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As a tear slid down her cheek, I knew she’d burned through her rage. Before she could fall into a chasm of shame and tumble into the land of self-pity, I strode across the room and wrapped her in my arms.
“Oh, Grant, I’m such a fool,” she moaned, melting against me.
I drew back my hand and swatted her ass. Emma jerked and sucked in a gasp, then glared at me.
“Wipe that look off your face, and don’t ever belittle yourself again, sweet slut,” I growled, caressing her orbs to ease the sting.
As if I’d waves a magic wand, her expression softened and she exhaled a tiny sigh.
“You mayfeellike a fool, but you have no reason to. You didn’t need Wesley’s family or yours to tell you a damn thing, little one. You knew in your heart and deep down in your soul marrying Wesley was a mistake. So, you plotted and planned, and escaped. You’re a survivor, my love, not a victim.”
“You’re right.” She nodded resolutely.
“I know.” I smirked and winked. Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not sure you’re aware, but your shirt’s covered in blood, little one. If you want, I’ll give you mine.”
She glanced at her chest and cringed. When she raised her head, and looked at my shirt, she blinked at the logo in confusion. Leaning to the side, she looked down at my slacks.
“Umm, Grant,whyare you wearing a delivery uniform?”
“I had to get inside the building somehow to save you.” I shrugged.
“You’re not only gorgeous, but you’re also brilliant.”
“And you’re not only sexy and brave, but you also stroke my ego…andotherparts of me, just right.”
A flicker of hunger danced in her eyes. “I want to go home.”
“Ditto. As soon as we take care of things here, and get you looked at, I’ll get us on a flight out of here. I promise.”
A loud buzz sliced through the air, causing us both to jump.
“What the fuck is that?” I bit out, hating being caught off guard.
“It’s the doorman. My parents must be here,” Emma said, hurrying toward the front door, waving for me to follow. “You’ll have to pretend to be Wesley and tell him to send them up.”
After granting them permission, I ushered Emma back to the living room and helped her onto the couch. I grabbed the sheet off the floor and draped it over Wesley’s body, then waited at the door to meet Emma’s parents.
I didn’t have to wait long before I heard a sturdy knock. Dragging in a deep breath, I turned the knob and opened the door.
“Mr. Bishop. Mrs. Bishop.” I nodded to each of them and welcomed them in before extending my arm, barring them from going any farther.
“Where’s Emma?” Rupert Bishop demanded, darting a disapproving glance at my arm.
“She’s in the living room, waiting for you, but—”
“Then get out of the way, so we can see our daughter,” he demanded.
Though I knew he was simply eager to clap eyes on Emma, it had been a long time since I’d taken orders from anyone. I didn’t much like it then, and I hated it even more now. Striving for patience, I nodded.
“I will, but first, I need to try to prepare you for what you’re about to walk into here.”
As quickly and succinctly as possible, I explained everything…from the tornado to Wesley’s dead body lying in the kitchen. As I’d expected, I was met with various degrees of shock, anger, and disbelief. I invited them to check out Wesley’s apartment, to see for themselves, but the only thing the Bishops wanted to see was Emma.
“Don’t look to your left,” I murmured before escorting them toward the living room.
Emma stood—with her bruised flesh and short, dark hair matted and crusted with blood, bottom lip split, swollen and still oozing, wearing her dirty, blood-stained shirt—and confidently raised her chin to greet them.
Roslyn gasped in shock as tears welled in her eyes. Rupert simply groaned in horror and dismay. Agony lined their faces as they rushed to Emma at once and wrapped her in their arms.
