Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 42 - Emma

"Bella," Callan said. "We're equipped to handle it, and even if we weren't, we have the means to hire someone who is. It's not your job to watch over us."

"How can you say that? Do you really believe I'd ever gamble with your safety?" I asked, my hand clenching Gideon's subconsciously, reacting to the dread and fear I had felt for weeks. "I mean, sure, you're more equipped to handle this than I am, but it would be on me if anything were to happen to you, and I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. You can call me stupid for the decisions I made, after all, lov—" I cut myself off, catching myself a split second before I finished my sentence; love makes you do stupid things. I'd almost confessed something I wasn't ready to confess, and my heart tottered in my chest as I wondered how they might've reacted to my admission.

Faking a cough, I retracted what had been on the tip of my tongue. "What I mean to say is, I couldn't ignore his threats. He's deranged, and I wouldn't—"

"That's exactly it, baby—" Gideon interjected. He stopped stroking my arm, but he kept as tight of a hold on my hand as I had on his. My palm tingled where it was connected with his, like there was a current between us. And maybe it was. His touch comforted me, and I think my touch calmed him—if only a tiny bit, because let's face it, Gideon was the angry type, and the fact that he was even calm enough to hold a conversation while we were talking about him, showed an improvement I hadn't quite expected of him. "—He's fucking mad," Gideon continued. "Forget about us, as long as you are safe, we don't give a damn about ourselves."

"You might not care, but I do. You guys didn't see how brutally he beat Oliver. How he ignored Oliver's pleas for him to stop. You didn't hear Oliver's bones break beneath the force of his fists. If it had been any one of you instead of Oliver, I..." My voice broke at the thought of one of my men replacing by Oliver. I squeezed by eyes shut, as if it could erase the image of Mateo, or Gideon, or Callan laying on that asphalt, helpless and hurt. I couldn't simply blank out the vision though; I had been haunted by it ever since I had gotten that video and seen just how unhinged he really was.

The kitchen turned silent. It was the depressive kind of silence that felt heavy with emotions, and it wasn't just stemming from me, but from the men as well. It was possible we all realized how serious this situation really was. He hadn't caused us physical harm yet, even though he'd done plenty of emotional damage. But now, the guys were finally aware of him—the exact thing he had warned me should not happen, unless I wanted him to follow through on his threats. I shuddered.

"Okay, let's just set it all aside for now," Mateo said softly. I could hear how worried he was just by the tone of his voice, and it was all directed at me. "We got a lot to discuss, but we don't have to go through it all right away. We'll eat, and then get Gideon's place ready for us to move in. Emma also needs some time to recuperate, and this is certainly not helping."

Eat, he'd said. I looked down at the untouched food on my plate, hiding the nausea I felt as I took in the fluffy pancakes that I would've literally died for a few weeks back, but now I couldn't stomach the sweet smell of it. I'd picked up two pancakes, just because I felt it was rude to only take one when Gideon had spent the morning making us what I was sure was a five-star breakfast. I didn't even want one though, let alone two.

Gideon let go of my hand so we could eat. I picked up my fork again and forced myself to take a bite, and then another. It was slow going, and I was all too aware of the attention I had on me as I ate. My stomach twisted and complained as I swallowed one tiny bite after another, each one settling like stones in my stomach.

Did I eat anything yesterday? I couldn't remember. I might've had some toast, but certainly not enough to call it a meal.

When I couldn't manage another piece of pancake, I slid the plate just a little away from me; the scent making me feel sick, and my stomach rolled.

"You need to eat more," Gideon commanded gruffly, scrutinizing my plate and the food left on it.

"I've already eaten plenty," I objected, though 'plenty' was certainly a stretch. I'd almost eaten half a pancake which was more breakfast than I'd gotten used to.

"If you don't want anything that's on the table, I can make something else," he said, but I was already shaking my head.

"No, thank you, but I'm full."

"Full? But you've hardly e—" Gideon grunted as he jumped slightly in his seat, and I caught the annoyance flashing in his eyes as he glanced briefly at Mateo, which made it seem suspiciously like Mateo had kicked Gideon beneath the table. "Fine, but I expect you to eat more for dinner," he ordered, giving me an out only so he could reel me back in later.

"I'll try," I promised, but at the moment, I couldn't stand the thought of a next meal. I let out a yawn, which was quickly followed by another, making my eyes water.

"Still tired, Sweetheart?" Callan asked. "You can take a nap or relax on the couch while we get things ready before we leave."

"Are you sure? There's nothing you guys need me to do?"

"We're sure." Callan smiled. "We'll take care of everything. But, if you think of something you'd like us to do, or something you want us to bring with us, just let us know and we'll handle it."

"Actually...there is one thing. The manila envelope with the pictures and evidence. I don't feel comfortable leaving it at home."

"I already brought it from your apartment," Mateo informed me. "It's at the kitchen island."

Wow, the guys really think of everything. The thought made my shoulders sag in relief, like some of the tension had just evaporated. I'd been holding myself together by willpower alone, and my strength was leaving me all too quickly, maybe because I knew I was in safe hands. It didn't feel like everything was only on me anymore—I had someone to lean on now, and it was doing wonders for my tense muscles.

"Thank you." I gave him a smile—there was a lot of that going around here, and I wasn't used to it. "I really appreciate it."

"There's absolutely nothing to thank me for, Gorgeous. I'll do anything for you." The way he'd said it made me think he really meant it, and as dead on my feet and mentally exhausted as I was, it made me come just a little bit more alive, causing butterflies to tickle inside my belly.

Before I went ahead to the living room, I turned towards Gideon. "What about my phone? I can go a few days without one, but my parents should have a way to contact me."

"We'll get you a new one before we head to my place. Until your phone's been checked, it won't be safe to use, and especially not safe to take with us." I was just about to object to them buying me a new phone, but Gideon cut me off before I could even open my mouth. "And even then, your stalker still has your number, and he'll continue to contact you as long as you have it. We'll at least be able to control who has access to your new number, and we'll make sure it's private."

Well...I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I simply nodded begrudgingly in agreement which caused a very slight twitch on the corner of his lips in amusement. They knew I wasn't the biggest fan of being spent money on, but damn it if they weren't enjoying my defeat. I was stubborn as all hell, but if I put my will against either of these men? I already knew I wouldn't win. It would've been like a toddler fighting against an MMA fighter, useless, and right now, I didn't much care to fight.

As I made my way to the couch, there was one thought that played on repeat. I was finally back with my men, but at what cost?