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“I’m taking her home,” I tell Casper as he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m taking her home with me.”
There’s no use in arguing, and he knows it. He knows better than anyone that I’m not letting her out of my sight. Fuck, I might never let her out of my reach again. Not after today. It’s twice that she’s had a narrow escape. Twice that my efforts fell short. That I fell short when it comes to her, and it’s not happening again.
Pulling his sweatshirt off, Casper puts it over Georgina’s back as the lift doors open and we head out into the cool evening. Every step I take, her tears grow heavier and her body slacker.
When we get to the McLaren, I get her inside and buckle her in before she curls up into a ball in the light leather seat. Reaching across her, I turn the seat heater on to try and calm her shivers.
I’m rounding the car when Cooper stops me. “I’m calling a doctor to meet you at the house.”
When I nod, he heads to the car that pulls up close, and I get in mine. It doesn’t matter how gentle I’m revving the engine to life, Georgina holds herself tightly with a noticeable flinch. I want to tell her that she’s safe and there’s no need for her to be scared, but I know that it will only make her fear worse.
Instead, I switch the radio off and do the hour-and-a-half drive in silence, allowing her the time to let everything sink in. I’m ready to blow the fucking world apart. All this low-key and quiet shit isn’t getting us anywhere. They keep coming at us, and every hit gets harder and harder. I’m done playing by the rules. Done waiting. After today, I’m over playing battleships.
They want a war? I’m going to bring them hell.
Chapter 14
FREDDIE
The doctor leaves as Benedict and Mercia arrive. I want to tell them to turn around and come back when Georgina isn’t still overwhelmed by her shock and grief. It seems wrong to make her endure their worry only so they can go home and sleep.
“I’m fine,” she tells her dad as he takes stock of her.
“Yes, I know.” Still, he crouches a little lower in front of her as she curls up tighter into the corner of the sofa. Benedict doesn’t touch her. I’m not sure if it’s because he knows that she won’t be able to bear the affection right now, or maybe he’s scared that she’ll explode in front of us.
Georgina’s as fragile as a ticking bomb, or maybe a grenade that’s had its pin pulled. One wrong touch. One wrong move and she’ll blow.
“Then why are you here?” The venom in her voice is low and sharp enough that even I feel it slice through him.
It’s disconcerting standing where I am. Watching them. For the first time, I’m the outsider. I want to know what’s making her lash out at him because I feel every ounce of her hurt and agony right now. Something that only happens with her. Anyone else and I could block them out, but her…she feels so much and so deep that I feel it too. In my body and soul. As though she is physically a part of me. As if we have a physical tether that conducts her currents through me.
“You don’t care. Not really.” Dull eyes flash to his as she spits, “Leave. Get out. Leave me alone.”
“Georgina,” Mercia coos, earning her a dead, vapid look.
“You too,” she bites at her mother. “I don’t want you here.”
To my surprise, Benedict stands and ushers Mercia out of the lounge. He’s normally a lot more difficult and stubborn. Exactly like his daughter, he puts up a good fight. Not today, apparently. We pause by the front door as their driver heads for the car.
“Georgina might not think I care,” Benedict tells me, his brows pulling into a scowl. “She’s wrong.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
A humourless laugh vibrates from him when he steps closer, hands in his pockets as he stands taller. “Listen to me, son. Listen carefully. You don’t shit on my daughter again. You’re going to be the solace she’s after, and if she needs it, you’ll crawl on your hands and knees for her.”
Normally, I would cut him down. Today, however, it seems we’re on the same page. “Georgina’s mine.”
“Treat her like the most goddamn precious possession you have.”
“She is my only precious thing.”
As though this is a gentleman’s agreement, he nods before ushering Mercia out ahead of him after she has one last glance into the lounge. Their detail leads her to the waiting car, and before he follows, I tell him, “I’m done playing by the rules.”
“You and me both, Frederick,” he grits out, looking in the direction of the house a few doors down.
A few of Cooper’s men are milling around on the other side of the road as he gets into the car, and they drive off. Every possible entry of the house is manned. Yet, when I head inside, I pop the third step and take out one of Glocks, checking the magazine before I slip it into the top of my joggers and pull my T-shirt over it.
Heading to the kitchen to make her a tea and get some of her temazepam to help her sleep, I steal a glimpse of Georgina. Her hair is a tangle of wild, damp curls from the shower she had earlier. In one of my T-shirts, she looks impossibly small. Breakable. The sight of her is all it takes for my plan to go out of the window.
