“UNCLE JACK.”
Instead of the bush pants and T-shirts from her memory, he wore a suit without a tie. He looked like someone who was used to pushing paper around on a desk instead of diving for oysters. She knew from experience, he was a hell of a lot stronger than someone who spent their days behind a desk. Oyster farming was grueling physical work and the man standing in front of her had been more than capable of handling all of it.
“You remember. The way you ran off without saying good-bye, I wasn’t sure...well, I wasn’t sure what to think. And then you surfaced halfway around the world—in North Carolina of all places.”
Sophie’s blood had gone to ice in her veins. She didn’t stand a chance at running. With the deadbolt on, she’d never get out of the door or into the elevator fast enough to escape. She might be able to lock herself in one of the bedrooms. She ran through possible scenarios in her head, grateful he seemed more interested in talking than shooting—for the time being at least. She didn’t have any illusions about how long that would last.
“I’m going to need you to come with me. You’ve got something I want.”
He said it as if her cooperation was a given. To him it probably was. He’d already proved he was willing to kill to get what he wanted. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat at the image of Smithson—Daniel—slumped on the bench. She’d be pathetic resistance in comparison.
“If you’re talking about the farm, you can have it.”
A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly shuttered it.
“How long have you known?”
“Not long. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want it.”
“Good girl, but I’m still going to need you to come back to Australia with me to sign the papers in front of a magistrate. It’s so much easier to transfer the deed if you’re alive. It’s something I learned after your brother died. Speaking of which...”
He went on but a ringing started in Sophie’s ears and she had to grab the back of the sofa to steady herself.
“You killed Noah.” She phrased it as a statement, not a question. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was the truth. The accident had never made sense to her. Looking back over the years, she’d wondered if the police suspected something too—not that any of that would bring Noah back.
“Not me personally. You’ve got to understand; the men I’m in business with aren’t the most patient. Which is what I was trying to apologize for. My overzealous associate was not supposed to try to kill you. It’s a mistake he won’t make again.”
She should be grateful he needed her alive; otherwise, she’d be dead already. Gratitude wasn’t something she could feel at the moment.
“You’re working with the Darah. They sell people—women and children. Torture them.”
There were too many horrible things piled on top of each other for Sophie to begin to make sense of them, but the man standing in front of her had brought her treats as a child. He’d made her mother laugh. And he’d had her brother killed. It was too much to process.
“You’ve certainly found out a lot for a young woman a world away. That man of yours must be better than I gave him credit for.”
Her stomach tightened and her heart beat so loud, she was surprised the other man couldn’t hear it. The idea of him somehow connecting this mess to Emerson terrified her. More than fear for her own safety, she couldn’t stand the idea of him or anyone else he was close to being hurt because of her. Sarah, Amanda, Gabe. He had a family he loved. People who needed him.
“He’s not part of this.”
“Whatever you say, luv. You don’t need him anymore anyway. I’ll look out for you. I always have. It’s the reason the Darah kept their hands off you. You’re my family.” He said the words as if he were offering her a treasure instead of tearing apart her world.
“What?” she asked, as the meaning of his words penetrated her thoughts.
“I’m your uncle. Your father’s brother. You didn’t know? You always called me uncle.”
“I thought that was just a nickname.” Her lips were cold. She didn’t know that was even possible. She felt like she’d been swimming in ice-cold water and she was getting ready to go under again.
“I guess I’m not surprised your mother never told you. My brother didn’t treat her very well.”
What kind of man must her father have been if the monster in front of her thought he wasn’t good to her mother? It didn’t matter. None of that mattered. Not the past. Not the pearls. Nothing mattered but surviving if she could and keeping Emerson safe if she couldn’t.
“We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. We can talk about it on the way. Slip on your shoes.” He picked her handbag off the chair and emptied it on the counter, fishing through it until he found her wallet with her ID. He tucked that into the empty bag and handed it back to her. “You won’t need more than this. Let’s go.”
––––––––
EMERSON HAD COME so close to telling Sophie he loved her. He still hadn’t been able to say the words but holding her in the dark, making love to her, he’d tried to show her how he felt. And then he’d snuck out of bed the next morning before she woke. He had to get a grip. He couldn’t think about anything but her. He couldn’t get his work done and he was no closer than he’d been to figuring out how to get the target off Sophie’s back.
