Page 78 of Owning Emma

Chapter 39

EMMA

Roman wasn’t doing sohot and no matter how much I begged with muffled noises and pleas through the gag, he wouldn’t bend to them. He wouldn’t show signs of defeat and for that, I knew he was stronger than all of us. Stronger than both of them together. He got in a few halfhearted blows, but I knew he had more in him. I knew he could do better, but I was confused why he didn’t. Why wasn’t he trying? Why wasn’t he really fighting?

Roman was on his knees, his body swaying, and I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t strike back. Blood dribbled down his temple, his nose, a cut in his lip and still . . . he did nothing. Even as they called him weak, giving him threats, he took every insult, letting it roll off his body as if the words were never spoken.

He spit out a mouthful of blood and saliva, landing it on Krank’s chest, egging on his anger and I tried to scream for them to stop as another blow hit his temple, but muffled voice made no sense and no one spared me a glance.

No one spared me a glance . . .

I watched as Roman’s eyes fell to the clock again. A motion I had noticed him repeat a few times. The glance was subtle. Only caught by me, but it was there. He had a plan . . . and I could only hope whatever it was happened fast because I couldn’t take watching this anymore. There was blood everywhere. Spatters and drips of it all over my floor, and if I braved a look for too long, my stomach would pitch and I had to fight the gagging feeling.

My father sat back in a corner, looking like a coward as he made no move. He took no punches. He made little effort to protect anyone but himself as a single man stood in front of him, his back to my father like he knew he wasn’t a threat.

And Roman took the hits for all of us.

I watched his body vibrate with each kick to the gut, heard the air around us fill with the sound of knuckles hitting his skin, listened to the rhythmic drip of his blood dripping onto the cement, and he was doing this for us. For my father. For me.

How long had it been? Twenty minutes? And Hour? Two?

I had been fooling myself before when I thought I could work for these rough men and not fall harder than I’d fallen for anything in my life. If we made it out of this, and that was a big if, I would never love anything or anyone in my entire life, like I’d loved these two rough-around-the-edges, powerful, dominating, men.

Because it was true. I loved him. I loved them. And even as I sat powerless to stop what had started, helpless in forcing Roman to stop his goading to bring the attention away from me and to himself, I couldn’t help but think it. My mind was screaming those words, begging him to hear them, just in case this was our last hour together. Our last minutes. Our last moments.

He needed to know.

Krank pulled the gun from his back pocket and Jack followed his lead, taking a knife and pulling Roman’s forehead back, forcing his neck to arch as he put the blade against his skin. A new trail of blood slowly flowed down Roman’s tanned skin and disappeared under his once white shirt.

I screamed the words through my gag, I LOVE YOU, but he didn’t hear them. He didn’t look. His attention was entirely on Krank, who trailed the barrel of his gun over Roman’s cheek and down the side of his neck. Roman was holding his breath, afraid to breathe, and I was I was holding mine with him. One wrong move with a knife to your throat could be fatal. One wrong move with a gun touching your skin could be equally dangerous.

“This wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be,” Krank admitted. “I always thought you to be a spirted fighter. Turns out without your big ox next to you, you’re a bit anticlimactic.”

Roman just shrugged. I knew for a fact there was nothing about the man that was anticlimactic. He was no better than Shaw, and Shaw was no better than him. They were two people with equally fierce desires and traits, and when Roman decided to show it, I knew Krank would pay.

There was a scuffle by the front door, a sound that caused both Krank and Jack to pause until Shaw came into view, his hands held up in surrender as one of Krank’s men pushed a gun into his back. His eyes fell instantly upon me and his shoulders relaxed before his gaze traveled to Roman. Their eyes locked, speaking a secret conversation that even after months with them, I was never privy too.

Krank made a tsking sound, “Well, well. Speaking of the ox. So nice of you to join us.”

“The pleasure is all mine, really.” The gun went further into Shaw’s back, causing him to stumble forward until he was standing directly next to Roman. His jaw twitched slightly, and I knew he was fighting the urge to touch him, to make sure his injuries were superficial and non-threatening, but he held his hands in the air.

“It seems your boss is nothing without you by his side.” Shaw smirked, and I knew he was thinking the same thing as I was, despite it being the wrong place, the wrong time. “He has no fight in him.”

“Is that so?” Shaw added, “Because it seems to me like maybe you’ve misjudged.”

Krank kicked Roman in the stomach, and Roman’s hands flexed at his side. Calculated. Timed. They had a plan. I knew it now, and there was no way Krank was going to make it out. Krank waved his gun around. “Misjudged? Misjudged how weak he was? Hardly lifting a finger, no will to fight back? Doubtful.”

“Misjudged that allowing you to think you were winning, only bought him time for a plan B,” Shaw said.

Krank shook his head. “Plan B? All he had left was you, and look where you are. Everyone else left town for the holidays. Jack confirmed it. We were coming for you next, but it was nice of you to stop by, save us the trip out to your . . . I mean, my compound.”

Both Roman and Shaw snorted in unison at his bold declaration of ownership. Then Shaw lowered his hands. “Did everyone leave, though?”

Somehow, without me knowing it, someone had crept behind me, sliding behind where my chair now sat just outside of the pantry, and a hand covered my mouth. “Shhh. I’m going to remove the gag and cut the ropes. I’ve got you Emma. Just don’t make a sound.” Eric reached up, removing the cotton from my mouth before he deftly cut through the room. I felt the release of my wrists almost instantly. “Stay behind, and when I say move, move.”

Shaw’s eyes briefly went to my own, checking me over while Krank looked at Jack, taking his eyes off Roman and Shaw long enough to miss the second when Shaw kicked back, pushing the man with the gun into the table, catching Jack off guard, and causing him to stumble. The man who Krank thought was too weak to do much seconds earlier rose halfway off the floor, using his shoulders to jam into Krank’s stomach until he was forced against the wall.

Out of nowhere, a shot rang out, my eyes instantly going to my men, fearing Krank or Jack might have fired, but instead, the man who was guarding my father jolted before his body crumbled to the floor.

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