Tyler (Blue Halo Book 6)
Tyler: Chapter 13

Tyler kept a hand on Emerson’s thigh the entire drive to her place. Things had changed between them. Shifted. He’d felt this pull to her since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, but after last night, it was stronger. And the fear he felt for her because of her brother was now tenfold.

The way Levi had looked at her in the grocery store played on a loop in his head. With wild possession. Like she belonged to him—and he wouldn’t stop until he had her.

Blake followed close behind them, but Tyler still had this knot in his gut.

He flicked a quick glance her way.

She’d woken in his arms, a smile on her face. He’d almost expected the new day to bring back that flicker of hesitation he always saw in her. The wave of uncertainty. But the smile hadn’t wavered all morning. Not until they’d climbed into the car. That’s when the worried frown returned to her face.

What was she thinking about? Her brother? The injured police officer? Or did it have something to do with the secrets she still kept inside her, wrapped so tightly she didn’t dare let the world see? Her words from the previous night came back.

There are things I haven’t told you.

After what had passed between them last night, would she finally let him in fully?

He gave her leg a little squeeze. “Everything okay over there?”

She gave a small start and faced him. His words must have pulled her out of whatever deep thoughts she’d been caught in.

“I’m just worried about him.” She covered his hand with her own, tracing a scar that ran near his thumb. “Where has he been sleeping? How has he been feeding himself?”

Both were good questions. “He didn’t look homeless or malnourished yesterday.” Scruffy? Yes. But his clothes weren’t dirty, and he appeared to be well fed.

“How’d you get this scar?” she asked.

The topic change was abrupt, but he went with it. “During a fight in the compound. Liam and I were sparring with knives, and he nicked me.”

Her tracing paused. “Did you spar with any of the guards?”

“We did. Less so at the end of our stay there. I think they started to fear us and what we could do.”

She gave a slow nod.

“Did Levi?” Tyler asked, curious about the man’s time in the project. Was it similar to his? Different? Was he part of a team?

It was a moment before she answered, and he just knew she was turning the question over in her head and trying to figure out the best way to carefully arrange her words. “He only stayed with us for a month after the project shut down, and he didn’t talk to me about what happened in there. I think he was concerned for our safety. Over those few weeks, I watched as his mental health deteriorated. It happened so fast… I asked him to talk to someone. He said no. I’ve rarely seen him or had a proper conversation with him since.”

She went back to stroking his hand.

He squeezed her thigh again, understanding why Levi had trouble adapting. He’d lived through Project Arma as well, and he still found everything that happened hard to believe. “I still think about those guards—wish I’d had the chance to end them when they were within easy reach. People who can witness the suffering of good men and ignore it…” He shook his head. “They deserve a special place in hell.”

There was a small tensing of her muscles beneath his hand, and when he looked at her, it was to see her brows slashed together. It took a moment for her to respond. “My ex-husband was obsessed with the study of human behavior. He loved to learn about what motivated people to act the way they did. He said all human behavior has a reason, and that reason aligns with a person’s experiences and belief systems. So, then, certain behaviors are usually indicators of issues and traumas.”

She lifted a shoulder, finally looking over at him. “I’m not saying that trauma makes certain behaviors right or okay, just that…I wonder what those people working on the project had to go through to get to a place where ignoring the suffering of innocent men became possible.”

He’d never really considered the lives of the men before they’d landed in Hylar’s hands. Maybe because a lot of people in the world had it tough, but not everyone used it as an excuse to hurt others.

And the men working for Arma had stolen his last moments with his mother. Possibly even indirectly caused her death. Certainly, by keeping him hostage, they’d contributed to the pain she’d endured before her death.

That was an agony he’d carry forever.

So, giving forgiveness to men who neither asked for nor deserved it? No. All he could offer in terms of kindness was a quick death.

Emerson probably didn’t want to hear his thoughts on the matter, though. So instead, he smiled gently and rubbed his hand over her knee. “Are you trying to make me a better person or something?”

The first real smile since they’d climbed into the car touched her lips. “Not possible.”

When they reached the cabin, Tyler kept her close as they walked up to the door. He continuously scanned the woods around them, almost expecting her stepbrother to be there. Waiting.

When he unlocked the door, Emerson started forward, but he moved an arm around her body, touching her hip, halting her. Then he listened. For movement. Heartbeats. Breaths. There was only silence.

“It’s clear.” He lowered his hand.

She blew out a loud breath. “I was so sure there’d be some kind of note or something. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not.”

When they reached the living room, he tugged her into his chest, loving how she softened against him and fit so perfectly. Every time he touched her, any resistance to what they had melted away. “Let’s go with relief. We’ll replace him regardless.”

She ran her hands over the planes of his chest, and when her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, he growled before crashing his mouth onto hers.

The kiss was raw and uninhibited. It was everything he needed it to be after last night. Their tongues melded, and both their hearts pounded loudly in his ears. When they finally separated, her grin almost undid him.

“I like you,” she hummed.

Like? He was way beyond that. “You own me.”

The heat in her eyes turned to fire, but in the depths of the fire there was something else. Something he didn’t want to name.

Before he could question it, she stepped away. “I’m going to have a quick shower, put on some fresh clothes, then pack some stuff.”

“Need any help?”

She shoved his chest lightly. “Absolutely not. We’d never leave this place.”

She wasn’t wrong.

With a final smile, she disappeared into the bathroom. The second she was gone, he whipped out his phone.

Blake answered immediately. “Hey.”

Tyler moved over to the window, spotting Blake’s car not far from his. “All clear out there?”

There was the sound of wind over the line. “Just parked. Not a person in sight.”

“Shit. I want him away from her, but I also want—”

“Him caught. I know, brother. I’m with you on that one.”

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I appreciate the backup.”

“You got it. Before you go, there’s something else,” Blake said, his voice somber.

His gut clenched. “What?”

“The officer from the grocery store survived the night, but he’s got a bad infection from the wound. Things aren’t looking good.”

Jesus. He scrubbed a hand over his face. If he didn’t pull through, Emerson would be devastated that her stepbrother had killed someone.

“Thanks for letting me know, Blake.”

As he hung up, his gaze caught on the open door to the spare bedroom. Her art room. He could just make out a painting on her easel.

Without thought, he moved into the room. His gaze scanned the painting. It was an elderly couple in a loving embrace. Probably the commissioned piece she’d been working on. The expressions on their faces…love. Devotion. Loyalty.

She was good. The image had heart. She’d captured so much in her intricate lines and shadows.

His gaze swung to the nearby dresser, where she was storing most of her paint supplies. He lifted a half-finished piece. A heated breath hissed from his mouth.

Another man and woman, obviously younger, her back pressed to his front. His fingers circled her wrists in a possessive hold. As Tyler traced those fingers with his eyes, he could almost feel Emerson’s skin beneath his own fingertips. The woman’s chin touched her chest, while the man’s rested on her head. Neither of them had faces yet, but something inside him knew this was her and him. And they looked as right together in the painting as they felt in real life.

He was still smiling when he nudged it aside to see the painting that sat beneath this one.

Levi.

He ran his gaze over her stepbrother’s face, noting the small scar beside his eye and shaggy hair…but when he reached Levi’s chest, the smile faded.

Something dark burned in his gut. Like acid. Poison.

The small logo on his shirt was one Tyler remembered well. One that was permanently ingrained in his memory. Men had worn them at the Project Arma compound.

But not prisoners.

He looked through the door to the empty living room. The secrets. The hesitation. Her question about redemption during their first meeting…it all finally made sense.

Her brother hadn’t been a prisoner at Project Arma. He’d been a guard.