#wrong from right

Walsh continued to rock his hips into her, murmuring about what he was going to do once Killian got here, how he was going to shoot him, and that all Killian was going to see in his final moments was her, coming on Walsh’s cock.

She wanted to tell him that wasn’t going to happen, that Killian was going to kill him, and if he didn’t, she would.

But she didn’t.

She let him carry on touching her.

She let him thrust against her backside and tease her nipple with the barrel of his gun. Her fists clenched at her sides because she couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. She couldn’t fight any more. She couldn’t make her son an orphan and she should have thought of that sooner. She let it happen.

And then, with an almighty crash, the enormous wooden doors burst open. The bar holding it shut splintered and fell by the wayside as the huge wooden panels shook with the force of the battering ram.

Emma’s eyes snapped open as the women in the benches screamed.

Killian stood in the middle of the open doorway. His expression was thunderous as he took in the scene before him.

“Let her go, Ozman!”

Behind her, Emma felt Walsh move, releasing her, pushing down on her shoulder as he rose to his feet.

“No, I’m going to make you watch as I make her mine! Your last moments will be you realising that you can’t save her!”

“Like hell I can’t!” Killian shouted back, raising his gun to show Walsh he was armed. “How about it, Walsh, one bullet each?”

With a snarl, Walsh raised the gun in his hand, and Emma saw what gun it was. A Glock 26, which she knew only held ten rounds, and he had not reloaded.

She kicked out at him and, in his surprise, he squeezed the trigger just enough that his last shot rang out through the room and embedded itself in the wall.

“NO!” he screamed, and Killian didn’t hesitate.

Emma watched as he squeezed the trigger of his own gun, but he didn’t just do it once. He kept on pulling the trigger, and Emma flinched as she felt the spray of Walsh’s blood hitting her skin.

Killian let the fury pour through him as he kept firing; Walsh’s body not having time to fall as he fired until the bangs became clicks and he watched as Walsh crumpled to the floor, gargling screams filling the room.

He took a couple of steps forward, stopping short when he saw the way Emma was trembling on the floor.

“Swan?” he said, his voice low, careful not to startle her.

“Princess?” Walsh rasped, coughing up blood, reaching for Emma’s leg, bloodied fingers snatching at the hem of her trousers.

With a feral, desperate snarl, she kicked out at him, her heel connecting with his face and breaking his nose. She curled in on herself then, with Ozman no longer touching her, trying to cover herself with her arms, her entire body shaking.

“Emma.”

She flinched, and he thought his heart might break.

“Emma, please look at me,” Killian pleaded.

She dragged her gaze off the floor, and the look in her eyes told him she didn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Killian?” she whispered, her voice a hoarse, timid, squeak.

“It’s alright, Emma, it’s over,” he said, dropping his empty gun and holding out his hand. “I promise, he’s not going to hurt you again.”

She looked over her shoulder at Walsh, who was lying in a pool of his own blood with his breaths becoming shallower and shallower. She looked back at Killian and crawled towards him until she could put her hand in his.

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her as she started to sob into his chest.

“I’m here Love, it’s alright,” he whispered, holding her tight. Over the top of her head, he caught Will’s eye, who nodded.

Around them, the SWAT team started escorting the women out of the room, and the paramedics moved in to attend to Felix and Walsh… but within a few moments both bodies were covered with sheets as they waited for body bags. Graham rushed over to Will with a set of keys and let him out.

Even with all that movement around them, Emma and Killian simply stood there and held onto each other.

Emma sobbed so hard her chest hurt as she used his body to shield herself from prying eyes while adjusting her clothing to recover herself.

At least this time none of it was ripped. Not that she’d mind wearing Killian’s jacket again.

She didn’t even have to ask for it.

She froze as his arms released her, clutching at the front of his shirt. But then the gentling tones of his voice settled in her ears, the weight of his jacket settled around her shoulders, his scent enveloping her, soothing her. His arms wrapped around her again and she leaned into him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Killian smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too,” he murmured.

This time it was Will’s wrists that needed bandaging by the paramedics, as the other ambulance took Ozman and Foxx straight to the morgue.

Emma had insisted that they check Killian’s hand because of the way he was holding it, even as he insisted he’d just put it through a hard day. So, while they checked her over, Emma sat across Killian’s lap in the back of the ambulance and carefully massaged his hand as the other one stroked her hair, murmuring soothingly every time she flinched at something they did.

It was nearly an hour before Emma let go of Killian long enough to hug her dad. She knew it was hard, no longer being the person she ran to when she was scared or hurting, but he understood and that meant so much.

“I love you, Pumpkin,” he said quietly, and she could tell he was crying.

“I’m okay, Dad, I love you too,” she said as she pulled back.

“Your mother and the kids are at the bar, when you’re ready. We can take them if you need us to…” he said, trailing off as Emma shook her head.

“I need to be with as much of my family as possible tonight,” she said with a soft smile, stepping back as Will came over.

“Emma, I…” he started, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

“Don’t, please don’t blame yourself,” she said gently as she hugged him. “He’d have killed you too if you’d been in there to start with, because you’d have tried to stop him.” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I would not have survived watching that.”

He nodded and looked down at the floor. Emma knew the guilt was going to plague him for a while, but he would get past it, and she would help him all she could. She did have an idea about how to help him a little more; she just had to talk to someone about it first.

- - - - -

The bar was quiet when they walked in, hand in hand, but soon the low murmur faded to silence, and a beat later that was broken by Henry.

“Mom!” he leapt out of his seat and had little care for obstacles as he ran across the room and threw himself into her arms.

“It’s alright, Kid. I’m safe, we’re all safe now,” she said, hugging him tightly.

Alice’s approach was slower, more cautious, and Emma was worried that she understood more about what had happened today than any of them wanted to admit.

“Emma?” she shifted awkwardly on her feet.

“Come here, Sweetheart,” Emma said, holding her arm out and Alice stepped into her embrace, starting to cry.

Killian stepped up next to Emma and wrapped all three of them in his arms.

They were safe, Walsh was dead, he couldn’t hurt them anymore.

- - - - -

Killian was roused from sleep by the jostling of the mattress; they’d drifted apart as they slept. Emma needed a little more space to sleep comfortably these days, not always, but it was happening more frequently now. Killian didn’t mind; he was happy if she was, as long as she was sleeping soundly.

But tonight, it appeared she wasn’t.

He shivered, realising her thrashing had pulled the sheets half off his body. If the movement hadn’t woken him, that soon would have. But more than the movement or the cold, she was talking in her sleep, her voice soft but the panic and fear in her tone clear. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, not sure if he should reach out and shake her awake or…

“Emma?” he tried gently.

Her mumbled protests grew louder, clearer, and Killian realised she was crying.

“No… Walsh please… leave him alone…” her voice was wrecked with desperation, and it made his heart ache.

“Emma, wake up,” he tried again.

“Get away from them!” she almost shouted, reaching for something he couldn’t see.

Killian had to blink back tears of his own as he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

“Wake up, Love. You’re safe, I’m here…”

“No… Please…” she sobbed.

Killian didn’t know what she was seeing, what horrific images her head was conjuring, but he could take a pretty good guess.

“Killian, no!” It was croaked, terrified and desperate, and Killian had to shut his eyes for a moment as he fought the anger that surged through him at the thought of what her subconscious was putting her through.

“Emma please, I’m here…” he said, grabbing her wrists as she shifted violently in his arms, holding her tight so that she didn’t hit her arm on the bedside table or headbutt him and knock him out.

