Page 81 of Owning Emma

My body leaned forward slightly, my height a good few inches more than his, not that it mattered. A throat cleared and I looked over toward Eric. “Um, Krank is tied up. It appears everyone else is gone.”

“That’s a fucking shame,” Troy said from the doorway. “I wanted to have more fun.”

Jesus. How much fun could one man have? There was something seriously wrong with this guy. Seriously wrong.

Roman stepped back. “Maybe next time.”

“Eh, well.” He lifted his shoulders slightly, “Clean-up crew is on the way. I don’t think anyone was close enough to us to hear the silencer on my gun, and things seemed pretty muffled on the outside. But just in case, you should probably make yourselves scarce.” He pushed Emma forward, gently but firm. “Oh, and I brought you something.”

She looked between us, both terror and relief on her face. “Is this over? The threats, I mean?”

Roman looked down at the body at our feet, kicking it lightly. “Yeah. You’re safe now.”

Always.

I wanted to tell her she would always be safe. That no harm would ever come to her again in her whole fucking life, but I couldn’t bring forth the right words. Nothing, there was nothing I could say that would be sufficient enough to express how I was feeling.

I took a step forward, then another until my feet carried me right in front of Emma and within seconds she was in my arms, her small body crushed against my own. I lifted her, carrying her to the counter and putting her on top, checking her over, needing to see for myself that she was a hundred percent unharmed. That she was okay. That she was here with me. I ran my palms up her sides, over her thighs, down her arms and when I reached the raw chaffed skin on her wrists, I couldn’t help but bring them up to my lips and lay gentle kisses against the sensitive skin.

She leaned into my body, wrapping her hands around my waist. “You saved us, you know.”

She whispered her words against my chest, and I nearly crumbled at hearing them. “It was close. So fucking close. I never should have left you.”

“And where would that have landed you?” she retorted.

She tried to pull back and look around my body and I stopped her. “No. You don’t need to look at that mess.”

“But my fath . . . “

“Is fine,” I cut off, knowing that he locked himself in the closet the moment his guard hit the ground and he was free to scurry away. “I’m taking you home.”

I’d let Roman deal with this shit show, I for one needed out. I picked her up again, and her legs instantly wrapped around my waist, tightening her body around mine before her arms looped around my neck. She didn’t argue, or struggle, or pretend that what I suggested was the last thing she wanted or needed. Instead, she buried her face in my neck, and we walked out the door.

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