Without another word, Cain headed for her study. The door closed, with a slam of finality.
When Emma moved to the patio doors leading out to the yard, one of Cain’s guards stepped into her path and shook his head. She would have no tearful good-byes with her son. She turned next to the closed door of the study and let out a sob for what she was losing.
Because of the solid oak door to Cain’s sanctuary, Emma would never see the luxury Cain afforded herself, crying out all of her pain alone. Nor would she see the extent of the hurt she left behind when the front door clicked closed, locking her out of Cain’s and her son’s lives for over four years. All by her own choosing.
When Emma left, she had never feared reprisal from Cain, but losing four years with her young son had been a steep price to pay. Now she found herself questioning if she should have left. Cain had been very generous with her so far. But if she hadn’t drawn the line when Cain killed Danny for something he had almost done, where would she have drawn it? The price of staying in the mobster’s bed was just too high, and she had so much more to think about than just herself.
What had hurt the most, though, was the ease with which Cain had looked her in the eye and claimed she had let him live. That night and the words, “Just get rid of him,” were etched in her memory. They represented much more than a lie between lovers, but the essence of the person she cared for.
Cain’s calm delivery of her order was the factor that had made Emma face the truth. Her partner was obviously familiar with that level of violence, and her impassiveness showed her comfort with it. Emma could only guess Cain had learned such callousness at Dalton’s knee, since their relationship was so close.
She had never had the opportunity to meet Dalton Casey, but Cain idolized her father, in much the same way Hayden worshipped Cain. Because every generation seemed to embrace it as a rite of passage, the family would never break its cycle of malicious tradition.
Emma’s true nature gave her the strength to walk away, even though she still loved Cain. She wasn’t a zealot like her mother, but some of Carol’s lessons had taken root. She believed in the difference between right and wrong, but Cain believed the world revolved around her rules or, if someone crossed her, she could eliminate him.
Danny Baxter had broken the ultimate rule and dared to put his hands on Cain’s woman. At least, that was how Emma had felt when she was rescued, then shuttled upstairs like a child. Her opinion hadn’t mattered because, while she’d been wronged, the insult to Cain superceded her feelings.
She couldn’t stay with someone who treated her like a possession to be owned and killed over. She only hoped she wasn’t too late for Hayden.
Chapter Thirteen
“What the hell just happened to Casey?” Kyle had witnessed the whole scene through his high-powered binoculars from the trees near the road. In all the years he had watched Cain, he had never seen her so undone.
The two agents behind him were new to his team, so they had been stuck with the job of keeping pace with Cain and Merrick for their afternoon run. Hopefully the equipment they were carrying picked up more than just their own heavy breathing.
“We may have a problem, sir.” The first agent to arrive was leaning over with his hands resting on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
“That’s not a career-making statement, Simmons.” Kyle dropped the binoculars into the bag at his feet with a dull thud. “I’m not going to ask you again. What happened?” he screamed.
“She ran by the Rath place, sir.”
“And?” Kyle asked, waiting for the rest of the report.
“What Simmons is trying to say, sir,” interjected the second agent, who sat on the cold ground nursing a charley horse, “is Maddie Rath had the kid outside. Casey just stopped when she saw them. Then she came back here. We’re sorry, sir, but we weren’t able to keep up on the way back. We did get a little on tape before she got there.”
“Did Maddie see Casey or Merrick?” asked Kyle.
“Not that we noticed. She was still outside when we continued our pursuit.”
Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose and took a couple of deep breaths. “Don’t say a word about this to anyone else or you’ll both be investigating moose droppings in Alaska. Get me?”
“But, sir, shouldn’t we inform Ms. Verde?” Simmons was still breathing hard from his run, making his question sound hesitant.
“It’s taken me close to four years to get Emma Casey to this level of cooperation, and I’m not going to jeopardize that with something this trivial. That means keep your mouths shut, gentlemen, and head back to the command post. I expect a transcript of what you picked up on the first leg of your run. You two worry about that, and I’ll worry about Emma.”
Kyle turned his back on the two men and watched Emma just standing in the yard, seemingly lost in thought. Yes, he had spent too many years on this case already, but his career wouldn’t advance until he could justify the money and time he had invested in Cain Casey. He was just about ten years from mandatory retirement, and he wanted to spend that time heading up some other task force at FBI headquarters. The feds owed him that honor for his loyalty and diligence. History would gloss over how he brought Casey down, but his superiors would remember that he had. That’s what counted.
“Honey, where’s Cain?” Ross asked as the feed truck turned up the road. He watched it approach, thinking that the unloading would be a good excuse to spend more time with Cain.
“She’s cleaning up, Dad. She and Merrick went for a run and Cain got sick. Do you need anything?”
