Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Rosa’s gaze flits to my hand. I was holding it near Emma, not quite touching her but close enough to touch her anytime I wanted a moment of comfort, skin-on-skin contact to let her know she never has to worry. She never has to question, not when we’re together. Not when I’m protecting her.
“Why did the alarm go off? Why are the men rushing around everywhere?”
Rosa folds her arms, looking at me and then at Emma. The sadness in her eyes threatens to break my heart, the sense of betrayal as if she somehow already knows. It must be what Emma said, her reaction in the car giving our relationship away.
“Emma?” Rosa says when neither of us responds. “What’s wrong?”
Rosa approaches with her hands raised, but it’s also like she’s ready to recoil at any moment. I sense she’s on the verge of turning away, marching back up the stairs, and getting as far away from us as possible.
“I… I ran,” Emma murmurs. “The Russians were waiting in the forest. They ambushed me. They would’ve killed me if your dad and uncle didn’t save me.”
“Where’s Dario now?” Rosa asks, looking at me.
“With the survivor.”
Only one of them made it out alive. Dario killed one in his initial attack, and then I picked up my pistol and executed the other. Death is a part of this life, especially for scumbags who have no problem threatening women.
“Why did you run?” Rosa says, taking Emma’s hands.
My woman looks so shellshocked that I almost snap at Rosa to stop questioning her. That’s how deranged this situation is. It’s almost got me snapping at my daughter.
“G-guilt,” Emma whispers, choking back a sob.
Rosa turns to me, eyes narrowed. “I think we all need to have a conversation, right?”
“Emma’s been through a lot, Rosa,” I say. “She’s had a gun pressed against her head. She thought she was going to die. She needs some time t—”
“No.” Emma stands up straighter as if readying herself. “I don’t need any time. Rosa deserves to…” She trails off, looking at Rosa. “You deserve to know the truth.”
“I think I already know,” Rosa whispers.
Then she turns and walks through the house.
Emma and I exchange a look. It takes all the effort I can summon not to brush her brown hair from her face, take her hand, share some of her anxiety, or hold some of it for her. We walk into one of the living rooms. Rosa sits in the large armchair, leaving the couch for Emma and me. We sit side by side, without touching.
If our legs brushed, that small preview would trigger more hunger in me. Not just lust hunger or baby hunger—the hunger to be there for her, hold her, cherish, and protect her till death do us part.
“When?” Rosa says.
“When… what?” Emma replies.
Rosa huffs and tilts her head. “Let’s cut the crap. Earlier, when Dad was…” She stops, shudders, and forces the word out. “Shot. I saw how you reacted, Emma. It was like the love of your life had just been shot in front of you. I thought I had an idea about love, a little bit with Matvei, even if he turned out to be a liar, but this was different. This was real. It seemed that way, anyway. So when did it start? I deserve to know.”
Emma is shuddering beside me, fighting off tears. I clench my fists against my knees, the rage still jolting through me. The memory of the bullet slamming into the rifleman’s head as he aimed his weapon, not at me or Dario as he ran from the forest. No, the prick was going to aim it at Emma and threaten her again. Pulling a trigger had never been so easy.
“When she arrived at our house,” I tell Rosa.
“That was, what, a week ago, if that? That was days ago.” Rosa glares. “If we’re going to talk about this, I think we should at least be honest.”
“It’s the truth,” Emma says, wiping her cheek. “I didn’t plan any of this. I… I won’t lie, okay? I was attracted to Leo but never dreamed anything would happen.”
“So he made the first move, then?” Rosa says.
Emma winces and glances at me. She wants to protect me like I’ll always protect her.
“Yes,” I reply, answering for her. “I tried to fight it, but she’s too…”
Careful.
The last thing Rosa needs is for me to go into detail about all the feelings her best friend provokes in me.
“Perfect. She’s beautiful. Funny. Smart. Sarcastic. Kind. She’s everything I want in a wom—”
“Mom was beautiful. Funny. Smart. Sarcastic. And kind.” Rosa blinks, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I don’t get it. When you saw him get shot, Emma, your reaction was like a wife watching her husband get shot. It was like you’d been together for years.”
“That’s because it feels like we have,” Emma whispers. “I can’t explain it. It’s like a fairy tale. I mean, the feelings, how quick, how sure I am. I just wish he wasn’t your dad. That’s the only part that isn’t perfect. It’s the only part that messes this whole thing up.”