Emma tensed, waking up with a start, Killian’s name a frantic plea on her lips.

“It’s alright, Love, I’m here. We’re safe, I promise,” he forced himself to keep his voice low and calm, even as he felt her panicked heartbeat through her chest. “I’ve got you.”

She was breathing deeply, her head swimming with the increased oxygen flooding her brain.

“Killian?” she whispered, a broken echo of the same way she’d said his name in the courtroom almost a month ago.

“I’m here,” he said gently.

She started to tremble in his arms and turned to sob into his chest, her whole body shaking with fear.

With her eyes closed she could still see Walsh threatening her the way he had in her dream, all the threats and promises he’d made coming true before her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he stroked her hair.

“It’s alright, love, it was just a dream,” he murmured, letting her cry herself out. Letting the emotions out as he held her, tangible proof that the images from her subconscious were not real.

Emma’s eyes stung from the crying, her lungs ached from the shuddering breaths she was forcing herself to take. Slowly, the panic, fear, and desperation started to fade.

“They’re getting worse, I couldn’t wake up…” she admitted.

“Worse?” he asked, pulling back to look at her, his forehead creased in confusion.

Emma didn’t look up at him, unable to face the concern in his gaze.

“I’ve been waking up before they even really start and going and making hot chocolate until I’ve calmed down, so I didn’t wake you,” she said, her gaze firmly on his chest as her fingers trailed through his chest hair.

“Emma,” Killian said with a sigh. Her admission that she had been keeping this from him hurt, and he finally understood how she had felt when she found out he’d been hiding his pain from her. But he would not get angry about it; he couldn’t push her like that when they were both doing so well with being honest about things normally.

“I’m sorry, I should have said something but…” she finally looked up at him then, and the look on his face made her feel so guilty she dropped her gaze almost immediately.

“But?” he asked gently. He just wanted answers, and to know that she wasn’t going to hide this again, just like she’d wanted from him.

“You’re already dealing with so much and,” she paused and sighed, “I was being stupid, and I should have told you I was struggling,” she said quietly. There was no excuse, not one that she could hope to explain. “I’m such a fucking hypocrite.”

“No, you’re hurting, and you didn’t know what to say,” he reasoned. “Neither of us relish the thought of being vulnerable, even with people we know won’t judge us for it.”

She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes.

“I was so upset when you… and I… I get it now… I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes flooding with tears again.

“Enough, love, please,” he said, cupping her cheek and wiping the tears away. “We’ve both been hurt enough by this, let’s not hurt each other more,” he suggested gently, holding her close.

Emma looked at him, with tears clinging to her eyelashes, and a small smile curled onto her lips. She took a deep breath, and let herself feel his warmth around her, his love radiating in his gaze.

“Okay,” she replied quietly, and tilted her head to bring her lips to his.

It was chaste, and sweet, and Killian pulled back quickly, running his nose along hers with a gentle sigh.

“Stop holding back, please…” she whispered, shifting against him to bring her lips back to his. “I need to feel all of you…” she said, blushing a little.

It wasn’t until then that Killian realised they hadn’t done more than cuddle and exchange soft kisses since the courtroom. He frowned and looked her in the eyes. She hadn’t made any kind of hint that she was unhappy that they hadn’t or expressed a desire to want to… but she’d always been pretty insistent that she knew the difference between Killian and Walsh and how their bodies felt against hers. But he had been the one who’d been stepping away, rather than her. Maybe that hadn’t been helping, maybe he had been holding back when he shouldn’t have.

Killian opened his mouth to speak.

“If you ask if I’m sure, I will be pissed,” she growled.

Kilian grinned. “I wouldn’t dare, Swan,” he promised. For a beat they held each other’s gaze, making an unspoken agreement that they needed to be quiet so as not to wake the kids before he leaned in to kiss her again.

Emma wound her arm around his back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she shifted against him, kissing him harder as her other hand reached down to start pushing their pyjamas out of the way. He helped eagerly, shoving the elastic waist past his ass, as Emma pulled one leg out of her sleep shorts.

His weak hand moved between them, thumb finding her clit, and his fingers slipped through her folds, already slick with her arousal as they speared inside her, causing her to gasp into his mouth. She opened her eyes when she realised which hand he was using and beamed at him before kissing him harder.

Fuck, if using this hand was going to earn him kisses like that…

“I love you, Emma,” he hummed, as he kissed down her neck.

“I love you too,” she replied breathily as her hand found his cock, already well on its way to hard but immediately spurred on by her touch.

He groaned against her neck and slowly rolled his hips, thrusting into her hand.

“Fuck, Emma,” he hissed as she squeezed him.

“I’ve missed this too,” she replied, pulling him up for a kiss by his hair.

He smirked against her lips and kissed her harder.

His shaft was hard and heavy in her hand, the silky skin smooth against her fingers as she moved her hand over it, twisting and squeezing and drawing as many gasps and moans out of him as he was out of her.

“Need you, please,” she murmured against his lips as she hooked her leg over his hip.

“But you haven’t…”

“I don’t care, I need to feel you, please,” she hissed, kissing him hard.

“As you wish, my love,” he said, drawing his hand back and helping her line him up, pulling her body closer and driving his hips up.

Emma bit down on her bottom lip to stifle her cry as he sank into her, not caring about the awkward angle as his thumb returned to her clit. She hooked her leg around the back of his thigh and rolled into him, kissing him hard as she wound her arms around him.

It was quick, and dirty, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t just as loving and caring as every other time. With their breath hot on each other’s faces, tongues dancing and hands caressing, the need to feel each other overtook everything else as they whispered loving words in the darkness, chasing their fears away.

Emma came not long before Kilian, crying out into his mouth, gasping for air when he groaned into hers, his hips stuttering. He stilled inside her, eyes closed and panting for breath.

“Let’s not wait so long next time?” he suggested with a smile.

Emma nodded and just held him close, pressing kisses to his collarbone as his fingers tangled in her hair. Suddenly she held him closer, holding onto him for dear life as emotion overwhelmed her again.

“What is it?” he sounded concerned, and Emma wasn’t sure if she was ready to face what she was feeling yet.

Emma shook her head, tucking her nose into the crook of his neck, fighting against the sudden overwhelming negativity. Fuck, how did she explain this, when his cock was still softening inside her, that she was still scared she was going to wake up and find that her nightmares were the reality?

She shifted, and he slipped out of her.

“I need a minute,” she said quietly, slipping out of his arms and the bed and heading for the bathroom. He heard the water running and sighed as he rolled onto his back.

Emma turned on the light above the mirror and sighed as she looked at her reflection. Part of her didn’t recognise herself. There was a haunted look in her eyes now that she knew had not been there a month ago. Not even when she’d been going through the stress and trauma of Walsh’s first trial. Not after his last bid for freedom and revenge, and she had to wonder what had changed. Could she bear to look at herself that deeply and have a hope of finding out? But she had to, because if she didn’t, how the hell could she even hope to be the woman that Killian had fallen in love with? How could she be the kind of parent that Henry and Alice deserved? If she didn’t try to work this out, she wouldn’t deserve this family, and she certainly wouldn’t be able to face them.

She turned on the tap and grabbed her flannel, dropping her gaze and cleaning herself up, shivering at the temperature of the water. Drying herself off, she pulled her shorts back on properly, washed her face once the water had warmed up a little, and then went back into the bedroom, holding out her flannel to Killian who took it with a smile.

