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“I don’t have time for games,” I seethed into the phone. I felt Caylen flinch in my arms at my sudden change in tone. He didn’t cry, but his attention was no longer on his sleeping mother. He watched me now with uncertainty in his father’s eyes. It should have been enough to make me hate him, but the connection he shared with his mother drew me to him.
“I trust you’ve made your decision then?”
I stared into Caylen’s eyes and didn’t hesitate. “When and where?”
“On a night of my choosing, my men will escort Ms. Ross and her child from your home to an undisclosed location. They will release your book to you once they are safely out of your gates with Ms. Ross.”
“How do you know—”
“I know everything about this state, Mr. Knight. It’s my job,” he reminded unnecessarily. “We wouldn’t want your family’s lovely estate tarnished with blood because you tried to double cross me, would we?”
His threat didn’t hit its mark, but I made sure mine would. “Make no mistake, the blood that will cover my walls won’t be my own. Sleep tight, Senator… but you better leave one eye open. You never know what’s hiding under the bed.”
I ended the call and put Caylen back in his crib. He’d started to fuss, and I knew it was me who had upset him. Before I walked away, I covered him with a blanket. “Time for bed, kid.”
It was a few minutes before he finally gave in and slept. I slid into bed and made the split decision to pull Mian close until her front was flush with mine. Her eyes opened just a crack, and her unfocused green eyes found me in the dark. There was a moment of clarity before her eyes drifted shut once more and her body relaxed against mine. I listened to her breathing before I touched my lips to her ear and whispered.Chapter ThirteenMIAN“YOU WANT ME to fight this war to keep you? So be it.”
I’d heard the words Angel spoke to me when he thought I was sleeping. I had woken up when I felt arms close around me and a sudden flame of heat as he molded our bodies together. Even though I’d been in a fog of lethargy, I knew it had been Angel holding me. I should have kicked him out of bed, but the safety he offered had been too tempting.
But then he’d whispered those words to me, and I knew I was still living in his illusion.
Now it was morning. Angel was fast asleep. I was able to slip out of his arms and bed without waking him. I was surprised to find the crib I recognized from Art’s home set up only a few feet from the bed. But this was definitely not Art’s home. The large room I unknowingly spent the night in surpassed the wealth and extravagance of his home.
We were back at the Knight estate.
It was a far reach from the dangers hunting me in Chicago, but it was also a far reach from escape. The land Angel now lived on stretched too far to run. On foot, I’d be caught before I made it off.
Shaking off the fear that I’d never escape, I plastered on a smile for my son that fell once I found the crib empty. I didn’t panic. Insanity disguising itself as reason convinced me that Angel wouldn’t hurt Caylen.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep us apart again.
As furtively as I could, I moved to the door. Angel didn’t stir, and his breathing remained even as he slept. Fear that he could be faking it, as I did last night when his threat seeped into my skin and filled my blood with hate, made me pause with my hand over the knob. I waited only a second before making my decision and sneaking from the room. I stood in the middle of the empty hallway wondering where to look first. Far away, I heard voices and then the unmistakable sound of Caylen’s babble. The voices grew louder as I moved closer to the double doors at the end of the hall. I finally reached a set of double doors that were closed. On the other side, I could hear the amused voices of Lucas and Z as they coaxed Caylen into walking.
My hand had only closed around the knob ready to push inside when another hand stronger than mine closed around my wrist and dragged me away.
“What are you doing?” I hissed when Angel turned me to face him.
“You surprised me.” I could hear as much in his tone as he spoke. “I thought you were going to run.”
“Not without my son.” He looked over my shoulder at the closed doors. I expected him to let me go. Instead, he dragged me back to the room I’d spent the night in with him. “Let go of me, Angel. I learned to walk when I was ten months old. I don’t need your help.” I tugged to free my wrist, but he only tightened his grip. When we reached the bedroom, he pulled me inside before pulling out a key and locking the door from the inside. I rubbed my wrist over the red mark he had left behind.
