“You look stunning, Rayne.” He stepped back, eyes travelling the length of me then back up to meet my eyes. “Absolutely stunning.” He reached forward to touch me again. When I glared, he stopped. “I’m proud of you.”
I hadn’t expected that and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him saying something like that. Roarke was a mystery, and right now, I was uncertain about his motives. “You can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.”
“We need to talk. There are things you should know.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to know anything, Roarke. Not from you.” What he brought with him was everything I was trying to heal from, the compound, being used for my abilities, a world I wanted to forget.
His jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. “You need to hear me out.”
“I don’t need to do anything.”
He stiffened. “She will come for you, Rayne. The woman from the compound.” What was he talking about? “Give me five minutes. Then you can go back to your Scars and tell them everything.”
No. I couldn’t do this. Not now. “It’s not a good time. Maybe we can—”
“We need to do this now,” he demanded then grabbed my hand and tugged me forward. I stumbled on my heels and tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. “I have a feeling if I try to warn them, I’ll be dead before I have the chance.”
That was probably true. Roarke was a Grit and had worked for my husband, which meant he’d been a part of capturing Ryker and killing the other Scars. Delara let him walk once, but I doubted that would happen a second time. I still didn’t want to go with him.
“Roarke, let me go.”
He stopped. “We need to go outside. That Tracker friend of yours will pick up my scent in here.”
If Delara saw him with me, there’d be a scene, and I had no intention of ruining Danni’s night. Maybe I owed Roarke for all the times he’d tried to protect me in that place. “Okay. Five minutes. If I’m gone any longer, they’ll look for me.”
Roarke nodded and led me outside and off to the side of the large red A.G.O. sculpture. “They shouldn’t be able to scent me here.”
I slipped my hand from his and crossed my arms, meeting his eyes. Then I said what I’d wanted to say six months ago when I saw him.
“Why, Roarke?” I said. “Years you watched my husband abuse me. Years? And you did nothing.” He tensed and reached for my hand, but I shifted out of his grasp and continued. “Why didn’t you get me out of that place if you care so much?” Anger filtered into me as the emotions whirled. “Did you like knowing I couldn’t escape? Or did you enjoy watching Anton use me?”
“Fuck, no.” He ran his hand through his dark strands. “God, Rayne. It wasn’t like that.” Again he reached for my hand, and I again moved away. He sighed, bowing his head. “Damn it, I couldn’t. I tried to, but Rayne, I only stayed to protect you. If I left, he would’ve destroyed you. He didn’t know when to stop. His obsession was killing you. That’s when I hunted the Scars. To draw his attention away from you.”
“And ending up hurting innocent people.” His jaw clenched and his brows twitched. “Tell me what you need to. Then leave me alone.”
“Rayne—”
“You have thirty seconds.”
He hesitated then, “The woman at the compound, you remember her?” I’d been ten and thought she was going to be my new mom. “She’s powerful and dangerous. More so than any other I’ve known.” I kind of had that impression when I’d seen her. “Rayne, when I came back to the compound after you escaped, she was there.” He hesitated, eyes darting to the glass doors of the gallery. “She told me who you are.”
I frowned. “Huh?” What was he talking about? He knew I was a Scar already.
“How important you are. Who you are.”
“What do you mean by who?”
His head jerked up and his gaze darted to the glass doors again. “The Scars are looking for you.” He snagged my hand and squeezed. “Rayne, come with me. I swear I’ll keep you safe.”
“Roarke.” He was a Grit, and I was pretty sure he could’ve escaped the compound with me, but he hadn’t. I still didn’t want to see him die if the Scars saw him with me. “You should go before they see you.”
“They can’t protect you like I can,” he said.
I doubted that. “Even if that was true I wouldn’t go with you, Roarke.” I slipped my hand from his and he let me.
He nodded then reached out and swept the back of his hand down my check. “Warn the Scars. Tell them a—”
“Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”
Air sucked from my lungs and I spun around so fast, I lost my balance and staggered back on my heels. Roarke grabbed my forearm to steady me.
Oh, my God, Kilter. “Kilter?”
He stood at the curb beside a black Audi, raw anger pulsing through him. His eyes held a speck of red, and they were not focused on me, but on Roarke.
“Get the fuck away from him, Rayne.” Kilter slammed his car door and walked around it, looking like a pissed-off predator about to attack another predator for touching his prey. “Now!” he ordered.