Carter Reed 2

I let out a burst of air. How could I make things right in this short amount of time? I wrung my hands together. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I can’t be around you guys. My life with Carter is going to affect you, and to be honest, if I hadn’t been with my sister, I would’ve been with you guys that night she was taken. Something could’ve happened to you.”

My chest felt so tight. “And Amanda, I can’t put you in the middle. You’re in love and happy, and there are going to be secrets. I can’t talk to you anymore because if I let the wrong thing slip, then it’s on you. You have to keep a secret from your guy, and what happens when you get married?”

Her eyes got big. “What?”

Brian’s head poked out from behind Theresa, and he made a slicing motion.

Shit. “Uh…”

“What did you say?”

“I meant if you get married. What then? He’s your family. I’m not and—”

“Whatever.” Theresa rolled her eyes and opened her arms. “Get your ass over here. We know why you left. We’re not dumb, but don’t do it again.”

“What?”

“Ever,” Amanda piped in.

Were they serious? “It’s that easy? No pitchforks?”

Theresa waved her arms, beckoning for me again. “Come on. We’re not complete assholes. We know why you left. Brian—cop. Carter—not. We get it. We even understand, but you’re family. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

More misting in my eyes. I blew out a breath and tried to fan myself. No more tears. I was so tired of crying.

“Emma,” Michael murmured behind me.

It was time to go. Again.

Theresa and Amanda didn’t argue. They understood his cue and came forward. All three of us stood there a moment, hugging each other.

“I love you guys,” I told them as our heads bent together.

Theresa sniffled. “I’m a blubbering idiot half the time I’ve been in New York. It’s your fault. I’m always worrying about you, and now crying because of this. I love you. We all love you.”

“Yeah.” Amanda had tears on her face. “No more leaving like that. Go and get whatever you need to finished, and then come back home. Okay?”

“We’ll make it work. Somehow,” I repeated.

“Somehow.” Amanda affirmed, wiping my tears from my face. “We lost one sister. I don’t want to lose another.”

I closed my eyes for a second and thought of Mallory. It was time to go. I could almost feel Michael’s insistence behind me. But I didn’t want to let them go.

“Okay. Enough of this gooey, girly blubbering we’re doing,” Theresa huffed and pulled from the hug.

But as Amanda stepped back, Theresa wrapped her arms around me again. “Go kick some ass, then come back,” she whispered in my ear. “We know you have to do what you have to do.”

“I will,” I promised, giving her one more squeeze.

“Be safe,” Amanda said.

“I will,” I told her.

As I pulled away, Michael had already started down the hallway. He held open the back stairwell door, and I gave the group a wave before darting after him. I didn’t look back over my shoulder, but when I heard their door click shut, I knew they’d gone back inside. I ducked under Michael’s arm holding the door and headed down the stairs with him right on my trail.

As we moved to the bottom floor, we were silent, moving in sync. I wasn’t the same Emma I used to be. As we reached the back exit, I knew what to do. I stepped to the side, Michael handed me a gun, and I took it, ready for him.

He opened the door and swept his gun around, making sure we were clear behind the door. I went right, my gun up and steady as I cleared the front of the door for us. With the pathway clear, we jogged for the car, side by side.

The house was empty.

As we checked the last room, Peter closed the door and grunted, “I just clipped that last guy, but Gene’s men are long gone by now.”

“They were in the back, you said?”

He nodded, looking grim as we returned to the library. “They were mounting another attack. There were three of them. But when I busted through the door and started shooting, they ran off. I’m sure they’re safe by now and have warned the others. The elders…” He trailed off as we stepped through the open door.

Cole sat up, leaning against the couch. His eyes were closed, and he rubbed his forehead. He groaned without opening his eyes. “I’m going to have the motherload of headaches, aren’t I?”

“That’s what you get for letting Gene get the jump on you,” I told him.

He shot me a look. “Really?”

I shrugged. “The guy’s old. You’re a spring chicken compared to him.”

“Nice. Thank you. I just escaped death, and you’re giving me shit.”

Peter and I shared a grin. Cole was lucky to be alive. We knew that. He would’ve handled all of them, I was sure, but Gene had Emma in the room. I didn’t need to ask to know that Gene had done something to even the odds—maybe had a gun to Emma’s head or something. But I didn’t want to rehash it. I’d heard enough to know he’d gone rogue.

I held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s get your head checked out, then plan our next move.”

“Our next move?” Cole took my hand, and I pulled him up. He gave me a wary look. “Do I want to know?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">