Carter Reed

He would go to Franco and get into his house, but he couldn’t. Franco’s death was a political death. It had to be approved by his family. And even when he would die—and he would die—the Bertal Family would send another. They were all the same. They would do as Franco had done with Cristino. They would take over the last assignment and do more than they needed to prove their authority to the neighborhood.
    That couldn’t happen. When Franco died, it had to stop with him. No one could hurt her.
    Carter shut the drawer softly and left for the gym. His hands needed to pummel someone so the boxing bag would have to be it. As he went, he was already thinking of ways to ensure that Franco’s death would be the last of it.
    Two hours later, he was still considering ways to cement her freedom.

I woke from an empty sleep. His arms weren’t around me. I didn’t feel his legs entwined with mine anymore and when I turned over, I already knew he was gone. The clock said that it was after six in the morning. There were no other lights on, not that I could see, but I rose and grabbed the robe again. I pulled it on as I went in search of him.
    I went through every floor and looked in every room. It wasn’t until I got to the bottom floor that I heard him. A light was on and shone underneath a closed door, but I heard thumping from inside the room. As I opened the door, I saw him in the middle of a gym. His black pants were still on, but his shirt was gone and sweat gleamed down his chest. His hands were taped and he was circling a punching bag. There was blood on his tape. I tried to find where he had been hurt, but I didn’t see blood anywhere else. Only sweat and muscles. They constricted and stretched as he continued to hit the punching bag, each illuminated in the stark contrast by the light. I wondered if there was an ounce of fat on him. It didn’t seem likely, but then he stopped as he saw me.
    He touched the bag to hold it as it swayed and his chest rose up and down from his breathing. His eyes narrowed when I stepped inside the room. “You couldn’t sleep?”
    I shook my head.
    I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be near him, but I couldn’t say that. What would change then? I held my tongue, though my hands fought against me. They wanted to reach out to him. My feet wanted to cross the room and I wanted to feel his arms around me again. I swung my body back to keep myself from going to him.
    His pull on me was so powerful, too powerful. It scared me.
    “Emma.”
    I jerked my eyes up to his and gulped. His eyes had darkened as he watched me. Lust filled them, but there was more to his darkness. There was danger in them as well. That was what kept me from going to him. He was so dangerous.
    “You never looked at your phone, did you?”
    I frowned. My phone? But then I remembered. I shook my head. No, I hadn’t. And he’d been right earlier. I hadn’t looked at my phone because I wanted to run from him. I wanted to hide from what my life had become. I wanted to forget everything, just for a night.
    “Talk to me,” he urged in a quiet voice.
    I gasped as I heard a soft yearning in him. There was a pleading within him and my eyes went round. He was pleading with me for something. Oh god. I couldn’t stop myself. I crossed the room to him, but I stopped right before him. I didn’t touch him. My eyes fell to his chest and it rose up and down in a steady rhythm. My hand lifted without my decision and touched where his heart was. My eyes widened as I saw my own hand in front of me. Why couldn’t I stop myself when I was around this man?
    “What are you thinking?” His voice grew rough. His heart picked up its pace underneath my hand.
    I sighed to myself. It was soft and quiet, but it was everything. It was my surrender. I closed my eyes and I stepped into him. His arms wound around my waist and then my head rested on his chest. It was right to be in his arms.
    “Emma. You need to talk to me.”
    I nodded, choked up now. My hand wound around his waist and formed into a fist on his waistband. As I bit my lip in a poor attempt to hold myself from jumping him, I lifted my head and gave him a fleeting smile. “I wanted to forget for the night.”
    He nodded, his eyes darkened even more.
    I couldn’t look away now that my eyes had connected with his. The words tumbled free now. “I wasn’t hiding from you. I was hiding from everything. I’m sorry that your men contacted you and you had to come back