The distinguishable pop of a gunshot sounds, and then Emma’s screams spring me into action. I’m sure the guys are almost here, so if anything happens to me they’ll ensure her safety, but I won’t fuck this up again.
I run into the room in time to see Emma hovering over Aaron Bishop’s body- blood leaking profusely onto the floor, but I don’t have time to examine how deadly his wound is. My head snaps up in time to see the back of a blonde-haired woman in a navy suit attempting to slip through a door in the wall.
I aim my gun and fire three rounds. “For fuck’s sake,” she screams, grabbing her shoulder but not stopping just as the door in the wall closes behind her, preventing me from shooting again.
“Dad. Dad, no, Dad, please. Please, please, please,” Emma’s gut-wrenching cries fill the room.
I turn, racing to her. The sounds she’s making are cracking something inside of me. The pain in each of her screams assaults the barrier around my heart. No one should feel that level of hurt- her sobs catapult me back to the helplessness I felt for Karl.
“Let me take a look.” I’m gentle with my approach, touching her shoulder lightly.
Her gaze whips in my direction, her face covered in spatters of blood and dirt.
“Liam, where the fuck are you?” I hear August growl in my earpiece.
“Go down the hall you saw me take off down and take a left when you get to the end. We’re at the end of that hall. She’s in here, Wy. She needs you,” I state as I survey Aaron’s body to see where he’s been shot.
“I’m fine,” Aaron coughs. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be okay,” he says, but he has to know there’s internal damage from the injuries he sustained. I know he’s trying to alleviate her worry, but he shouldn’t downplay it.
“You were shot,” she shouts back.
“She has terrible aim,” he jokes, attempting a laugh but the jolt to his shoulder makes his bearded face grimace.
Crunching boots and shouts sound as the guys enter the room.
“Riri,” August gasps, rushing to her, but I stop him.
“Not yet, Wy. We need to make sure her dad’s okay first.”
Emma’s steel eyes soften, grateful for my help.
She should hate me. I left her. Instead, she’s thanking me. I’ve done nothing but be an ass to her, and she’s thanking me.
“I got it from here. Get her checked out by the table, and let me look at her dad.” Thomas’s hulking frame lowers to the ground taking control of the situation.
I don’t know if she means for anyone to see it, but Emma’s body stiffens at the mention of the examination table. The hairs on the back of my neck stand. My eyes make a quick survey of the room. A woman lies dead on the floor, a knife sticking through her throat. I peer back at the man being treated on the floor, remembering the body parts littering the hallway.
Did one man do all of that? Something to examine later. Right now, I need to know what has Emma shaking at the thought of being on that table.
What happened to her in here?
I want to ask, but I already know something horrible happened, and she’ll talk only when and if she’s ready.
“Hey,” I start, holding out my hand to help her up, “let’s go outside. I’m sure someone can check you over out there.”
She nods, beginning to take my hand, hesitating only long enough for her dad to nod for her to go.
“I’ll be alright, Ry. I told you, your hag of mom was a terrible shot,” he assures her.
Standing to her feet, her shoulders pull back, her posture straightens- steeling her spine, she gazes down at her father as she exclaims, “My mother’s dead.” Without another word, she turns and walks as if on autopilot for the door.
I take a moment to watch the goddess level of strength she exudes, walking from whatever hell she experienced with her head held high.
Emma Bishop isn’t a problem. She isn’t a distraction or a weakness.
She’s the fucking truth.
“Close your mouth, Liamon. You’re drooling,” Sebastian mocks.
Clearing my throat, I deny his accurate assessment, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sebastian snorts, clapping me on my shoulder, “Sure, man. Just go make sure she’s okay.” Then his face turns serious, “Until we know exactly what, she shouldn’t be alone.”
I shake my head, “Wy or O should be the ones to be with her.”
“They will be, but there’s no limit on who can support her. Go,” he commands.
Sensing my hesitation, he pushes me in the direction Emma just went, and my feet move before my brain can object.
I go over all of the instances I doubted her- all of the times I gave August and Karl shit for letting some girl mess with their minds, accusing them of not having their heads in the game.
Fuck. I got this one all wrong.
EMMA
My mind keeps playing the last five days on a loop. That’s how long I’ve been gone.
Almost a goddamn week.
I sit in the open back of the SUV as some doctor checks my vitals. She’s nice enough, but I’m less focused on her bedside manner. All I see is water being poured in my face, Sam being assaulted, and my dad being shot.
My dad.
I can’t believe the man covered in blood was him. He looked disheveled like someone left out in the Alaskan wilderness to fend for themselves.
His usually cropped short hair was a tangled mess, his bearded face paler than his typically clean-shaven alabaster complexion, making his freckled cheeks more pronounced. He looked like he’d lost ten pounds and some muscle.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.