“Thanks, Love.”

She took it back to the bathroom when he was done. Washing it out and setting it on the side to dry, she paused to take one last look in the mirror, giving herself a stern talking to with just the look in her eyes. She switched off the light before walking back to the bed. Killian was resting against the pillows when she returned, having rearranged the covers. She didn’t climb in with him, but sat down on top of the covers, legs crossed as she looked at him.

“I think I need counselling,” she said with a sigh.

“I think that’s a very sensible opinion,” he said, sounding a little reserved about it, but only because he didn't want to push her if it wasn’t right for her.

“It’s helped you, right?” she asked, and Killian noticed the way she fiddled with the hem of her top.

He shifted in bed and took her hands in his, noting how she smiled a little when he linked the fingers of both their hands. “Aye, it has,” he agreed.

“And I think we should encourage Alice to talk to someone too,” she pressed. “I’m worried about her, she’s…”

“There’s something wrong, yes, but I don’t think she’s going to talk to us,” he agreed.

“I think she understands more of what we went through than we’d like,” Emma suggested. “And I don’t want it to haunt her.”

“Like it’s haunting you?” he asked, unable to help his curiosity.

“Yes,” she said simply.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, his thumb grazing across the back of her hand.

“All the things he said to me that day, all those things he made me say…” her fingers danced across the palm of his injured hand. “The look in his eyes when I did what he wanted… In the end I just… let him do it. In front of a room full of people, I just knelt there and let it happen… I gave up. I’ve never given up before, no matter what he did, and this time I… I stopped believing you would come for me.”

“He was threatening a room full of people, including your best friend, and you survived. Hell, you made him waste his last chance at walking out of there alive…” Killian insisted, hating the fact that she was admitting that she’d given up. For Walsh to have driven her to that, the things he must have said to her, what he must have done in those hours of prolonged torment. “The truth is, Emma, you are the strongest person I know, and I wish I was that strong….” he assured her.

“I think you are… you haven’t given up on this…” she said, her thumb tapping the side of his injured hand.

“Because I could never look you or the kids in the eye if I did…”

“And you think I’m finding that any easier right now?” she asked, and he looked her in the eyes a little surprised.

He hadn’t realised how much she was struggling. How could he not have realised? Had he overestimated her strength? Was he projecting his admiration of her and putting her under pressure to appear okay even if she wasn’t?

“I’ve told you before, Emma, holding it together all the time is exhausting,” he said, his desire to mend any damage he might have done was immediate. “I’m only ever going to ask that you try and keep going, even if you have to drag yourself through the day bawling your eyes out. Let us be there for you…”

“I can’t put that kind of pressure on the kids, Killian,” she resisted the idea.

“I know, but they don’t like you hiding this any more than I do…” he informed her, gently. “If you don’t let them know you might need an extra hug, they can’t help.”

Emma let out a breath of laughter as Killian turned her own words from a few months ago back on her in the kindest way she could imagine.

“I think you’re stronger than me. You never gave up. Not giving up no matter what your reasoning is brave…” She let go of his good hand and threaded her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. “I am so proud of you, and so are the kids. You wouldn’t have gotten this far without being strong yourself,” she insisted.

“Thank you, Love,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I still feel useless sometimes.”

“And you think I don’t?” she sighed. “I would have given anything to have had a gun on me that day and shot him the moment he got up off the floor.”

“That’s not you, Emma,” Killian said gently.

“And I didn’t think you were an ‘unloading your whole clip into a man’s chest’ kind of guy…”

“You make that sound like a whole lot more bullets than it was,” he said with an amused smile.

“Sixteen more than he had left, and you made every single one count.”

“Always do.”

They sat there in silence, with their foreheads resting together for a while. Both of them were content just to sit and feel the other person there in the moment with them. Demons, for now at least, kept at bay by the other’s presence.

“I think I’m ready to try sleeping again now,” Emma said tentatively.

“Aye, the kids will be up and about as normal for school in a few hours,” Killian replied with a heavy sigh. Reluctantly, he unlaced their fingers and lay back on the mattress.

Emma shifted up the bed and slipped under the covers, tucking herself in beside him and pulling his arms around her. She pressed a kiss to his bare chest and sighed contentedly.

No more running to the kitchen in the middle of the night to drown her fears in hot chocolate.

- - - - -

The truck slowed to a halt, and Emma could hear Killian turning off the engine and getting out, feeling the vehicle rock as he shut his door. His footsteps crunched a little as he made his way around it and opened her door.

“Killian, what is going on?” Emma asked with a giggle as she felt his arm slip around her shoulders and under her knees to lift her out of her seat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him move her around. He helped her plant her feet securely on Terra Firma before taking her hands and guiding her towards the back of the truck, at least she thought that was where he was taking her.

He’d blindfolded her with a cheeky “Trust me, Swan?” once Henry was out of the truck and had headed into the Golden Arrow to spend the day and the following night with Roland and Robin. Emma was normally happy to let her son trail around after Killian’s hired hands at the ranch all weekend and only see him at mealtimes. But with everything that had happened, and Killian telling her they had ‘plans’ that Emma wasn’t privy to, they’d made other arrangements.

“Alright, Love?” Killian asked, dropping her hands and stepping up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder.

Her heart was pounding a little harder than she’d have liked; the anticipation created by the secrecy and the blindfold, and the way it heightened her other senses, meant that she was a little on edge by this point. “Yeah..?” she replied, a little uncertainly, wondering what was in store for them today. “The blindfold is going to need to come off soon,” she admitted.

“Understood, good thing we’re here…” he said, pulling back to untie the blindfold.

Emma blinked at the onslaught of sunlight for a moment, but when the world came back into focus she turned to Killian with narrowed eyes. He was grinning, but at least attempting to look contrite.

“What did you do? Drive around in circles for nearly an hour?” she asked with a playful shove.

“Forty minutes tops…” Killian protested, matching her playfulness with his own reaction, pulling her closer as he let the shove move him a pace or two, his contriteness vanishing when he realised he wasn’t actually in serious trouble. “I had to give Alice and Grace time to make themselves scarce, didn’t I?” he asked with a lascivious waggle of his eyebrows that had Emma rolling her eyes and blushing a little as she smiled.

“So, apart from wasting time on subterfuge, what are we doing that requires Alice and Grace to make themselves scarce?” Emma asked, as her arms slipped around Killian’s waist and she pulled herself closer and looked up at him.

Killian leaned in and pressed his lips to Emma’s with a contented hum. Emma tilted hers to meet his and wondered if he would be amenable to her distracting him from his plans, but then he pulled back with a sigh and a smirk on his lips as he shook his head. It almost seemed as though he knew exactly what she’d been thinking, and probably that he wished he could let her.

“Now, this was just an idea, Swan, so no pressure,” Killian started and Emma’s forehead creased a little in concern. “But I was thinking that you might be a little less nervous during Henry’s riding lessons if you felt less nervous around horses yourself.”

Emma froze, the smile falling from her face as she looked at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“You want me to ride a horse?” she asked incredulously.

“I would like you to consider giving it a go… but going near one would be a start,” he said with an encouraging smile.

“I don’t know, Killian, I…” she paused. She had been on a horse, once, at one of those faire things when she was a kid, and one of her friends had spooked it on purpose as a joke. They hadn’t expected Emma, who hadn’t even managed to get her feet into the stirrups yet, to fall off and break her wrist when it had shied, but she had. Emma had never gone nearer to them than she absolutely had to since that day, and logically she knew it wasn’t the horse’s fault, but the thought of falling and hurting herself like that again was more than she was ready to face.