The only thing he was becoming increasingly sure of was that he might have misunderstood what it meant to compromise for love. He’d assumed when his mom gave up her journalism career to take care of them that she’d lost more than she gained. It’s exactly what he’d been thinking about with Liam and his goat farmer too. The thing he hadn’t realized was that love didn’t take things from you or make you smaller. Love gave so much more. He’d do anything for Sophie and be glad to do it because loving her made him better at being who he was supposed to be. Just like loving Andy made Liam stronger and loving her family made his mother even better than she’d been before them.
Now that he saw it, he couldn’t unsee it. It was like one of those optical illusions that was such a struggle to start out with but as soon as the image became clear, it was as if it were the only thing there.
He loved Sophie. And their love—God, please let her love him too—could make them both stronger. He wasn’t too old and she wasn’t too innocent and neither of them had to lose anything to be together. The only thing he’d lose was his chance at happiness if she walked out of his life. He wanted to share everything with her: his life, his love, his big loving family. He wanted to give her all the things she’d had to do without over the years. And he wanted to start now.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” he said, to everyone and no one in particular in the outside office. He might have heard whistles behind his back as he left but he didn’t care. Punching the button for the elevator, he dialed Smithson’s number to let him know he was on his way up. It rang through to voicemail. Not bothering to leave a message, he punched the number again, ice flooding his veins.
“Someone said you were taking the day off. I thought I was hearing things,” said Gabe, coming to stand behind him.
“Smithson’s not answering. Something’s wrong.” His entire focus narrowed to getting to Sophie and making sure she was safe.
The elevators started its descent but instead of the doors opening in front of Emerson and Gabe, the car kept going.
“Take two guys and get upstairs to the apartment. Send Andrews and Perez to the parking garage and anybody else who’s free to cover the other floors.”
Gabe started barking orders and men started to rush out into the hallway. The teams went in different directions while Emerson worked out scenarios in his head. His first instinct was to race upstairs, but something in his gut stopped him. He couldn’t think of what it meant for Sophie if Smithson had been compromised. He couldn’t think dead because that would make it likely Sophie was dead too.
But how would someone get into the building? Everything was locked down through a combination of key cards and codes. There weren’t any other tenants at the moment. The second he had the thought he remembered the email and took off at a run for the lobby. God, he was so stupid. He should have seen the danger before it happened. Now he had to pray he could get to the woman he loved in time.
He tucked the radio in his ear as he ran and heard the all clears coming from the different parts of the building, but nothing from his brother. Nothing from the floor his apartment was on.
It would make sense for someone to try to get out through the garage. There was less traffic and fewer eyes, but anyone smart enough to book a showing with the realtor would know the garage was gated. The fastest easiest way in and out of the building was in plain sight: through the front door of the lobby.
He skidded around the corner and through the door to the lobby just in time to see the elevator doors start to open. He stepped into the cover of the doorway but not before he met a terrified Sophie’s gaze. Her beautiful blue eyes pleaded with him and it took everything he had not to rush across the lobby floor to get to her.
The man who stepped out of the elevator with her had his arm in his grip but no visible weapon. That was all the information he needed. Anything short of a gun drawn on Sophie wasn’t enough to get him to stop. He had to reach her before they made it out of the building. Sophie sped up, as if she were trying to get to the door faster. It put a few steps between her and the man and gave Emerson the opening he needed.
Stepping out from the shadow of the doorway he hit the man’s wrist, freeing Sophie. It was a calculation—free Sophie and deal with a wary assailant or attack the attacker and risk Sophie getting hurt. The man spun, sweeping out his leg and hitting the side of Emerson’s knee. It hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t go down. When he got through this he was going to thank Liam for the sixty-forty stance rule. If he’d had any more weight on his front leg he’d have gone down. The man reached into his waistband, but Emerson didn’t wait to see the gun. He lunged at the man, unable to focus on anything other than keeping Sophie safe. He’d sacrifice anything—willingly—to make sure she survived.
