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“Can you get me the pictures of the vics from the crime scene? I have a hunch.” He didn’t mention that Laila might know something. They would only find other ways to make her useful to their cause.

“A hunch?” Logan scoffed. “You mean a petite Latina you’re trying to keep out of this. Is there something going on between you and Laila?”

“I’m just saying I can research this digitally.” But he should have known they wouldn’t buy his deflection.

“Uh-huh. I’ve heard you don’t want her used as bait to draw out Kimber’s kidnappers—”

“Won’t have her used as bait,” he snapped. “Let’s be clear.”

“Last I heard, she was open to the idea. And last time I checked, you don’t own her. Do we need to remove her from your place?”

Trees didn’t have any illusions; they would do it. And he’d be terrified for her safety every moment. “Goddamn it, you’re going to get her killed. But I guess you think it’s okay to sacrifice her for your sister. No one will miss Laila. She’s not important or anything.”

“That’s not true, and we’re not fucking amateurs,” Hunter snarled. “We’ll do everything in our power to keep her safe—”

“Everything in your power isn’t a guarantee of her safety. You know what is? Leaving her at my place. I will protect her with my life, and—”

“Son of a bitch,” Logan groused. “You’re in love with her.”

“My feelings—whatever they are—have nothing to do with my ability to protect her.”

“Bullshit. You’re compromised,” Joaquin butted in.

“You’re wrong,” he snarled. “She finally feels safe for the first time in six years. You can’t imagine what she’s been through.” Hell, even Trees couldn’t because she hadn’t trusted him with her deepest, darkest secrets. But he had no doubt what she’d endured had been brutal. “Yet you want to use her—put her at risk again—by dangling her like a tasty treat in front of the very kinds of people who once abused and raped her. But I’m the misguided one?”

There was a long pause. In the background, he heard a ringing phone and some mumbling. “We have to go. That’s Matt. He has an update. We’ll be in touch.”

To try to take Laila from him. Fuck that.

Trees stabbed at his phone angrily and floored it out to his place as the sun began to set. There was rarely anyone on these bumpy country roads, and the Hummer could take the beating.

What mattered was Laila.

He shaved seven minutes off what should have been a twenty-minute drive and pulled up to his place with a slam on his brakes and a kick up of dust. Then he ran to the back door, opening it and disabling his security system just long enough to let himself in before he locked up and set the alarm again.

He’d been praying that Laila was all right. Had she felt safe in his secure, fire-resistant panic room? Or terrified because it doubled as a dungeon full of equipment she was likely to misunderstand?

Trees tore into his closet, punched in the code to his underground lair, then breathed a sigh of relief when the door popped open and Laila appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“You are back.” She sounded relieved.

She looked fucking beautiful, standing there in his overlarge sweatshirt, which made her look as if she wore nothing else except a pair of his too-big tube socks and a smile.

“Yeah.” He sprinted down to her.

She met him halfway. “You are safe.”

Laila had been worried about him? “Not a scratch. Zy has a flesh wound and a mild concussion. Tessa got her daughter back, and they’re both fine.”

“And Hector?”

“He’s dead.”

Laila gaped. “Are you sure?”

“I watched the coroner take him out in a body bag, along with his wife and Tessa’s ex-boyfriend.” He cupped her face. “Laila, I wasn’t leaving until Hector was either behind bars or six feet under. I made damn sure he couldn’t come after you again.”

Her soft expression looked both stunned and grateful. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want you to thank me. I just want you to feel safe with me.”

She didn’t reply. Trees tried not to be disappointed. Though Laila hadn’t told him that he made her feel secure, she hadn’t said that he didn’t.

“You hungry, little one?”

She shook her head. “I snacked on some of your prepackaged food. Is that all right?”

“Of course. Let’s get you out of here.”

Laila nodded, not balking when he took her hand and led her up the stairs. He shut the door to the dungeon behind him, helped her out of the closet, and moved his clothes to cover the keypad again.

“Trees?”

He turned to her in the shadowy room, lit by the last remnants of dusk. “Yeah?”

“Do you use the…implements in that room?”

Shit. Here came the interrogation. Of course she had questions. If she had ever seen equipment like his, it had been used for her torture, not her pleasure. She was likely afraid, and he had to tread carefully.

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