“Your dad told me about the broken arm, Swan,” Killian said gently, clearly unsure about revealing that particular piece of information as his hand rubbed careful circles up and down her spine.

“Oh he did, did he?” Emma asked, not entirely sure how she felt about Killian knowing about that embarrassing story. But then, her dad didn’t think about that when he told it, and he and Killian had had years to pass this kind of information back and forth…

“Aye, a few years ago now, and I get that must have been terrifying and painful. I hope whoever was responsible for the horse was appropriately chastised for not keeping an eye on things,” he added as his jaw clenched a little at the thought of Emma, or any other getting hurt because of someone’s negligence. “The point is, that not all rides will end with a broken arm,” he finished, his hand still rubbing soothingly at her back.

Emma still felt a little apprehensive, and she looked down at his chest as she chewed on her bottom lip. She did trust Killian, and she trusted that he wouldn’t put her on a horse that he didn’t trust with her, but this was a big fear for her.

“Emma,” he said with a sigh, hooking a finger under her chin. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you that ‘plan C’ was riding out of here on horseback. With everything we’ve been through, I would like that to be an option.”

Emma frowned as she looked at him; that felt a lot like pressure to her. She supposed it was a little weird that she didn’t ride at all, when even her mom had learned the basics. She closed her eyes and leaned her head into his chest, taking in a deep breath, letting his warmth and scent surround her, calm her.

“Sorry, Love, that was uncalled for,” he whispered into her hair.

“But you’re right,” she whispered back, turning her forehead against his neck and relaxing a little. “I would have gone to pieces that day if we’d had to ride out of here.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You’d have handled it like a champ and freaked out later, but I would have been worried about you managing to stay on the damn horse…” he said with an affectionate smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Emma hugged him a little tighter, and Killian returned it. For a long moment they just stood there holding each other. Until Emma finally sucked in a deep breath and spoke the words that had been building for the last few minutes.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she told him quietly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you to do something you aren’t comfortable with,” he murmured, his fingers moving to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Like that would ever happen,” Emma scoffed, pulling back to smile up at him with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Quite right,” Killian replied with a smile, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Shall we?”

Emma nodded and stepped back, slipping her hand into his so that she could walk beside him on the way to the barn. For now she was just focusing on breathing. She could do this. Killian wasn’t going to let her get hurt and he wasn’t going to push her if she started to feel uncomfortable.

But when they walked into the barn, Emma stopped in her tracks when she saw Pirate tacked up and ready to go.

“No.” she said quickly, taking a step back. Ahead of them, Pirate snickered and pulled on his tether as he stepped forward to greet her.

“Emma, I know you and Pirate got off on the wrong foot, but…”

Wrong foot was an understatement.

When Emma had first met Pirate, he’d just escaped his pen and nearly kicked her in the head. It was all an accident, and Emma had never really been in danger of being kicked in the head, but then the next time he’d almost bitten her, and she’d started avoiding him.

“Without Pirate, I wouldn’t be here. He’s really sorry about what happened before, and he just wants to get to know you… Kinda like I did…” Killian said gently, stepping so that his back was to the horse, and looking imploringly at Emma. “I promise, he just wants to be friends,” he added and started walking backwards towards the horse.

Emma let him pull her along with him as he moved, still hesitant, but letting her trust in Killian win out over her trepidation.

Pirate tossed his head as Killian backed up towards him and huffed at the back of his hair when he got close enough. Killian grinned as the horse sniffed his ear, glancing at the dark nose before looking back at Emma and taking another step back.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but she took another step towards the horse, tensing when his dark brown eyes focused on her.

“Easy, Swan,” Killian said quietly with a comforting squeeze of his hands. Pirate’s head was now hanging over Killian’s shoulder, and the sight of them together like that caused an unexpected giggle to bubble up out of Emma’s throat.

Pirate tilted his head and huffed at her, and Emma pursed her lips, blushing a little.

“Hi Pirate,” she said quietly, as Killian took another step back, now standing at the horse’s shoulder, his arms extended as far as they would go, and it was now up to Emma to take the last step all on her own. The horse whinnied and tossed his head, and Emma took a deep breath before stepping closer.

The next thing she knew, she was squeezing her eyes shut as Pirate huffed in her face, stamping one of his rear hooves. Killian chuckled and pulled her closer, and Pirate’s lips found her cheek.

The horse tossed his head again, and Emma opened her eyes, offering the back of her hand to Pirate’s nose. He huffed at it and then held still. Emma let the back of her fingers brush down over the velvety nose, a soft smile spreading slowly onto her lips.

“I told you he likes you,” Killian said softly, reaching round with his now free hand to pat the horse on the neck.

“You did…” she agreed, letting her fingers run all the way down Pirate’s nose.

“Ready to get on him?” Killian asked with a smile.

Emma opened her mouth, suddenly unsure, but Pirate stamped a hoof again and nudged her encouragingly.

“So much for no pressure, huh?” She teased with a smile as she looked back at Killian. With a swallow and a nod, she gave Pirate a pat on the cheek and stepped back. “Alright, you’re going to have to remind me how this works…” she said resolutely. She was damn well going to push past this silly illogical fear.

Killian took a step towards her and hooked his fingers under her chin, kissing her solidly and taking her a little by surprise.

She was grinning when he pulled back, but her eyes showed her confusion. Killian shrugged.

“You’re pretty hot when you’re so determined,” he explained.

Emma laughed and leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll be even hotter when I’m up on that horse though, right?”

“Aye, Love,” he said with a salacious grin and guided her round him so that she stood by the saddle with him at the horse’s shoulder.

The stallion was enormous. There was no other way to describe him. Emma’s head barely came up to his withers, and she swallowed nervously as her eyes took in the parts of the saddle she needed to try and grab onto, before frowning at the stirrup, which was definitely too high for her to put her foot into.

“Aye, he’s almost too big for me to ride, but he’s clever and gentler than he looks.” Killian said, taking in the way she was looking at Pirate like a mountain she had to climb. He grinned and knelt down in front of her on one knee, patting his thigh. In times gone by, he would have laced his fingers together and lifted her high enough without a second thought. But while his hand was doing better than anyone could have hoped, he still had to be careful. He couldn’t bear the same kind of weight as before, he had less dexterity still and in the cold it ached.

Emma raised an eyebrow at the position he’d assumed to help her up and grinned.

“Enjoying it down there?” she teased with a smile.

“Get on the horse, Swan,” he said, his voice firm but with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

Emma took a deep breath and reached up to grip the saddle, using it to support her as she stepped up onto his leg.

From here, she could just about get her foot in the stirrup, and the moment her weight was in it, Killian was standing up and putting his hand on her ass to give her a push. That made her giggle again, and it was only his support and the fact that her chest was already partway over the saddle that had her manage to continue her upward movement and swing her leg over the saddle. She settled herself into the leather, tucking her feet into the stirrups and wrapping her fingers around the reins.

“Couldn’t resist the excuse to grab my ass, huh?” she asked, looking down at him with a smile.

“What can I say, Swan? You do have a particularly delectable one…” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her thigh as his hand rested over her own tense ones.

Emma’s breath caught in her throat at the way he was looking up at her, the admiration in his eyes, and it was then that she realised she was sitting on the damn horse. Apart from the tension in her hands, she wasn’t panicking and Pirate had barely shifted beneath her. With the laughter and the cheeky comments, Killian had successfully distracted her from the fear that had been churning in her gut less than a minute ago.

