“I am sorry.” When he didn’t reply, I went on, “Those men are dead because of me.”
“Those men are deadtonightbecause of you. They work for your brother and would have been killed one day.”
I tried to grapple with the reality that I was living in a world where punishment was death and tonight I had been responsible for the deaths of two men. Rett pulled the trigger but only because of me and my doing. “How many times can I apologize?”
Rett shook his head and with a deep breath, stood. The stress of the day and night showed in his handsome face. His features were more prominent, his brow more pronounced, his eyes darker, and his chin more defined. He was a statue of a man, one I’d disappointed and longed to help.
“Emma, apologies are superfluous. You’re saying you’re sorry to make yourself feel better. It’s time you faced the fact that we don’t live in a world where apologies hold power. This is the real world. This is your life now.
“You said not to treat you like a child and yet you continue to act like one. Children lack the understanding of cause and effect. They think that they can say the magic words, I’m sorry, and the world continues to spin. It’s a childish notion. Adults realize that apologies don’t right wrongs. That takes action.”
Rett resumed his seat on the side of the bed and lifted my chin with the soft grasp of his finger and thumb. “You can’t bring those men back, and if you could, you wouldn’t want that. Your apologies are wasted breath, a way to absolve yourself of your role in what happened. If you’re looking for forgiveness, I can’t and won’t grant it.”
Tears blurred my vision of Rett’s stern expression. “What can I do?”
“Life is a ruthless teacher. Today I hope you learned something.”
I nodded in his grasp. “I did.”
I had learned more than one thing. I’d learned I was safest here with the man I didn’t really know, but the more I learned about him, the more I wanted to know. I also learned that the dangers Everett Ramses warned me about were real. I’d been forced to recognize that the life I’d once had was gone. Rett was right: this was now my life. “I don’t like all I’ve learned,” I said honestly, “but I have learned.”
“Then stop apologizing and concentrate on not repeating poor decision making.”
My head and heart ached. My body was tender and sore. I may not be able to change the past, but in this moment, I wanted to think about anything else.
Sighing, I again took in the unfamiliar setting. We weren’t in my suite. “Where are we?”
Compared to the suite where I’d been staying, this one was...grander. It was hard to pinpoint the differences. The floral pattern was gone, replaced by feminine decor in shades of creams and golds. Things looked newer and still splendid. Peering up and around, I scanned the tall golden walls, took in the craftsmanship of the white trim, and noticed the luxurious fabrics. The artwork on the walls hung in heavy frames. Under the area rug was a gleaming wood floor.
My gaze went toward the windows and my heart leapt. Though the sun had set, there were no closed shutters. I could see beyond the panes to lights coming from a story below.
“The windows aren’t blocked,” I said.
The large bed and bedside stand seemed to be the only real pieces of bedroom furniture. Much like the library where I’d been, one wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with more books. On the opposite side of the room with its own area rug was a fireplace, currently unlit, and a sofa with small tables and chairs.
In one of the corners near the windows was a slightly larger table, round, with drop leaves and two chairs. A grin came to my lips as I noticed Rett’s standard single red rose in a silver vase. Around the perimeter of the room were multiple doors—all closed.
While I’d been looking around, Rett had been closely examining my wrists and ankles.
“Ouch.”
His dark stare moved from the injuries to my eyes. I tucked my lip between my teeth.
Rett’s expression—clenched jaw, furrowed brow, and tightening muscles—displayed his mood more accurately than his touch.
Without a word, he reached for my chin and turned my face from side to side. “I fucking meant it. I shouldn’t have killed those bastards. Their demise was too easy.”
I reached for Rett’s hand, intertwining our fingers.
As I did, I noticed the dirt under my ragged nails and the dried blood around my wrist. Upon my arm were the red dots he’d referred to earlier. Ignoring the queasiness that the sights conjured in my stomach, I looked up at Rett as tears swelled upon my lids. “I know you said it doesn’t help, and you’re right. But I am sorry. I don’t think I believed you. I didn’t think that the danger you’d warned me about was real.” Before he could speak, I went on. “I was more focused on getting away. My plan was to call Ross. And then I could go back to being me.”
“You are you, Emma. I haven’t asked you to be anyone else.”
“You have, and I don’t...” My head moved from side to side. Now wasn’t the time to discuss what I thought he wanted from me. “If you’re okay with me being me, don’t lock me away.”
Rett stood. This time, he paced away from the bed toward the windows and back. With his shirt still missing, I watched the muscles in his toned torso tighten and his neck straighten. His bicep bulged as he ran his hand over his face. When he spun back toward me, I saw the exhaustion in his dark stare. He lifted his hand toward me. “Look what happened to you.” His volume rose. “Don’t you get it? I’m not locking you away. I am trying to keep you safe.”
The tears that had teetered on my lids now cascaded down my cheeks. No matter how fast I swallowed, I couldn’t rein them in. “I get it.” I laid my head back, groaning as my temples throbbed. “I get it.” The tears burned my eyes as I stared up, not focusing on the ornate woodwork. Turning to Rett, I asked, “Why?”