Page 44 of Protecting What's Mine
I nod, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “I do.”
A smile spreads across her face, small at first, but then it grows, lighting up her entire expression. Her blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she whispers back, “I want that too.”
“Say it again,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
“I want to be with you too,” she says, her voice steadier this time.
“Again,” I whisper, leaning closer, desperate to hear it.
“I want to be with you,” she repeats, her hands sliding up to rest on my chest, right over my heart.
My heart feels like it might explode in my chest, each beat hammering against her touch. I press my forehead against hers, my eyes closing as I let the meaning of her words sink in.
She keeps saying it, over and over, each time softer, sweeter, like she’s weaving the words into my very soul.
And with every repetition, I know one thing for certain—this woman has changed everything. She’s not just in my life now; sheismy life. My heart, my world, my future.
I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but as long as I have her, I’ll face anything.
The morning light filters into the room, but it doesn’t feel like morning. It feels heavy, like the calm before a storm. Tory lies curled against me, her breathing soft and steady, but I can feel the tension humming just beneath the surface. It matches the knot that’s been twisting in my gut since last night.
“It’s getting late,” I murmur, running my hand gently along her arm. “We should get up.”
She stirs, letting out a sleepy groan as she stretches. “It’s still early,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
I glance at the clock and sit up, scrubbing a hand over my face. “It’s almost noon,” I tell her, but my words feel hollow as another thought crashes into me.
Something’s wrong.
Her father hasn’t called.
“Tory,” I say, my voice sharper than I intend. “Your father hasn’t called. He didn’t call last night either.”
Her head snaps up, and the sleepiness vanishes from her eyes in an instant. “Where’s my phone?” she asks, already sliding out from under the covers and scanning the room.
Good question. Where’s my phone?
I slide out of bed, padding through the living room and into the kitchen. Shit. “Fourteen missed calls from Dean,” I whisper into the air.
I head back into the bedroom as I hit send to call Dean. I hold the phone to my ear, waiting, the ringing stretching longer than it should. Finally, Dean picks up, his voice sharp and agitated.
“Ranger, where the hell have you been?” he barks.
“What’s going on?” I snap back, the tension in my chest coiling tighter.
“It’s the Summit,” Dean says, his tone clipped. “Malser’s gone missing. His team lost contact with him late last night, and no one’s been able to reach him since.”
The words slam into me like a freight train. Missing? Malser’smissing?
“What do you mean he’s missing?” I demand, my voice low and dangerous.
“His security detail found no signs of anything in his hotel suite,” Dean explains. “Bravo team’s already on it, but we’ve got no solid leads yet. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”
I glance at Tory, who’s watching me with wide, terrified eyes. “What about Tory?” I ask, my voice sharp. “If they’ve taken him—”
“Exactly,” Dean interrupts. “She’s the next logical target. I need you to move her. Now. That location’s been compromised; you’ve been there too long. We can’t take any chances.”
My mind is already racing, running through contingency plans and exit strategies. “What about her father?” I ask, my tone grim.