She swallowed nervously and offered him a sheepish smile.

“You were right, Love, you are hotter up on that horse,” he said with a smile, his fingers playing up and down the back of her calf.

Emma’s muscles trembled a little in response, and her eyelids fluttered before she shifted in the saddle and adjusted her grip on the reins.

“Are you trying some kind of mental conditioning tactic on me?” she accused with a smile.

“Is it working?” he asked, looking up at her with eyes that were just a little darker with lust, but the smile on his lips was mischievous.

Emma swallowed again, but this time it was less nervous. She could feel the heat building in her gut even from just that look, let alone what his hand was doing to her calf. She knew that if she hopped down off this horse and kissed him right now they’d be locking the ranch office door and fucking on the desk within a minute, but that wasn’t the point of this.

“Just teach me how to ride,” Emma huffed. Killian chuckled and moved to Pirate’s head to untie the lead rope from the stable door. He had to use a special knot that Pirate could not undo himself, as his horse’s Houdini ways had not changed even with Killian’s training.

“Relaxed hands and arms, keep your back straight,” Killian instructed before clicking his tongue at Pirate to get him to start walking.

They headed out of the barn, Emma tightening her core to help her stay upright in the saddle as Killian led them in large circles. Occasionally, Pirate tossed his head, and after a few minutes Emma started to feel a little more comfortable.

Killian spent most of the time grinning up at her with a mixture of pride and satisfaction in his gaze.

“Ready for the next step?” he asked after a while.

Emma chewed on her lip, feeling nerves rolling in her gut again.

“I promise, I’m not going to let anything bad happen,” Killian reassured her.

“Alright, what’s the next step?” she asked.

Killian led the horse over to the fence and tied him to it.

“Wait there, I’ll be right back.” He saw her tense a little, and Pirate tossed his head, snorting. “I’ll just be a minute; he can’t go anywhere,” he promised.

He jogged across the yard and up the steps, grabbing the saddle bag he’d left out and opening the fridge, stuffing all the boxes he’d prepped that morning inside along with a bottle and plastic glasses. He had a grin on his face and hoped that Emma would enjoy what he had planned.

“See, no problem,” he said with a grin, heading over to where Pirate was standing patiently. He secured the saddle bag, unclipped the lead line and then used the fence to climb up behind Emma.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow.

“There are some advantages to having a horse that can carry more than one person…” he said, shifting right up behind her, moving his arms around her waist and giving her a squeeze before taking the reins out of her hand.

“I thought you were supposed to be teaching me?” she asked.

“I figured I’d let you get comfortable up here first, and besides, if you were steering, I’d have to tell you where we’re going,” he told her cryptically.

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes but let her back settle against his chest as he collected the slack off the reins and guided Pirate out of the yard and into the wilderness.

Emma had to admit there was something uniquely beautiful about this, seeing the terrain from horseback and being pressed so close to Killian without any particular ulterior motive, although that was always a possibility with them. The way the countryside ambled by and she could see a little further and they could make easy jokes and be unconcerned by the time and what else they had to do that day.

It was like some kind of forced relaxation, and as she did so more and more, she realised how much she, and probably Killian, had needed something like this.

Just them, together.

Killian drew Pirate to a halt at the bottom of a rocky slope with a stream running down the side of it. He hopped off the back of the horse, leading him to a tree to tie him up and then gesturing to Emma to get her to hop down.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, curiously.

“Come on, Swan, you’ve trusted me this far,” Killian encouraged.

Emma shot him a playfully dubious look and pulled her feet out of the stirrups, swung her leg back over the horse and pushed herself away as she lowered herself to the ground.

“Alright then, lead the way,” she said with an almost eager smile on her lips. She knew that if he was being this cagey he was a little nervous, but he’d obviously planned this date meticulously.

“Just let me grab this…” he said, unlacing the saddle bag from Pirate’s rump. There was plenty of grass around for him, and he could reach the stream to drink if he wanted to, but Killian didn’t want him wandering off as he might be prone to do, nor did he want him wandering up the hillock to join them.

Emma slipped her hand into his when he was ready, and together they half walked, half climbed up to the summit, and once they were there, Emma looked out at the view and was in awe.

“Wow…” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Killian said from just behind her. Emma glanced back at him to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, having set down the saddlebag by a rock. “This is definitely my favourite view in the world…”

“If you say because I’m in it…” Emma teased with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh, I’d love to hear the end of that sentence, because any view is improved by your presence,” Killian replied quickly, stepping closer again and wrapping his arms around her waist from the side, leaning his forehead against her temple. “But this is one of my favourite places. I come here a lot to… think or… get away from things.”

“Yeah?” she asked, looking back out at the view as he spoke before glancing back at him. “I haven’t noticed you sneaking off recently…” she ventured curiously.

“Because I don’t want to get away from you, Swan,” he said gently. “This place means a lot to me. I’ve worked through a lot here, and I wanted to share this with you.”

Emma smiled softly, her hand moving to his cheek.

“I love you, Killian Jones,” Emma said with a soft smile. She felt him relax against her side, his eyes falling closed, holding her a little tighter.

“I love you too, Emma Nolan,” he replied, his words soft as his breath ghosted across her skin.

Emma turned her head then, and tilted her lips to meet his, turning in his arms as he deepened the kiss. It was languid and full of emotion as they stood there surrounded by the wilderness and the quiet.

After a long moment, they pulled back and Emma’s head settled on his chest as they both looked out at the view.

“Hungry?” Killian asked after a while. “I packed a picnic.”

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“I try,”

There was another serene pause that neither of them felt the need to fill, happy to just stand there and be with each other.

“I missed us having quiet moments without needing to worry, feeling like we could really enjoy them,” he admitted.

Emma smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, I needed this.”

“Aye, Love, me too,” he replied with a smile of his own.

“Yes, I am hungry,” Emma said, stepping out of his arms and heading for the saddlebag and bending over to pick it up. “I want to see what you packed!” she said with excitement.

Killian came up behind her and playfully slapped her on the ass.

Emma straightened up with a mock glare, desire sparking in her eyes.

“All in good time, my love,” Killian promised with a wink and took the saddle bag out of her hands, untying the blanket from it and laying it out on the ground for them.

Emma took the hint and settled herself on the blanket, kicking her boots off and stretching out her toes as Killian pulled boxes and tubs, a bottle and plastic cups from the leather bag. He popped open lids, poured them both a drink and then looked up at her with a grin.

“Help yourself, love,” he told her.

And Emma did. Chips and carrot sticks to dip in hummus, ham sandwiches… honestly the only thing he hadn’t packed were onion rings, but they’d have been cold by now and not very nice.

The conversation while they ate was light, superficial, and easy as they simply sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Light touches as they reached for the same thing, followed by soft chuckles, shifting closer together and leaning against the rock behind them accompanied soft caresses that built into deep kisses and lingering hands on skin, finding their way under clothes.

It was warm, and as they gradually shed their clothing, neither of them was worried about their voices carrying or being overheard.

- - - - -

When they eventually managed to get all their clothes back on they headed back down to find Pirate just where they’d left him, and the ride back was as serene as the one on the way out.

“I’ve been thinking,” Emma said, as they neared the house and barn again. “You don’t need to go to the hospital quite so much any more, and it’s obvious that you and Alice miss being out here.”

