Page 75 of Play Pretend

“Yeah, baby. It’s me.”

I glanced behind him at the window, seeing red and blue lights soaring down the street. My gaze shifted to the bedroom door.

“No one’s out there,” he said, and my eyes snapped back to him.

“Yes.” I lifted my shaky hand and pointed at the place the man had been standing. “He was there. He wasrightthere.”

Ronan looked over his shoulder at the spot, his face twisting. “He’s gone now,” he murmured.

“He was there.”

It was all I could say. All I could think about.

“He wasthere,” I sobbed. Ronan reached for me again, and this time, I let him pull me to his chest. My hands tangled in his uniform shirt as he held me tightly. “He was there.He was there.I saw him. He could’ve—” The rest of the words wouldn’t come out. Because what could he have done? Anything. He could’ve raped me, hurt me, left me for dead.

Every scenario flashed through my mind. I wanted it to stop. I wanted it out.

I banged the heel of my palm against my temple, wanting to dislodge every image. “He was right there!” I cried, sounding hysterical.

Ronan’s hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me from hitting myself again. He rocked me gently back and forth, his arms never leaving.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His nose was buried in my hair, his lips pressed against my head. “You’re safe, baby. I’m here. I’m here.” I hadn’t realized I was still shaking, still sobbing.

A herd of footsteps thundered through the house, beams of light flitting around every corner. Men popped into the bedroom, and another scream erupted from me.

“It’s okay,” Ronan soothed. “I’m here. They’re just checking the place out.”

They left, but I could still hear them walking—I could still hearhimwalking.

“I was so scared,” I cried. Ronan’s arms tightened until I could barely breathe. “I called you.”

He tensed. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“I called you!” I pulled away from him. I felt the glare overtake my face. “I called you!”

The words wouldn’t stop. Theaccusationwouldn’t stop.

“You didn’t answer!” I was fully sobbing, my words nearly incoherent, but I knew he could understand me. I knew he heard me.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

When he looked at me again, his eyes were full of pain. There was something else in his gaze, though. Something haunted.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. A tear gathered on his dark lashes, and when he blinked, it fell down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” I sobbed, and the sound was so broken. “I was so scared.”

I threw myself at him again, needing to feel the safety of his arms wrapped around me. He buried his face in my neck, and I let myself sink into him.

“I needed you,” I whispered. “I wanted only you.”

His hold on me tightened again, like he was scared to let me go. “I’m here,” he said, but it was more of a promise. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

He was shaking. I was shaking. We were crying and clinging to each other like we’d be ripped apart at any moment.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that. But soon, someone came into the room. My eyes lifted to him, and the image of the other man standing in my doorway flashed through my mind. An involuntary whimper escaped me, and Ronan’s arms tightened. Roughly, the cop cleared his throat, but Ronan didn’t pull away.

“Boss? We need to talk to her?—”

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