“I’m sorry,” she said.
He slammed to a halt. She was sorry? He didn’t need her to be sorry. Apologies weren’t going to bring his brother back safe and sound. And fuck her for that line about trust. If she truly trusted him, she’d help save Cam, because when he told her he’d never let anything happen to her, she’d believe it to the very pit of her soul.
But she didn’t. Maybe she was incapable of it. Still, the fact that she didn’t trust him cut like a dull blade. He’d done nothing to earn her mistrust.
He faced her again and had to unlock his jaw to speak. “If you’re still not going to help Cam, you need to walk away from me right fucking now because trading your life for my brother’s is looking better and better.”
She flinched and backed a step away. “I really am sorry for everything I put you through. Please remember that.” She spun on her heel and ran. Same as she always did.
Vaughn stood there for a long time, eyes squeezed shut against the intense hurt shredding his insides. He didn’t know why he’d expected anything more from her, but he had. When she’d appeared out of the swirling snow, he’d expected so much more than an apology and chaste little kiss.
“Vaughn!” Marcus slammed outside. “What the hell? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“It’s not ring—” He reached into his pocket and came up empty. “Fuck!” He bolted into the office, hot on Marcus’s heels. “Dahlia was here. She must’ve lifted it off me.”
Everyone was gathered around Reece’s laptop, which echoed each trill of the phone. It stopped just as Vaughn reached the desk.
Dahlia’s voice came on the line, clear and strong. “Let Cam Wilde go, Giuseppe. He has nothing to do with this.”
“Well, now,” Bellisario’s voice replied. “If it isn’t my long-lost daughter-in-law.”
“Let him go, and I’ll come home.”
Libby sucked in a sharp breath and stared across the desk at Vaughn, her cheeks draining of color. “Oh my God! Lark—or Sage or Dahlia or whatever her name is. She’s Giuseppe Bellisario’s daughter-in-law?”
Vaughn nodded, his gut in so many knots it hurt. He stared at the computer and wished he could reach through the digital world and sever the connection. Jesus. She was trading herself for Cam. Why the fuck would she do that? He’d never have asked it of her.
“Why?” Bellisario demanded at the other end of the line. “Who’s Cam Wilde to you?”
“He’s nobody to me,” Dahlia said softly. “I barely know him, but he means a great deal to someone I love.”
Vaughn’s knees went to water, and he sank into a chair. She knew he was listening, just as he knew those words were meant for him.
“Someone you love?” Bellisario snarled. “What about my son? Your husband?”
“No, I never loved him,” she admitted. “I thought so, but I was young. I didn’t know what love meant. I had no frame of reference—until recently.”
“It’s that private investigator. Vaughn.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Cam had nothing to do with what happened to Marcel. If you want me, you have to release him. Unharmed.”
“You’re willing to die to save him?”
She was silent for a beat. “When you love someone—really, truly love them—any sacrifice is worth their happiness.”
Vaughn folded over in the chair and cradled his head in his hands. She’d been trying to tell him what she intended to do, but he’d been too much of an ass to listen. The apologies he’d thought hollow hadn’t been apologies at all. No, they’d been a good-bye.
“Well?” Dahlia said, breaking the drawn-out silence, both on the phone line and in the room. “That’s my offer, Giuseppe. Cam for me. Going once. Going twice—”
“All right,” Bellisario said.
Marcus smacked the desk. “Damn. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. He’ll kill them both.”
“Oh, she knows,” Vaughn said and straightened. “But she’s going to try anyway. For me.” He didn’t bother trying to hide his emotions—the ones always running fast and deep just under the surface that he usually kept locked up tight. Didn’t have the energy. Didn’t care that his brothers both gaped at the tears leaking from his eyes. Because, fuck, he couldn’t lose both Dahlia and Cam, which was exactly what would happen if he didn’t find a way to help them.
“I have a warehouse in Ivy City,” Bellisario said. “Meet me there.”
Marcus snapped his fingers and Reece nodded. “Yeah, hang on. I have the address here somewhere—”
“No need.” Vaughn was already headed for the door. “I know exactly where it is.” It was the same fucking warehouse where he’d first drawn Bellisario’s attention to him.
Marcus darted forward, blocking his path. “Whoa. Hold up. Last thing we need is to give him another hostage.”
“He doesn’t want another hostage. He wants Dahlia dead.”