Killian hummed in casual agreement.

“I think it’s time we moved out here. I’ve realised I need some time and space that’s really away from work, proper family time. Ya know?”

“I think that is a wonderful idea, Love,” Killian said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, and she could hear the smile in his voice as well as feel it in the shape of his lips on her skin.

A few minutes later, they were stopping in front of the barn and hopping down from the horse. Together they untacked him and put everything away before Killian turned him into his stall.

“I’ve got one more thing to show you, Swan…” Killian said with a shy smile, taking her hand. Emma knew he’d been nervous about something, but now she could practically feel it vibrating off him. But she held her tongue and let him lead her out back to the round pen, where there was a beautiful palomino horse waiting.

“Did you buy a new horse?” she asked, thoroughly confused.

“Aye, Love, I uh… bought her for you… she arrived this morning,” he confessed.

“Killian…” Emma started, suddenly unsure.

“She’s gentle, intelligent, and if you don’t want to ride her, she’s good breeding stock and someone would pay very good money to use her for dressage,” Killian said quickly, wanting to reassure her.

Emma approached the fence slowly, cautiously.

Immediately the mare tossed her head and snorted before heading over to meet her.

“Hey beautiful girl,” Emma said softly. The horse blew in her face and Emma lifted her hand to stroke her velvety soft nose. “What’s your name, Gorgeous?” she asked.

“Officially, Symphony of the Saviour,” Killian said, coming up behind her. “But her previous owner called her Savvy for short.”

“Savvy girl, huh?” she asked the horse, who tossed her head a little in agreement. Emma giggled lightly.

“You save me, every day, Emma, I wanted to give you something that wasn’t… too much?”

Emma flushed bright red, both at the compliment and because she realised exactly what he meant. “Killian, I’m pretty sure horses are generally more expensive than engagement rings…” she protested with a snort.

“Probably,” he agreed with a smile.

“I love her, thank you,” she said, turning to press a soft kiss to his lips. “But I don’t…”

“Every day with you in my life is a gift, Emma,” he insisted, meaning it from the depths of his soul. He needed her to know how much he appreciated everything she’d done for him, to help him get through the aftermath of his injuries. How much he appreciated knowing that she wasn’t going anywhere. Buying her a horse was a huge commitment, but really it was just testing the waters.

Waters that he was now pretty confident in navigating; when he felt the time was right.

- - - - -

The yard was once again filled with laughter as their friends and family chatted and ate and enjoyed the autumn evening. All her friends had exclaimed over how beautiful her horse was and spent some time in the paddock with her. Emma had blushed and smiled shyly at Killian who’d grinned and gone back to tending the BBQ.

Emma had lunch with Belle last week and hinted that Will was interested if she was, and when Belle had smiled shyly, Emma had suggested she join them. So here she was, and the pair were sitting at one of the tables talking quietly but intensely. She was happy for both of them, and really hoped that they could make it work.

Now though, she stood with Killian, watching the kids running around the now horse free paddock, screaming and laughing and kicking a ball around with Graham and her dad, both of whom had quite a lot to drink. The former had seemed to hit it off with Elsa – who had moved into the apartment at the shelter – earlier, which was interesting. As he’d finished his last beer, David had joked about booking him for being drunk in charge of a pony and her mother had said she’d better drive or they needed to stay in the loft over the barn so the same couldn’t be said about him and his truck.

When the evening wound down, and their guests helped a little with the tidying before heading for their own homes, Killian didn’t have to ask her to stay the night. The house was hers and Henry’s now as much as it had ever belonged to Killian and Alice’s family.

With a smile, she drained the last of her lemonade and, with Alice’s help, went back to clearing up the mess they’d all made. Her hand rested briefly on her stomach, and she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her lips at the thought of what she was going to tell Killian that night.

Because Emma had found what she’d feared she’d lost when she dropped out of university nine years ago, pregnant, and barely able to face her own parents.

She’d found love, and she’d found home.

She was never going to let it go.

- - - - -

His boarding pass was checked again and he was shown to his seat, he popped open the overhead locker and picked up his suitcase by the side handle, but the wheel caught and it slipped in his haste. He caught it with his bad hand but grunted in pain, gritting his teeth, and trying desperately not to swear because there had been kids in the queue.

He took a deep breath, and tried again, using his wrist to support the case as he guided it into the gap. A hand appeared out of nowhere to help him, and he had to force himself not to snap that he’d got it. If Emma had been here, she’d have helped, and he wouldn’t have questioned it. He managed to smile at the man, who he noticed was in uniform.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, Sir. Fogg, first officer, I spoke to Little earlier and he filled me in. We’ll get you back as quickly as we can,” he said.

Killian was shocked and he was fairly certain it showed on his face.

“My great uncle was a Ranger, a good man,” he explained. “Of course I’m going to do anything I can to get you where you need to be.”

“I appreciate it,” Killian replied, reaching up to scratch behind his ear.

“Let the attendants know if you need anything, and we’ll keep you updated best we can.”

“Thanks,” Killian managed a slightly warmer smile then.

“I’d best get back. Try and relax, we’ll get our job done,” Fogg told him with a polite nod and headed back up the aisle.

Killian sank into his seat, mentally preparing for the hour and twenty minutes from take-off, let alone the half an hour before that happened.

“Hold on, Emma, I’m coming,” he murmured under his breath, wanting to be there so badly it felt like a prayer.

- - - - -

The news Walsh had made Emma find on her phone and mirror to the television had barely shown any coverage of their situation. Walsh and Felix were unnamed, as was the extent of their crimes. She’d endured more of Walsh playing affectionate; with kisses on the cheek and hands in her hair, Emma felt like she was about to snap. She was barely holding back the tears as it was, but much more of this and she wasn’t going to be able to stop herself reacting to him violently.

Will’s knuckles were white and his expression dark from having to watch what Walsh was doing to Emma. But shackled to the bench as he was, there was quite literally nothing he could do.

Walsh’s patience was wearing thin; his touches were becoming less tender and more demanding, which made them easier to deal with, but told Emma that he was close to the end of his tether. They’d been in here since before lunch time, and Emma was hungry, but she didn’t dare ask for anything. Looking around she could see that they were all feeling the toll of their captivity, and she was sure that this was going to get messy if it didn’t end soon.

The only reason she didn’t need the bathroom was because she hadn’t had anything to drink in several hours.

“He’s not planning to get out of here alive, you know,” Will said, breaking the stillness that had settled over the courtroom below the burbling of the television.

Emma looked over at Will to see that he was looking at Felix. She wasn’t the only one, either.

“What are you talking about?” Felix said, looking from Will to Walsh. Clearly confused, if Emma read him right she knew what he was trying to do, undermine their alliance, but Walsh didn’t work the way they expected him to, ever. She didn’t know if this was going to help or make things so much worse.

“What did he promise you?” Will asked simply. “Money, and a way out, right?”

“Quiet, Ranger, who asked you?” Walsh snapped, standing up, letting go of Emma.

Emma took the opportunity to put a little distance between them, take a couple of deep breaths, and collect herself, all the while watching Will.

He looked calm, considering what he was doing, driving a wedge between the two criminals whose alliance had been tentative to begin with. She knew Walsh had grown so desperate for his revenge that he didn’t care how he got it, or who he hurt to do so. He didn’t care what this other guy wanted, but he’d trusted a blind promise that wasn’t going to come.

