8. Chapter Eight #2
The comparison had gutted me. After everything I'd done to protect her, to make her feel safe—to have her look at me and see any similarity to the men who'd abducted and terrorized her...
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Gideon observed from the doorway.
I whirled around to face him, my hands clenched into fists. "She's out there alone, Gideon. With a target on her back and no protection. We don’t have ears in there."
"We have three of our guys monitoring both building exits," Gideon replied calmly, stepping into the room. "And we have eyes on her apartment floor."
"What if that's not enough?" I growled, turning back to the monitors. "Rice's people could get lucky. Take her from her apartment just as easily as they tried to take her from that parking lot."
Gideon moved to stand beside me, his expression thoughtful as he studied the feeds. "You want to talk about what really happened back there?"
"She made her position clear," I said through gritted teeth. "She doesn't want my help."
"Bullshit." Gideon's blunt assessment made me look at him in surprise. "A terrified woman lashed out when she felt cornered. That's what happened."
I shook my head. "You didn't see her face when she said it. She meant every word."
"Did she?" Gideon asked. "Because from what Walker told me, she was clutching that bear from your playroom when she left. Doesn't sound like someone who meant what she said."
My heart stuttered at that information. She'd taken Barnaby with her. The thought of Emily holding onto that connection, even while running away, made something tight in my chest loosen slightly.
"It doesn't matter," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I crossed a line going through her files. She was right to be angry."
"I’d have done the same," Gideon shrugged. "But that's not why she ran, and you know it."
I turned away from the monitors, unable to watch anymore. "Then why?"
"Because she's never had anyone care about her the way you do. Because letting herself be vulnerable with you terrifies her more than facing down human traffickers." Gideon's voice was gentle but firm. "Because she's spent her entire life believing she has to handle everything alone."
"She told me I was no better than the men who abducted her," I said quietly, the words still like shards of glass in my throat.
Gideon winced. "That was a low blow. But people say cruel things when they're scared."
"What if she's right, though?" The question had been eating at me since she'd left. "What if I am too controlling? Too protective? What if I'm just another man trying to make decisions for her?"
"Are you?" Gideon asked pointedly.
I considered the question seriously. "I think she might need someone not as..."
"Dominant?" Gideon arched a brow, because we both knew that was what I was.
“Sneaky?” Walker said as he walked in.
We both looked blankly at him. “So, don’t kill me,” he said.
Every hair on the back of my neck stood up. “What did you do?”
“I hid a microphone above her bookshelves when I went for the lockbox.” He held his hands up like I was going to attack him. “Audio only, and only the main room, not her bedroom or bathroom, but in case anyone came snooping.”
Shit. She was going to kill me.
“Her mother has just arrived,” Eric said. Walker strode over to Eric’s computer and pressed some keys, connecting the microphone. In a moment, Emily’s mom came through loud and clear.
"...your father's practice can't afford any scandal, and frankly, neither can you. A woman your age, unmarried, in a job that already raises eyebrows..."
I listened to the cold, cutting tone of Emily's mother through the speakers, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. Every word was like a blade designed to slice away at Emily's confidence, her sense of self-worth.
"Jesus Christ," Gideon muttered under his breath. "No wonder she has trust issues."
"What are you implying, Mother?" Emily's voice came through, small and defensive.
"I'm not implying anything, dear. I'm simply saying that when one's professional conduct comes into question, it's wise to be extra careful about one's personal conduct as well. You know how quickly rumors spread in our circles."
The threat in the woman's voice was unmistakable, and I felt my protective instincts surge to dangerous levels. This was Emily's own mother, the person who should have been supporting her, defending her, and instead she was delivering veiled threats about reputation and scandal.
"Do think about the position at your father's firm. It really would solve so many problems."
The audio went quiet for a moment, then we heard a door closing. I waited, my heart hammering in my chest, for Emily's reaction. When it came, it nearly broke me.
The sound of her sobbing—deep, wrenching cries that spoke of years of accumulated pain—filled the room. I'd heard grown men cry in combat, had witnessed the aftermath of unspeakable trauma, but nothing had ever affected me quite like the sound of Emily's tears.
"Turn it off," I said roughly.
Eric reached for the controls, but I caught his wrist. "No, wait. Leave it." I needed to hear this, needed to understand what she was going through. Even if it killed me.
The crying continued for several minutes before gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Then, so softly I had to strain to hear it: "I'm sorry, Dion. I'm so sorry."
