Page 19 of When He Defends

He didn’t knock.

Didn’t do anything but walk away. When she strained, Emerson could pick up the soft pad of his steps. He was leaving her. Check. That was exactly what she’d asked for. They needed space. She needed it. Emerson waited until she heard the creak of his door opening, and then her hand reached out, and she hit the light switch. Illumination immediately flooded overhead, shining down on her and the room.

Chaos.

Emerson’s eyes widened.

Furniture had been overturned. Her suitcase had been ripped open and the contents scattered across the room. Her clothes appeared to have been torn—or slashed—into pieces.

And, big, dripping red letters hung over the bed, letters that formed?—

You’ll die.

Letters that promised her death.

Emerson stopped breathing. Her eyes snapped closed.

Don’t be a delusion. Don’t be. I can’t—I can’t be like him.Her greatest fear, right there, surrounding her, but maybe, maybe when she opened her eyes, things would be normal again.

Her eyes flew open. Her breath expelled.

You’ll die.

The chaos and destruction remained.

He could have handledthe scene differently. Could have done a thousand different things instead of just gazing at Emerson like the cold-blooded bastard that he was. The woman had poured out her heart to him, and, in turn, he’d reacted by gaping at her. Had he really buried his emotions down so deep that he didn’t know how to respond fuckingsympatheticallyto someone? To her?

But by the time Gray had realized that he’d frozen, it had been too late. He’d tried to reach out to her, but Emerson had pulled back. Shut down. No, shut him out.

And letting her go had seemed the kindest choice.

Especially since he’d already screwed up colossally with her earlier.Should never have gone into her room. Should never have kissed her. Should never have gotten so close to fucking her.Why the hell had he told her how he really felt? He should have kept his need to himself. So what if he’d seen the same lust in her eyes, if he’d caught her watching him with her hungry stare as she nibbled on her plump, lower lip?

Yes, he’d understood that she was attracted to him. But he could have kept his own damn mouth shut. Ignored the attraction.

He had not.

The last twenty-four hours had been a real cluster of a situation for him. If Trevor the Jerkoff hadn’t interrupted Gray and Emerson…

I would have taken her, and there would have been no going back.Not for either of them.

He pressed his keycard to the lock. The light flashed green. With his jaw clenched, he pushed open the door, flipped on the lights and?—

What. The. Hell?

Battle-ready tension poured through Gray because his room had been completely trashed. The mattress had been dumped on the floor. The sheets ripped away. His suitcases had been emptied, his suit bags opened and…

“Oh, the fuck, no,” he breathed as he shot forward. But, the fuck, yes, some punk with a death wish hadslashedhis five-hundred-dollar suits. A punk who would pay.

Gray yanked out his gun as he spun and surveyed the scene. Anger pumped in his blood. Red letters had been spray-painted on the wall. Letters that dripped and distorted but were still clear enough to understand.

Leave.One word. Just that.Leave.

The welcome wagon had clearly come to greet him in Briar, Tennessee. He would have preferred a gift basket and not slashed suits and a destroyed room but?—

Emerson.

He was already running toward the connecting door. Gray doubted he’d been the only one to get an unwelcome visitor. The perp wasn’t in his room any longer, and Gray had a sudden,stark fear that Emerson had walked into her motel room just to find some bastard waiting on her.