“This is insane. Let’s just ask for the chopper and the money and get the hell out of here,” Felix said, walking up to the bench and glaring at Walsh.

For a long moment, Walsh stood there, looking down at him.

“I’ll ask for a chopper when I’m good and ready for it. I still haven’t had one of the things I asked for,” Walsh insisted.

“Like what? You got your sandwich while the rest of us are still hungry. You got your TV and insisted on watching the news to see if you’re infamous yet! We’re stuck, we need a way out. Demand one,” Felix insisted.

“I’ll be honest, Foxx, I’m here for one thing. I’m waiting for Ranger Jones to walk through that door…”

“What is your obsession with this guy?” Felix asked.

Will started to laugh. Emma shot him a look, but he didn’t seem able to help himself.

“Shut up!” Walsh snapped at him and turned back to Felix. “When he gets here, and he will, because I have her…” he pointed behind him at Emma. “I’m going to make passionate love to my Princess, while her Ranger boyfriend watches, because then, I will have won. I’m going to make him watch while I take everything from him, just like he took everything from me!”

Felix gaped at Walsh and took a step back from him, shaking his head. He turned away and ran his hand through his hair.

Walsh had a manic, excited gleam in his eyes again, and he grabbed Emma by the upper arm and yanked her out of her seat. Emma tried to pull herself out of his grasp, but his fingers were like a vice – digging into her skin, harsh and unrelenting.

“And you’re going to enjoy every single moment of it, aren’t you?” he said as he gripped her other arm and pulled her harshly into the barrier between them.

Pain blossomed across the tops of her thighs and Emma knew she was going to be horribly bruised tomorrow. She hissed, leaning back from him.

“Aren’t you?!” he shouted, and Emma felt his saliva peppering her skin as he shook her.

He snarled and leaned in, nipped at her neck, and then soothed the bite with his tongue. He licked across her jaw and up the side of her face with a moan.

Emma screamed with defiance, and somehow managed to wrench her arm out of his grip, and before she could think, her fury manifested in the physical act of slapping him across the face as hard as she could.

Walsh’s head snapped to the side with the force of it, and when he turned back to look at her his lip was bleeding. He smirked, his eyes glistening with malice. He released her other arm, but before that could register, his hand was swinging at her face. And Walsh was stronger than her; he hit her so hard that in her unbalanced state she was forced into the front rail of the witness stand.

“Emma!” Will shouted from across the room, but she didn’t hear that nor the rattle of the chains he was pulling against.

Winded and with her ears ringing, Emma fought to suck in breaths as Walsh seethed above her. His hand fisted on the back of her head, and he dragged her back against his chest by her hair. Emma fought to stay upright by gripping the balustrade between them.

“Play nicely, Princess,” he hissed in her ear.

Emma couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid, but she’d had enough. She didn’t want to play his games anymore and she couldn’t stand to have his hands on her for a moment longer. Yet here she was, stuck in his grip again, heels slipping on the wood because of the angle he was holding her at. The only thing holding her up was the arm he’d slipped around her waist.

“Now, you’re going to sit down, shut up, and wait for your boyfriend, or I’m going to shoot his partner. Understand?” Walsh continued in that same sharp, threatening hiss that made her desperate to run as far and as fast as she could.

Emma managed a small nod, even with the tight grip Walsh had on her hair.

“Good Girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck before roughly pushing her down into her chair again.

Her elbow hit the arm and she hissed in pain, cradling her arm to her chest. It was by no means the worst injury she had sustained at his hands, but in that moment, she felt something inside her break. She curled around her arm a little, shoulders slumping in defeat.

She wanted Killian to get here just so that she knew it was going to be over soon. She didn’t want to fight any more, hurt any more, live in fear for her and Killian’s lives any more, let alone waking in the middle of the night from a nightmare caused by the subconscious thought of what might happen if he got hold of one of the children.

Silent, broken tears tracked down her cheeks.

She could feel more than one person’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look over at Will and see if he was one of them. She couldn’t take the look she knew was going to be on his face when he did. The regret he was going to feel for what he’d said and the rift he’d caused, which had spurred Walsh to take the actions he had.

This wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t hers. She did know that, but she hadn’t made it better. She never had. She’d always fought, when maybe she should have just done as she was told. Killian had always stopped those thoughts in their tracks when they’d started before now, but Killian wasn’t here. Killian was somewhere in the air between here and Houston - at least, she hoped he was. If he wasn’t in the air yet, she didn’t want to think about how much longer she was going to be stuck in here with a man who was never going to give up on getting what he wanted.

She should never have insisted on staying; she should have left with Will. If she hadn’t, he might not have reacted the way he did, and all those people might still be alive. She’d have invited Rosa for lunch, and they’d have had cocktails, and she would have called Killian and gone and picked the kids up from school.

They would know by now, know that she’d been stupid and put herself at risk yet again. They’d be sitting there, waiting to hear news with her mother. Terrified that they weren’t going to see her again and suddenly, she didn’t want Killian to walk through that door. She didn’t want to risk Henry and Alice losing them both, especially not in one day.

She closed her eyes and a fresh wave of tears flowed down her cheeks.

No, she hoped Killian never came through that door, and that Felix and Walsh shot each other out of sheer frustration. It was the best outcome she could hope for, but she knew it was futile to hope that Killian wouldn’t want to do everything he could to save her.

Part of her found that knowledge comforting, the rest of her was terrified.

- - - - -

Killian knew he should probably stop doing his hand exercises, he was at the point of overdoing it, but he had nothing else to do. There was nothing he could do to help Emma right now; he was doing everything he could just to get back to her, and the clouds drifting past beneath him were doing nothing to assuage his agitation.

They were going as fast as they could, and the screen in front of him was getting regular updates from the second officer about their progress and assuring him that they were ahead of schedule.

He looked up as the flight attendant cleared her throat beside him, and forced a tight-lipped smile onto his face. His thundering heart and the tension that was borderline giving him a headache were no reason to be rude.

“Sorry, lass, lost in my own head.”

“No problem, Sir. Would you like any refreshments?” she asked brightly. Her tone made his head throb.

“Just some water, thank you,” he replied.

Her bright expression sagged for a moment with disappointment at his short reply.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?” she probed, sinking into her hip and dropping her shoulders back a little as she passed him the water.

Killian’s jaw ticked in annoyance as he watched what she was trying to do. He was so not in the mood for this. He missed having Emma by his side; her mere presence and his clear affection, even in front of the kids, plus the fact that they were travelling with kids, was normally more than enough to discourage this kind of behaviour.

Even if it wasn’t, Emma had developed some amusing, but subtle ways of marking her territory. Hand massages, leaning into his space to talk to one of the kids, brushing his hair out of his face, ordering the refreshments for the whole family without consulting any of them and getting it right every damn time, asking to borrow his jacket, moving her hair and adjusting her top to show off a mark he’d sucked into her skin, or the less subtle putting her hand on his leg. Once she’d shivered a little and he’d passed her his jacket without even thinking about it when they were checking in. The smile that had lit up her face then was worth every second of the stink eye they’d been given by the attendant.

“A bag of peanuts?” he suggested, with an exasperated wave of his hand as he tucked the water bottle between his thighs to twist the top off it with his good hand.

“Do you need me to open those for you?” she asked with a smile and a flutter of her eyelashes.

“No,” he said firmly, taking the peanuts from her hands and dropping them on the table beside him with a huff.

“Let me know if you need anything else, anything at all,” she finished brightly, as she placed a napkin and a plastic cup on his table, annoyingly unperturbed as she moved on to the next passenger.