My knees nearly buckled. She was alone in her apartment, clutching that bear, apologizing to me through her tears. The woman who'd spent her entire life being strong for everyone else was finally allowing herself to break down—and she was doing it alone.
"That's it," I said, heading for the door. "I'm going over there."
"Dion, wait," Gideon called, but I was already moving.
"She needs me," I said without stopping. "I don't give a damn what she said earlier. She needs me, and I'm not leaving her alone."
Walker stepped into my path, his expression sympathetic but firm. "She'll see the recording as another violation of her trust."
"Then I'll deal with the consequences," I replied, trying to move around him. "But I'm not standing around with my thumb up my ass while she needs—”
"What she needs," Eric said without looking up from his computers, "is for you to stop wallowing and start thinking strategically. Because we've got a problem."
"What kind of problem?" I demanded, moving to look over Eric's shoulder.
“Her mother made a call to her husband at work as soon as she left Emily’s.
I can’t find out what was said, but as soon as that was finished, Emily’s father made a call to an unknown number.
Moments after that, we caught a call Richard Kline made to someone whose number traces back to Oak Developments. "
My heart stopped. "Emily. It has to be about Emily."
"They could be getting ready to disappear her," Gideon agreed. "Make it look like she had a breakdown and ran off. With her mother already planting seeds about her being unstable, it would be believable."
I was already moving toward the door. "I'm going to get her."
"I'm coming with you," Walker said.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Emily's apartment door, Walker beside me, my heart hammering against my ribs. I could hear movement inside—the faint sound of the TV. We knew she was still there because of our surveillance but I didn't have any idea if I was welcome.
I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated. What if she refused to see me? What if she told me to leave and never come back?
Walker seemed to sense my hesitation. "She needs to know," he said, and I knocked. I barely breathed and I lifted my hand to knock again just as the door opened, and I took in her ravaged face.
"I shouldn't have gone through your files without permission," I blurted out. "That was very wrong of me. It was a huge violation of trust."
Emily stared at me, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, but seeming unsurprised to find me at her door. I hoped that meant she’d looked through the peep hole before she opened her door.
"Dion," she whispered. "What are you doing here?"
"There's more," I continued, needing to get everything out before she could shut the door in my face. “But we need to come in.”
Thankfully, she must have heard the urgency in my voice, so she stepped back, and we went inside, closing the door. "We—I—had Walker plant a microphone in your living room after he left with the lockbox."
Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. "You what ?"
“No, he didn’t,” Walker said immediately. “That was all me this time. It was just audio and only the main room. Dion only found out when I told him thirty minutes ago.”
Emily gaped at both of us. “You’re as bad as each other.”
"We heard your mother," I admitted. "What she said." I wanted to add more but not until we were alone.
Emily looked like I'd slapped her, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "That's... that's an incredible invasion of privacy."
"I know," I said, not trying to justify it. "And I'm sorry. But Emily, we have reason to believe you're in immediate danger."
She blinked, confusion momentarily overriding her anger. "What do you mean?"
Walker stepped forward. "Your mother called your father after leaving here. We're pretty sure your father then called Richard Kline, who immediately contacted someone at Oak Developments."
"Oh My God," Emily whispered, the color draining from her face, and she bent and picked up Barnaby.
I nodded grimly. "We think they're planning to make you disappear."
Emily's grip on Barnaby tightened as she processed this. "My own parents?" Her voice was small, disbelieving.
"They probably don't understand what they're setting in motion," I lied, hoping it was true. "But they've put you in danger either way."
She stood frozen in the kitchen, clearly torn between her anger at our methods and the very real threat we were describing.
"I understand if you never want to see me again after this," I said quietly. "But please, Emily—come with us now. Let us keep you safe."
Emily looked down at Barnaby, then back up at me. Something in her expression shifted, a decision being made.
"I said terrible things to you," she said, her voice barely audible. "Things I didn't mean."
"I deserved them," I replied, relief flooding through me. "And I did terrible things to you. Going through your files. Invading your privacy."
"To protect me," she said softly.
"Yes. I regret upsetting you, but I will always put your safety first." Even if you hate me.
Emily took a deep breath, then stepped away from the couch. "I haven't even unpacked what Walker brought me, but I need to check it."
Emily went into her bedroom while I scanned the apartment, my mind racing through contingency plans. “Make sure you pack for a few days,” I said, knowing I wanted her to stay forever, but also knowing she’d bolt if I gave her the slightest reason.
"We have a car waiting downstairs," Walker informed her, then turned and left.
I desperately wanted to follow her into her bedroom, but I managed to stay where I was.
Just.