I took the phone from him and walked a few steps away, Mason under my arm. I dialed my home number and my mom answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom,” I said. “It’s me.”
“Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m still with Emory. How are you?”
There was a short pause. “About as good as you’d guess, after seeing that.”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“There are people here, you know, cleaning up. That man Cooper is also staying with us. He seems like he knows what he’s doing.”
“Good, Mom. I’m glad.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Emory doesn’t know,” I said. “It could be a while.”
There was another pause. “I hate this. I wish we could call the police.”
“We can’t,” I said. “Trust them, Mom. They’ve kept us safe so far.”
“You’re right. Your father wants to speak to you.”
“Okay. I love you.” But she had already passed the phone off.
“Tara?”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Listen, I just wanted to say that I was sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“It’s okay. We’re way past that now.”
“I know, honey. Stay safe.”
“I will. I’m with Emory.”
“Yes, Emory. The cause of all this.”
I sighed. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t being fair.
“Dad.”
“Okay. I love you, honey.”
“I love you too.”
I hung up the phone.
Emory looked at me. “Everything good?”
I held the phone out to him. “Good.”
He took the phone and then smashed it onto the ground. He slammed his heel down on it, destroying the phone.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
He grinned at me. “Why so jumpy, princess?”
“Warn me next time,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Maybe. I’d rather just scare you.”
I shook my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
I headed out, down toward the car, Emory carrying Mason’s things just behind me.
I couldn’t blame my dad for being angry about all this. I was a little angry, too. Things were more complicated for me though, considering Emory was the father of my child.
And not to mention the way Emory made me feel. Excitement was an understatement; Emory sent electric fire down my veins.
How could I hate a man who made me feel that way?
We headed out toward the car, and nervousness flickered through my stomach.
Chapter 16
Emory
We didn’t talk much as we got into the car, strapped Mason down in his car seat in the back, and hit the open road.
I didn’t drive too fast. Travis was trailing us, making sure nobody was following, or at least trying to. Travis was good at what he did, but after this morning I was beginning to think that Omar was more dangerous than I had thought. The men in his cell weren’t all that well trained, but Omar himself knew what he was doing, and he could carry the group to new heights.
Which was incredibly dangerous for us. Earlier, I woke up to the sound of Mason’s crying coming through the baby monitor. I looked at Tara, sleeping soundly, and quickly switched it off. I couldn’t wake her up, not when I knew that the most difficult part of this was still ahead of us. So long as Omar was out there, I knew we were in for more violence and fear, more blood.
I could tell something was on her mind as we drove, but I didn’t press. I didn’t think it was my place, but more than that, I was worried I was tangling myself too closely with her. I needed to be able to remain objective, to make decisions that were best for everyone. If she began to get into my head and cloud my mind, I didn’t know what might happen.
I had to face it though. That had already fucking happened. The girl had lodged herself so deeply in my mind that I could barely think of anything other than her sweet pussy. That look on her face as I fucked her until she came returned to my mind over and over again, and every time it sent a sharp thrill down my spine.
The only thing I wanted was to make her feel that way again. I wanted to sink my cock deep between her legs and make her moan.
And then there was Mason. My son. I didn’t know what I wanted with him, what he meant to me, but when I held him in my arms and fed him that bottle, I felt something inside me that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. I’d thought that part of me had died out on the battlefield, but apparently it hadn’t.
I’d become hardened over the years. Battle after battle and countless deaths, many of them by my own hands, had scarred me. And those scars had healed hard, making me tough, making it hard to really injure me. You could hurt my body, but I thought nobody could hurt my soul.