But Victor didn’t let her go. His hold tightened as he carried her out of that motel room. She looked back and saw a bruised and battered Roy—glaring after them. Glaring with the one eye that wasn’t already swollen shut. Cain was reading the guy his rights, appearing absolutely enraged and disgusted, but still doing things by-the-book.
The sunlight was too bright outside. The air too cold.
Victor walked her toward a dark SUV. He opened the passenger side door and eased her inside. Then he just…stood there, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered.
Hesitantly, her hand rose and touched his chest. “Victor?”
“I thought you were dead.” His voice was different. Colder. Raspier. “When I woke up, and the building was on fire and you weren’t there…I thought you were dead.”
“I was afraid you were dying in there,” she whispered back. “I tried to get you out. I’m so sorry…”
His head snapped up. “You’re sorry?”
Zoe nodded.
“You’re sorry?”
Once more, slowly, she nodded. “I wanted to get you out. If he hadn’t hit me with the gun, I would have—”
Victor backed away. He slammed the door shut. Paced. Paced some more. Tossed a glare her way.
Her hands twisted together. She rubbed at her bruised wrists.
Then he was marching around the SUV. Jumping inside the vehicle. He cranked it with a hard, angry twist of his hand. But then he stilled. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Zoe watched him.
“I let you down. I was supposed to keep you safe. Instead, I lost you.”
“Victor…”
His head turned toward her, and the shield that was normally in place—the guard that stopped her from reading the emotions in his eyes—it was gone. Fury and pain and longing blazed at her. “I was scared.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t get scared. I get pissed. That’s my way. But it was different with you. You’re different. You made me different.”
Was that good or bad? He made it sound bad.
“I couldn’t find you fast enough. Couldn’t get to you soon enough. And when I saw Roy…” He flexed his hands. “I wanted to rip him apart.”
She reached out and touched his right hand. Her fingers slid across the faint scars on his knuckles. “I’m okay.”
“This time. But what about next time? It has to stop.” He gave a grim shake of his head. “It has to fucking stop.” Then he shifted the vehicle and drove out of that lot with a squeal of tires.
Chapter Eleven
She’s not dead. She’s safe. Zoe’s with me.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding. Victor made sure that he stepped out first. They were back in Drake’s hotel, back on what should have been a secure floor, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
The area was empty, so he caught Zoe’s hand and led her forward. She’d been silent during their trek back to the fancy hotel, a trek that had included a pit stop at the hospital so she could be checked out.
She’d glared during that process, muttering about just having bruises, but he’d wanted to be absolutely certain she was okay.
A concussion. The bastard gave her a concussion. And she’s got black bands of bruises around her wrists and ankles.
Victor unlocked the door. He just wanted to get her inside and pull her into his arms. And what was up with that? He was hardly the coddling type.
He opened the suite door and ushered her inside.
“Slipping out at night, coming in long past dawn…This is hardly the way to keep a low profile…” At that low, mocking voice, Victor’s body immediately went into battle mode. He pushed Zoe behind him and had his gun out in two seconds.
Drake raised his brows as he sat on the couch, not looking properly intimated. Did the guy just always get guns aimed at him? Was that why he was acting as if nothing new were happening at that moment?
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Victor demanded.
“It’s my hotel.” Drake kept lounging. “When you didn’t answer the door, I got worried. Let myself in. You know, with the master key I have and all that.”
Victor grunted.
“Going to lower the gun anytime soon?” Drake asked.
Zoe’s fingers feathered over his back. “Victor, you know he’s not a threat.”
No, not a threat. But a serious asshole. Victor lowered his gun. Zoe slipped around him.
The mocking smile that had been on Drake’s face vanished when he got a look at Zoe. “What in the hell happened?”
“That bad, huh?” Zoe muttered.
Victor put the gun back in its holster. “Drake, it’s really been one pisser of a night.”
Drake rose to his feet. “I’m getting that.” His head cocked as he studied Zoe with concern. “What I don’t get…is where did you two go? I thought you were planning to wait for my team to find Michelle—”
“Cancel that plan,” Victor directed. “Just forget about her.”
But Zoe stiffened. “No, no, we can’t do that.”
“Zoe.” What now? “The woman is an undercover cop. She went off the radar for a reason. She wasn’t who you thought. She was just—”
“Using me?” Zoe cut in with a sad smile. “I got that. Trust me, I got it. But Roy took me for a reason.”
“Who the hell is Roy?” Drake asked, looking confused.
For the moment, Victor ignored him. “Roy took you for a lot of reasons. Two million of them.”
Her cheeks reddened. “He said it wasn’t just about the money. He said he had a chance to get Michelle back. You heard him—he was going to trade me for her!”
Victor wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “He’s a cop who went bad. The guy got greedy, desperate for a big pay day. He isn’t some hero trying to save the woman he loves. He’s scum and
you shouldn’t believe his lies.”
Her gaze searched his. “What if she is being held? What if her cover was blown?”
“No.” He tightened his hold on her. “Just stop, right there. We are done, got it? You’re done. You almost died.”
Drake whistled. “Heavy night.”
“You have no clue,” Victor snapped back. Then his voice softened as he told Zoe, “We came to Vegas. We looked for her. Now we have to do some serious damage control—and focus on you.”
Her lashes lowered.
“You should go…go take a hot bath and relax.” That would be good, right? She’d been through hell, so she’d want to relax. Get the blood and ash off her. She’d—
Her lashes lifted, and the rage he saw in her stare froze him.
“Is that what you think of me?” Her voice was soft. Tight. “That I’ll go all tra-la-la off and forget that Michelle exists? That she could be in danger right now?”
“She isn’t the friend you thought—”
“No, she’s not. She’s a cop who was working an angle.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “Just like you’re an agent who’s working one.”
Shock rolled through him.
“What? You think I didn’t know?” Bitterness was there, in her voice, on her face. “Come on, Victor, you have to be working an angle with me. No way you’ve been helping me out of the kindness of your heart. If I go by what the other agents have said, you don’t exactly have any kindness to offer.”
He should stop touching her. He should pull back. He should say…something.
“You aren’t denying it. But then, you don’t have to deny it. I knew all along that you were holding back. Using me. When we were in that plane, and you started talking to me about Luther, I realized you were holding back even then. It’s not just about getting him to cooperate, is it? It’s about getting me to work with you. With the FBI.”
“It…it isn’t like that.” Fuck, no, it wasn’t like that. So why couldn’t he explain it to her?
“Really?” But there wasn’t any hope in her eyes as she continued. “Here’s the thing…I knew you were working an angle. I still wanted you, though. I still fell for you. Got so caught up in you that I can barely think of my life without you.”