Capture Me Slowly (Shattered 3)

No one but Rhys.

“I know.” He cupped the back of my head.

With my ear pressed against his heart, I let the steady beat sink into me. Tried to match it. But everything from the past came rushing back.

Every shitty moment.

The way that punk’s palm felt over my mouth as he snuck into my bunk when I was twelve. The way Castor use to backhand me. Often, and always across the cheekbone. The way the knife felt sinking into my gut when he left me to bleed out. It all came back. And I felt it. For the first time in a long time. I felt every moment, and I was scared to my bones.

“But you came . . .” I said against Rhys’s chest. Of all the times in the past I had called out, no ever paid attention. Rhys came in out of nowhere like a knight to save the day. Save me. Squeezing my eyes shut, reality hit and I frowned. Pulling back, I looked up at him. “Why were you at the club?”

“I followed you,” he admitted. No hesitation, just the simple truth.

“Why?”

“Because something is going on with you and I’m worried.”

“But that’s not your place,” I said, anger welling up. “I can — ”

“You can what, Emma? Take care of yourself? Yeah, I saw how that worked out. You’ve been passed out for over eight hours. How could you have taken care of yourself then?”

I bit my tongue. My eyes were now threatening to start producing water.

“What is going on?” he said more softly. “You said ‘he’ was after you and he would kill you. Who is he, Emma?”

I shook my head. “Just . . . leave it alone, Rhys.” I got up, feeling a little shaky, but I forced myself to stand. “I need to get home.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Swiping hair out of my eyes, I looked for my shoes. Rhys bent to pick them up and handed them to me. The gesture making him all the more heroic and me all the more off-balance and upset.

“What is your deal?” I asked him, tugging on my boots. “You have a need to rush in a save the day or something?”

“Is this your way of saying thank you for saving your ass last night?” he said in an annoyed tone.

Yes, I guess it was. But I was beyond emotionally drained and couldn’t wrap my head around what to do next. Every plan I had was falling apart. I was still in Manhattan. Mase now likely knew I was at this hotel. Hell, he’d doubtless seen Rhys and now he could be a target. I was bringing people into this when I needed to be getting the hell away — like yesterday.

I needed to regroup and focus on the short term. Get to the apartment, get my bag, and go from there.

“I’m not letting you go alone, Emma. Maybe you should call your brother at least and tell him — ”

“No,” I snapped and stood to my full height, which was laughable compared to Rhys’s, but I did everything I could to make myself as big as possible. “Adam stays out of this, you hear me?”

“What is this, Emma? Because you attempting to break in to my hotel room, followed by getting drugged at some club and saying things like ‘he’ll kill me,’ sounds pretty serious and someone should know.”

“You know,” I spat back.

“Yeah, and you’re not telling me jack shit. What do you want me to do?” He was obviously growing impatient. Sounded even a little worried.

“Just walk away, Rhys.”

His eyes were hard and didn’t leave my face. Like that option never occurred to him. Shit, he really was a do-gooder hero, but I was done being saved. I had already dragged him further into this than necessary.

“You don’t owe me anything, Rhys. Hell, you barely know me. So just walk away.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then said, “I’m coming with you, Emma.”

I sighed, too tired to fight. “Fine.”

~

I didn’t even have to fish for my key because the apartment door was already open. Busted at the hinges as though it had been kicked in. Something sick rose in my throat as I reached for the handle to push it the rest of the way open.

“No,” Rhys said sternly and moved himself in front of me, his left arm darting back to keep me behind him. “Stay out here. I’ll check it out first.”

I was just about to argue with him, but his glare made me snap my mouth shut.

He walked inside more quietly than I’d ever heard anyone move. There wasn’t much to check or possible hiding places to uncover. The floor plan was open and I chanced a peek inside. Everything was trashed. Scattered and broken. My duffle bag by the door had been rummaged through. I reached over and dragged it toward me. The little cash I had had was gone.

Rhys checked the bathroom and two bedrooms, then came toward me walking normally again.

“Whoever did this is gone.” I rose and he eyed the bag I was just going through, stuffing things back in it. “Your travel suitcase?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “He took all my cash.” Granted, forty bucks wasn’t much, but it could have been a bus ticket.

“Who did?”

I looked at Rhys, then around the bleak apartment, unable to speak.

“Jesus Christ, Emma. Don’t you get it? This secret of yours is putting more than yourself at risk here.”

“I know.” I hung my head.

“What if Megan was here? What if — ”

“I know,” I said louder. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here.”

“And how’s that going for you? It took me five minutes to find you last night. You’re easy to follow, you have no plan, and now you’re putting people I care about in danger.”

“I get it,” I growled. And I did. Hence the reason I was trying to leave. Adam, Kate, Preston and Megan were my only friends. My only family, actually. I didn’t want to bring this on them. Not to mention, they’ve all had enough scandal to last a lifetime, they didn’t need more.

If they knew what shit I had stored in my baggage? No way.

Rhys took one step toward me. His blond hair framing his face, and his eyes were bright, like the sky after a fresh rainfall. The man probably never feared a single thing in his life.

“I’ve tried being patient. But here’s how this is going to go. Either you tell me what the hell is going on so I can help you, or I’m calling your brother and carting your ass back to Chicago so he can deal with you.”

“No!” All my anger rose and before I could stop them, words rushed out. Fighting words that would hopefully make him go away. Far away. From me. “Are you still pissed because I stood you up and used you for a one-nighter? Get over it.”