even now, as his heart thumped with unyielding pressure against his ribs, Emmett knew he deserved thepangs of guilt. A fitting punishment he damn well deserved.
You deserve a hell of a lot worse than that.
A growl of frustration filled the car’s interior as he shoved open his door. He slammed it shut behind him, the sharp echoes calling out into the night. With the key fob in his fist, Emmett locked the doors and forced himself to walk away.
The soles of his boots crunched over tiny pebbles of loosened asphalt as he marched toward the secured, resident-only entrance. When he got to the doors, he quickly punched in the code, entering near the building’s rear elevators.
Emmett chose the stairs, as he had for the past three nights. He could play it off as his way of getting a few extra steps, but deep inside, he knew the truth.
You’re avoiding her.
He ignored the silent admission and began the multi-floor trek. And with each new step, he selfishly prayed Janie was already asleep.
Gwen, who’d agreed to stay with her while he was out, hadn’t said much when he’d called earlier. Just that all was quiet, their client was holed up in her new room, and most importantly, Janie was safe. His teammate’s whispered question from that phone call replayed as he carried himself closer to his designated floor?—
What were you thinking, bringing her here, to your home?
Emmett knew exactly what he’d been thinking. This was his home turf, and it was familiar. He knew every inch of this building and watching over Janie here would be much easier than in that giant monstrosity of a mansion.
In hindsight, however, Gwen wasn’t the only one questioning the sanity of his decision. Because keeping his distance from the sexy journalist in his two-bedroom apartment was much more challenging than he’d expected.
And it was getting harder every day.
Speaking of hard . . .
He reached down and adjusted the half-swollen cock between his thighs. Inwardly cursing his own body—or rather, his lack of hormonal control—as he continued climbing the concrete stairs.
It was always like this. She didn’t even have to be in the same room. The accidental conjuring of her beautiful face was all it took, and just like that, his dick was instantaneously hard. And the more Emmett fought against it, the stronger his need for Janie seemed to grow.
