“Yeah. I’m assuming. And I’m hoping that when they figure it out, they’ll use her as a bargaining chip instead of getting rid of her and coming for you again. They’ve messed up twice. They’ll be braced for retaliation this time.”
Retaliation. I looked at the clothes I had shredded from him earlier. He’d been dressed to blend in with the night and do his vengeance. People were going to die—people already had—and there was going to be so much more. I was terrified of what else was going to happen, but the war was here. I was involved. I wasn’t going to hide this time.
“What about the police?” I asked.
“What about them?”
“Should we report her missing? Or has that already been done?” Another question came to the tip of my tongue, but at the tightening around his mouth, I held it back. “What?”
“If the police are involved, that means questioning. That means hours spent being interrogated. That means they’ll watch us. That means we can’t do what we need to do.”
“So no one knows? Your men, Carter.”
“My men will be traced to me, yes, but it’ll take them a while. None of them are in the system. They weren’t allowed to hold any identification, and anything they did have on them, guns included, will be traced back to a shell company. Eventually they’ll get employee records and go to the families, which will have them looking for me, but that’ll be then. Not now. I’m hoping to be able to deal with this quickly, then go and tell the families myself.”
“If you can’t? If the police get there first?”
“Then I’ll apologize to them for that injustice as well. I can’t leave this war, not yet.”
“I know,” I told him.
His hand slid back down the side of my face, and I leaned into his touch, moving so I could kiss the palm of his hand.
“I want to help,” I said.
He pulled his hand away and sat up.
The distance those words created between us was frightening. I sat up as well, holding his gaze. The sheet fell away from me, but I didn’t care. I had to be firm. I had to sound strong. He couldn’t see any shadow of doubt in my eyes.
“I mean it,” I added.
“No.”
“Carter—”
He stood and reached for his pants. “No.”
“Carter—”
“No.” He zipped them and reached for his shirt.
I watched as he finished getting dressed. He was putting on some shoes when I tried again. “Carter—”
“I just got you back.” He whipped back to face me, his eyes seething. “A bomb, Emma. A bomb, then this car. They were trying for you. If your sister hadn’t been there, they would’ve found you. They would’ve looked for you, and the first place they would’ve searched would’ve been underneath the big bodyguard. I am sorry your sister was taken. I will get her back, but if she hadn’t been there? You. It would’ve been you.” He gritted his teeth as he finished, and his shoulders were tense, so rigid. “I would already have a body count in the thirties by now, if it had been you. Heaven and hell. That’s where I would go for you. So, no, you cannot help.”
Going to the dresser, he pulled out a 9mm and stuck it into a shoulder holster. He reached back inside and paused, and a moment later he pulled out another handgun. Meeting my eyes, his harried and haunted, he placed the gun onto the edge of the bed.
“I’m not a fan of Theresa, but right now, I could hug her,” he said quietly. “You know how to use this.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.
“This is your friend. You wear this everywhere. You get so used to it that you feel naked without it. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He paused, studying everything about me. He was testing me. A year ago, I would’ve been scared. Now, I was just wary. “I’m fine, Carter.”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me.