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Mistakenly, I reach for her again when she dips her chin to her chest. Three of those burly Cerberus motherfuckers step forward in her defense, and it proves what Angel was saying, that no harm will come her way. They won’t even allow an ounce of it from me. It won’t stop them from prosecuting her, which is another thing he warned of. I can only imagine what it looked like when they stormed the compound.

I know I wouldn’t be here to explain if the tables were turned, and they’d stormed in only a couple of days before and saw what Pirro was forcing me to do. I’m certain her gender, the fact that women are supposed to be the nurturing sex and not the one to do harm, is the only thing that gave her a chance where these men are concerned. It wasn’t going to prevent Angel from putting an end to her, so I have to be grateful for them.

She doesn’t tell me that she’s okay, and honestly, I’m thankful not to be lied to. But standing here silently, while everyone in the room gawks at us, isn’t exactly the most comfortable position to be in.

“I hope you’re able to heal from all of this,” I say before turning to leave.

I’m at the door, wishing things could be different, when she calls out my name.

With a racing heart, I turn back to look at her, the tears she was fighting staining her pretty face. I told her my name before getting sick after I was forced to hurt her. I wanted her to be able to kill me in her mind. Monsters without names will forever haunt a person. I know from experience how important it is to know who it is that caused so much damage in a person’s life.

I feel everyone’s eyes darting between the two of us, like we’re the afternoon matinee and they’re too enthralled by the fucking show we’re putting on to go refill their fucking popcorn buckets.

There’s judgment in every pair of eyes, and I fight the urge to look around the room to determine which of them are judging her at all. I deserve the blame, but I was also the one found strapped to the fucking bed and drugged out of my fucking head, with my cock standing straight up in the fucking air.

Maybe it’s pity I’m reading from the vibes they’re sending off, and that pisses me off even more. I didn’t ask for it and I sure as hell don’t want it.

She doesn’t say another word to me before turning around and going back into the room she was in when I arrived.

The woman who tried to block her path earlier follows her and I can see them having a conversation. But the distance between us is just too great in this huge-ass overpriced hotel suite that I can’t decipher the conversation.

The female Cerberus member comes out first, and my chest pounds when my blond-haired woman disappears further into the room. Was that her goodbye? Was calling out my name all I’ll get?

It will have to be enough, I suppose.

Before I can turn back to the door, she darkens the doorway. An uncontrollable growl rumbles out of my chest when that big motherfucker Kincaid blocks her path. I stand still, barely able to keep from crossing the room as I watch, but he hasn’t attempted to put his hands on her. She’s frozen in her tracks just by his sheer size.

“You don’t have to leave,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to make the conversation as private as possible, but the baritone of his voice carries across the room.

“Am I free to go?”

“You were never a prisoner,” he assures her.

“The fact that you wouldn’t let me leave and didn’t provide me with a phone to call my sister proves otherwise.”

I may end up killing the fucking lot of them. I look around the room, committing every fucking face to memory. I meet the challenge in several of the men’s eyes, as if they’ll be waiting for me to show up. My blood starts to boil. Although I didn’t plan on dying today, it’s starting to seem like as good a day as any other.

“Can I go with you?”

I snap my eyes to her, watching as she pulls a zippered hoodie tighter around her middle.

God, I need to tell her no, but how? How do I not give her everything she’d ever ask of me, considering the things I took from her?

I nod, my mouth refusing to work in the moment.

She follows right behind me, and I don’t know if I’m the lucky one in avoiding a fight or if the assholes we leave behind are lucky that they didn’t push me harder. No one says a word as we walk toward the elevator, but Kincaid is staring at the both of us when we turn to face the front of the car. He looks disappointed, which I consider to be a fucking egotistical reach as far as his connection to either of us are concerned.

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