Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)

“No.” He zipped them and reached for his shirt.

I watched as he finished getting dressed. He was putting on some shoes when I tried again. “Carter—”

“I just got you back.” He whipped back to face me, his eyes seething. “A bomb, Emma. A bomb, then this car. They were trying for you. If your sister hadn’t been there, they would’ve found you. They would’ve looked for you, and the first place they would’ve searched would’ve been underneath the big bodyguard. I am sorry your sister was taken. I will get her back, but if she hadn’t been there? You. It would’ve been you.” He gritted his teeth as he finished, and his shoulders were tense, so rigid. “I would already have a body count in the thirties by now, if it had been you. Heaven and hell. That’s where I would go for you. So, no, you cannot help.”

Going to the dresser, he pulled out a 9mm and stuck it into a shoulder holster. He reached back inside and paused, and a moment later he pulled out another handgun. Meeting my eyes, his harried and haunted, he placed the gun onto the edge of the bed.

“I’m not a fan of Theresa, but right now, I could hug her,” he said quietly. “You know how to use this.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.

“This is your friend. You wear this everywhere. You get so used to it that you feel naked without it. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He paused, studying everything about me. He was testing me. A year ago, I would’ve been scared. Now, I was just wary. “I’m fine, Carter.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me.

I pulled the sheet so I was covered and looked down at my hands in my lap. They weren’t shaking. They were calm. I held them up. “See. I’m fine. This isn’t our first time here, and I feel like we’ve been getting ready for this forever. War. It’s coming. Those were your words and well, it’s here. I’m not shocked. I’m scared—I won’t lie to you—but I’m here, and I’ll help in any way—”

A warning flared in his eyes.

“—Any way you’ll let me,” I finished. “Whether that means holding down the fort here or going out to fight side by side with you, I’ll do what you say.”

At my words, his shoulders dropped, relaxing. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.”

I did, until he was threatened. Then all promises went out the window. I’d protect him with my life. “You have to promise me one thing,” I added.

He grew wary now. “What?”

“Be. Safe.” I swallowed over a lump. “I know you’re the Cold Killer, but it goes both ways. You love me. I love you back. I’ll be safe, but you hold up your end, too. Be. Safe.”

He let out a deep breath. The lines around his eyes seemed to deepen, and he crossed the room to me. Bending down, he cupped my head and pressed his lips to mine. At the slight contact, I surged up and wound my arms around his neck.

He gave me air, for that small moment. Once he left, I’d be holding my breath until he returned, and I knew the process would repeat over and over again until he found my sister.

I wanted to pull him back down. I wanted to stall him and keep him with me a moment longer, but I didn’t. I sat there as he turned and left.

I could hear conversation a beat later, then a door shut. It wasn’t long before one of the guards cleared his throat outside the room, the door still closed between us.

“Miss Emma?”

“Drake?”

“Just letting you know Peter and I are here. Michael went with Mr.—he went with Carter.”

The lump doubled in size, but I called back as if it weren’t there, “Thank you, Drake.”

Michael. Peter. Drake. Carter. Me.

That was all that was left.

Carter returned in the morning, but he hadn’t found her. The next day was the same. Then the third day. The fourth. Fifth. The days blended into a week, then into the second week. All the same results. Nothing. They couldn’t find Andrea.

The next few weeks felt like we were living in an alternate universe. There were no friends to spend time with. There were no paparazzi in hiding because we were in hiding. No one knew where we were. No wine nights. No gun range nights. No nights at the club. Even the guards—we all protected each other. Carter kept looking for Andrea, and as the weeks progressed, a routine started for us.

Peter and Drake would go out during the day. Their job was to gather information, so they followed the Bartels like ghosts, wherever they went. They identified all the men who worked for them. They figured out all of their schedules for each day of the week.