Page 77 of Rogue Voice

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Bea asked, her face glowing as she looked out from one of the city’s emblematic bridges. Below them, the water shimmered with the colors of the sunset.

“Beautiful,” he agreed. She didn’t have to know if wasn’t the sunset he was referring to. “What’s wrong, Bea?” he asked,hating the sad, almost haunted look in her beautiful eyes. Bea took a deep breath before replying.

“I should feel sad that my uncle is dead, but I don’t feel anything.”

Rogue sighed. He’d known this was coming. He hadn’t wanted to rush her, because this was something she needed to come to terms with on her own, but he couldn’t stay silent now that she was bringing it up.

“Whatever you feel is right, Bea. Me? I’m fucking celebrating the bastard’s death,” he growled. Rogue would have hated the man anyway, for his role in bringing drugs into the hands of innocent people. Children, even. But the way he’d treated Bea … what he’d attempted to do … it was more than Rogue could stomach.

“I wish I could mourn him,” she said. “Because he was family. Because I remember him as a young man, when his entire future was unwritten. I know he could have become anything and maybe my father had a lot to do with what he ended up becoming.”

Bea was a much better person than he was. Not that he’d needed confirmation. Here she was, worrying herself silly about the dead man, when Rogue’s only regret was that he’d made the man’s death too easy.

“Your father,” Rogue reminded her gently. “Not you. You didn’t do any of this.”

She nodded. “I know. But I keep having to tell myself that.”

“Then keep telling yourself that, honey. And if you need to hear it from someone else, you call me, day or night. As many times as you need to hear it.” And he would. Even when she left—and fuck it, she was going to leave him and he would stand by and let her go because it was the right thing to do, regardless of how much it hurt—even then, he would make fucking sure she knew how to reach him, if she ever needed him.

He’d been hoping to make her smile, but her eyes turned even sadder.

Fuck.

Making her sad was the last thing he wanted. Hehadto let her know everything was going to be okay.

“The doctors say Thorne’s ready to travel,” he said. “We’re flying back to Zurich tomorrow.”

“I know. He called me earlier. The government has confiscated all of my uncle’s accounts, but Thorne managed to set aside a small amount for me to be able to study.”

Rogue nodded. He already knew about this and knew also that Thorne and Agent Rahmer had used every trick in the book to secure this money for Bea.

“Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, I will help you, Bea,” Rogue said, keeping his eyes on the water beneath them so she wouldn’t see how much it was costing him to say this. “You still want to go to university?”

“I do,” she said, after a long silence. “More than ever, I want to become a social worker.”

Rogue nodded. Of course she did. “How can I help?” he asked, gripping the railing tighter.

Hewouldhelp her, no matter what it cost him. Even though his heart was breaking at the thought of her leaving. She had a plan, she had a life ahead of her and he would fucking well help her.

Bea placed her small hand on his larger one. “You can let me stay with you,” she said, “until I know if the University of Zurich has accepted my application.”

Rogue wondered if he’d heard correctly. “You’ve applied to the University of Zurich?”

Bea nodded. A small smile played on her lips. “Dark and Slate helped me pull everything together these last few days.”

Rogue’s heart hammered against his ribcage. Hope soared inside him. He didn’t have to give her up. They could be together in Zurich. He would take care of her and they would—No. You don’t have anything to offer her.You need to let her go and give her the chance to find something better. Someone better. More deserving. Less damaged.

“No. You can’t come to Zurich with me,” he said, his voice a strangled growl.

Bea’s smile froze on her face. “Why not?”

Rogue swallowed through what felt like sticks in his throat.

“You know why.”

“Don’t you want me there?”

“Dammit, Bea. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what makes the most sense for you. It’s about your life. I can’t be responsible for keeping you caged.”

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