“Leo, wait—” Emma digs her heels in, resisting. “If I talk to him and tell him I’m okay, maybe he’ll?—”
“He’ll kill me and take you,” I say flatly, still pulling her. “That’s what he’ll do.”
“You don’t know that!” Emma yanks her hand free and I have to stop and turn to face her. “He’s my father! If I tell him I’m safe and I want to stay?—”
I run a hand over my face. What the fuck isn’t she getting? “Emma.”
“Let me talk to him!” she says desperately, her green eyes so impossibly large. “Let me try! Maybe I can end this without anyone else dying!”
“Absolutely not,” I say, reaching for her again. “You’re going somewhere safe.”
Emma backs away from me, her eyes flashing. “Safe? While you and my father kill each other? While your men die? I won’t just hide!”
I shake my head. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Idohave a choice!” Emma shouts, and she’s backing further down the hallway, keeping distance between us. “This is my father! This is my life! You don’t get to lock me away like—like some damsel in a fucking tower!”
“Emma, please.” I take a step toward her and she takes two steps back.
“No! Listen to me!” Her hands are up now, like she’s physically trying to hold me off. “I can end this. If I go down there and tell him I’m choosing to stay and this is my decision, maybe he’ll listen!”
“He won’t listen.” I lunge for her, my hand encircling her wrist. “Connor doesn’t care about your choices. He cares about getting you back and punishing me.”
“You don’t know that!” Emma’s voice cracks. “You don’t know what he’ll do if I?—”
“I know exactly what he’ll do,” I interrupt, and I redouble my grip on her wrist. “Now come on.”
Emma wrenches her arm, trying to break free. “Let mego!”
I growl in frustration. “Emma, just fucking do as I tell you to do.”
“No! I’m not a child!” she shouts, and she’s fighting me in earnest now, pulling against my grip. “I’m not some helpless thing you need to protect! I can make my own decisions and I’m deciding to?—”
“You’re deciding to hide,” I say firmly, pulling her toward the second study. “Because I need to know you’re safe.”
“And I need to stop this!” Emma plants her feet, making me drag her. “Leo, people are dying!Yourpeople! If there’s any chance I can stop it?—”
“There isn’t,” I say, and we’re at the study now. I kick the door open with my foot.
“You don’t know that!” Emma twists, trying to slip out of my grip and I grunt at how hard I have to try to keep her nearby. “Let me try! Let me at leasttry!”
“No.”
“Why?” Emma demands, and she grabs onto the doorframe, holding on. “Why won’t you let me try to save lives?”
“Because I can’t lose you!” The words explode out of me, raw and desperate. “If something happens to you while you’re trying to talk to your father, if one of his men shoots you or if Connor decides you’re better off dead than with me—Emma, I can’t. I can’t think if I’m worried about you. I can’t fight if part of my brain is always wondering where you are, whether you’re hurt, or?—”
“And I can’t sit here while youdie!” Emma shouts back, and there are tears on her face now. “What if he kills you, Leo? What if you go down there and he shoots you and I’m locked away and I can’t—I can’t?—”
Her voice breaks and I use that moment to pull her away from the doorframe and into the study.
The bookshelf is on the far wall. Third shelf from the top, specific sequence.
“Leo, don’t youdare—” Emma sees where we’re going and understanding floods her face. “No! No, I won’t—you can’t make me?—”
“I can and I am,” I say, triggering the mechanism.
The bookshelf swings outward with a mechanical hiss, revealing the steel door of the panic room beyond.