They went down in a tangle of limbs, hitting the ground hard enough that he had to fight for breath. The other man was older, but he was strong, like someone used to working and fighting hard. Emerson reached for the guy’s gun hand, trying to pin him to the floor, but the man wouldn’t go down. His head crashed up and Emerson felt his nose break. Nothing could make him let go of the gun.
Emerson swung his leg around, leveraging his weight to flip the guy onto his back. Using everything he had, he bashed the man’s head against the concrete until he felt his body go limp. Sending the gun skittering across the floor and out of reach, he searched the lobby for Sophie. Tears shown in her eyes, but she smiled as she met his gaze. Her expression shifted a split second later to shock.
His focus kept him from seeing the blade before it was too late. The man tensed underneath him and he felt the cold slice of metal through flesh. Ignoring the sharp bite of pain, ignoring everything but keeping Sophie safe, he threw punch after punch until the man stopped moving. Emerson heard voices over the radio and voices behind him as his vision began to dim. Somewhere in the distance he heard Sophie calling his name. Hands lifted him off the guy and other hands put pressure on his side. His body felt like ice and his vision blurred but none of that mattered because she was safe. His Sophie was safe.
––––––––
SOPHIE WAITED BY the hospital bed, ignoring the effect the antiseptic smell had on her stomach. It didn’t matter how she felt about hospitals. Nothing about her past mattered. She couldn’t see anything beyond the man in the hospital bed and the future she hoped to have with him.
There was no way she was leaving Emerson’s side until he could walk out of the hospital with her. She could still picture the pool of blood forming around him as he lay on the lobby floor. Her heart ached when she thought about how close she’d come to losing him. She let out a shaky breath and took his hand in hers to reassure herself that he was still there.
Emerson’s men had been in and out of the hospital in rotating shifts, at least one of them at the door at all times. The police had taken her uncle into custody and with her kidnapping, the attempt on Emerson’s life, and the information Gabe gave them about the shell party connection, it was unlikely he’d ever see the outside of a jail cell again.
That didn’t solve the problem of the cartel, but she and Gabe had come up with a solution they thought would work. It wasn’t perfect, but if it kept them all safe, it was a compromise she was willing to make.
“Sophie.” Her name was barely more than a rasp on his lips, but it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
“Shh, I’m here.” She squeezed his hand tighter and moved so he could see her.
“Got to tell you something.” He struggled as if he were trying to sit up, and she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Stop it, before you hurt yourself. You just got out of surgery.” The hours waiting with his family for the doctor to tell them he’d be okay were the longest of her life.
“I’m fine,” he said, hitting her with a smile that made her heart beat faster.
She loved making him smile.
“Just be still, please.” She could tell it was the please that got him, and she filed the information away to use later. When he was stronger.
“Brat. Fine, you lean in then.”
She leaned over, pressing her forehead to his. She felt him draw in a deep breath and the tightness in her chest relaxed. The blade just missed his lungs. The surgeon said it was a lucky thing, that a quarter inch could have made the distance between life and death.
“God, you smell good. Like roses and my Sophie.”
She bit her lip to hold back the tears. She wanted to be his. More than anything else, she wanted to love him and be loved by him.
“The hospital bed has kind of a nice symmetry, don’t you think? It’s where we first met.”
“I think we need a do-over. A story that doesn’t have so much violence in it.” She stroked a hand over his cheek, loving the rasp of stubble against her palm.
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
She started to lean back but he stopped her.
“Wait a minute. I know we said we weren’t going to do the relationship thing, but I’d like you to reconsider. Since you were barely more than a girl, you’ve been racing toward something better, and I’ve been stuck here moving in slow motion. Deliberate. Methodical. Alone. It’s like a suit that doesn’t fit me anymore. You fit me. We fit together. I love you, Sophie.”
“Did you just call me a suit, Southerland?”
His brow creased, and she reached out to smooth it with her thumb before brushing her lips over his.
“I love you, too.”
His hand went around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She might have heard Gabe and his sisters cheering in the background, but it didn’t matter. Her focus narrowed on the man she loved and who loved her back, and how she could help him heal.
So they could go home.