Page 110 of Kyle

I got it.

A hundred percent understood the fear and rage I’d seen in Thad’s eyes when Emerson had been kidnapped and taken to Mexico. I understood why after we’d rescued her he’d refused to allow her to walk on her own. Hell, he’d even towed her to the awaiting boat, not allowing her to swim herself. And when we’d gotten back to the hotel, she’d remained in his arms. I got it—all of it.

We were barely through the door when I heard boots tromping down the stairs at a fast clip.

Zane caught the door Thad had been holding before he slammed it closed behind him.

“Jesus fuck,” he clipped. “Goddamn!”

Anaya jerked in my arms and my stomach churned.

“Zane—” Emerson started.

“Goddamn!” he roared.

“We’re fine,” Emerson told him.

Thad’s angry growl echoed throughout the cavernous space.

I made my way across the room to a chair and plopped my ass in it and settled Anaya in my lap.

“This isn’t fine. This is far from fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Anaya’s voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. “This is my fault. All of it.”

“Anaya. Don’t—” Emerson started.

“I killed her. It’s my fault,” Anaya announced.

The room went static and a chill washed over me.

“Come again?” I asked.

“I killed her, that’s what started it. If I hadn’t killed Monica, Jeremy wouldn’t be dead.”

Anaya’s body shook and a tearless sob tore through her body.

“You killed Monica?” I whispered.

Anaya buried her face in my chest and nodded.

I glanced across the room at Emerson. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were on Anaya.

“What happened, sweetheart?”

Anaya shook her head against my chest, and after a few moments of silence, Emerson answered.

“She didn’t kill her. Anaya saved my life. I pushed Monica and she attacked me. I couldn’t breathe and Anaya saved my life. None of this is her fault. None of it. You hear me, Anaya. You. Saved. My. Life.” Emerson’s fierce statement hung in the air so thick I struggled to draw in oxygen.

There was a crash across the room, but I didn’t spare my boss a glance as he tore apart his living room. Shit was breaking, glass shattering, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. Even though my eyes were open and Zane’s fit of rage was playing out feet away from me.

I couldn’t see a goddamn thing but Emerson’s intense gaze. My eyes moved to Thad, and his gaze was not intense, it was furious. His dark brown eyes I’d once heard Emerson call soulful had caught fire.

“Emmy, baby,” Thad croaked.

Emerson went on to tell us the story. My insides were paralyzed. Fear, anger, pride, they swirled together, and every few sentences I had to squeeze Anaya just to remind myself she was safe. She was here.

Zane was wisely holding himself off to the side. Intellectually I knew what had happened wasn’t his fault. But my emotions were too raw, too bitter.