Killian tore the bag of peanuts open with his teeth and tipped them onto the table with a sigh.

He didn’t even really like peanuts.

He ate them anyway, along with sipping the water he’d poured into the plastic cup.

It wasn’t until she came back to collect the rubbish that he realised she’d written her number on the napkin. He threw it in the trash bag with the peanut packet without a second thought.

If the way she stopped trying to catch his eye was any indication, she’d finally gotten the hint.

He’d never longed to have a ring on his finger so much in his life.

The revelation didn’t surprise him, not really, but it still gave him something to consider as he sat there. The hand exercises were less frantic now.

If they both survived today, and God damn it they deserved to, they deserved the chance to move on with their lives and forget the bastard who’d put them through all this.

In that moment, he was more determined than ever that this would be the last time Walsh threatened Emma. The last time he held her life in the palm of his hand. The last time Killian was forced to race against time to save the woman he loved. The last time he would hear her scream or cry because some despicable lowlife was trying to…

He took a deep breath as determination settled in his gut. He was going to get there in time. He was going to save Emma. He was not going to let Walsh walk away again.

One way or another, this was going to end today.

- - - - -

Felix was pacing across the width of the courtroom between the bench and the television. He was agitated, and the gun Walsh had given him earlier was now in his hand instead of tucked in the back of his trousers.

Emma watched as his fingers adjusted their grip over and over.

Walsh was ignoring him, staring at the television and huffing every time Felix got in the way of it.

He was close to breaking point, and Emma felt on edge about what was going to happen when he did.

She didn’t know much about Felix - just what Rosa had told her. He’d never been cruel, and even with his burglary gang they’d never been violent. The reason for his prolonged incarceration was simply because of the monetary value of the burglary.

Rosa’s reasons for divorce were simple. He’d spent almost their entire marriage lying to her about where his wealth had come from. Irreconcilable differences. Emma could see why. Rosa was good, was kind and generous, and maybe she’d been a little naïve not to have noticed anything amiss, but she’d been in love with him.

Once upon a time the thief in front of her had swept a kind young woman off her feet enough that she’d married him.

Felix couldn’t be all bad. She couldn’t believe that the man in front of her was somehow capable of that level of deceit.

He wasn’t Neal.

At least, Emma had to hope that he was enough not like Neal and enough not like Walsh that he would decide that this should stop.

But would he decide that before it was too late?

When the chips were down, would he make the right choice or the easy choice?

Emma had no idea, but apparently she wasn’t going to have to wait long to find out.

“Enough!” Felix snapped. “They aren’t going to say your fucking name, or mine!”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know you’ve kidnapped the daughter of the Ranger Captain, and that if anyone is going to keep anything quiet to protect his daughter, it’s him.”

Emma scowled, and Felix rolled his eyes.

“We’re just going to be nameless, faceless criminals because you chose the wrong people to fuck with, Ozman. This isn’t going to be a glorious retribution on your enemies!” he shouted, waving his gun around in the same kind of deranged manner Walsh had been earlier. “And her, what did she ever really do to you?” he asked, pointing his gun at Emma.

“Watch where you’re pointing that,” Walsh said calmly.

Far too calmly in Emma’s opinion.

“You’re the one who keeps threatening her!” Felix snapped. “Seriously, what has she done to piss you off? Reject your oh so charming advances? I’m not fucking surprised. You know what? I think that judge was wrong, you are insane.” He laughed then, and Emma shifted in her chair, putting some distance between herself and Walsh and whatever was about to go down between the two criminals.

“And I’ve played along with it because I was stupid enough to think that a man like you might actually have a get out plan, but you don’t, do you? He was right, wasn’t he? You don’t care if you get out of here or not as long as you feel like you’ve won! Well you won’t, and this madness has gone on long enough…”

His arm swung up and the gun pointed at Walsh.

Felix pulled the trigger, but instead of the loud bang they were all expecting, the gun simply clicked.

Walsh had given Felix an unloaded gun.

Walsh smirked and reached into his pocket. He pulled his fisted hand back out and then opened it, letting the bullets that had been in Felix’s gun roll off his fingers and hit the wooden counter one at a time.

Each clack made Emma flinch.

There was a long moment of silence, and Felix’s eyes moved slowly up from where the bullets had landed to Walsh’s face. He swallowed nervously and neither of them moved. It was like something out of the Old West, Walsh waiting for Felix to make his next move, fingers twitching as he longed to reach for the gun he’d left on the other side of the desk in front of him to where Emma was sitting.

He would never understand just how much she longed to reach for it and do what Felix had tried and failed to do.

But maybe he did, because it was certainly out of her reach.

Everyone was watching, waiting with baited breath for something to happen.

Felix turned on his heel and slipped a little in his haste to run through the gate, but Walsh, with a gleam in his eyes, snatched up the gun and took aim.

It was either a bad shot, or a good one; Emma still wasn’t sure of his skills yet, having only seen him shoot people at close range before, but Felix toppled forward with a scream, clutching at his leg.

Walsh moved quickly then, vaulting over the front of the bench once more and stalking down the middle of the room to where his prey had fallen.

“You should have checked the gun, Felix. I knew then you were a fucking moron,” he said, his posture relaxed, sounding almost casual as he looked down at the whimpering thief.

Felix tried to push himself away from Walsh, screaming as he aggravated the wound in his leg. Walsh laughed and stepped on his ankle to stop him from going anywhere.

“You could have walked out of here, Felix, with the rest of the men. I’d have let you go… But I thought maybe you’d be a useful recruit to my army. Turns out you’re just as useless as the idiots I worked with the first time I kidnapped my Princess,” he said with a sigh.

Emma almost felt sorry for Felix. He’d gone about it all the wrong way and now… Walsh was going to kill him. Or not… and Emma wasn’t sure which was worse. No one deserved the kind of agony Killian was dealing with everyday.

Well… She couldn’t say she’d stop anyone doing it to Walsh… but then did that make her as bad as him, or was she simply that done with his insane bullshit?

“Kill me then,” he hissed. Forcing himself to look up at Walsh. “Finish it!”

Walsh hummed, looked at the gun and then down at Felix. “You know what?” he asked, and Emma watched as he smirked, crouching down next to Felix. “I don’t think I will…” he brought the gun to rest on the thigh of Felix’s uninjured leg. “Beg me not to…” he whispered, the sound carrying in the otherwise quiet room.

Felix swallowed and dropped his gaze. “Please, don’t I’m sor…” his words were cut off with a scream as another gunshot rang through the room.

Emma gripped the arms of her chair tightly, her heart pounding.

One bullet on the bailiff, one embedded in the ceiling, the doctor, the lawyer, the judge. Two more on the men who’d tried to take the room back, and now two on Felix… Was he out…? Would he need time to reload…? Could she manage to rush him before he did…?

What gun was that? Could she even remember how big the magazine was?

Walsh pushed Felix onto his back, and a fresh cry of agony ripped through the air. He shoved the gun into his stomach. For a moment, Emma thought he was going to shoot him in the stomach.

“No, I’ve already wasted more bullets on you than I should have,” he mused aloud before pulling back, standing and turning away. But before he started back towards the bench, he turned once more and kicked Felix in the side and then the stomach when he curled in on himself.

On the bench, Emma’s phone started ringing.

“Who is it, Princess?”

“My… my dad…” she replied, her voice shaking.

“Well, do answer it, won’t you?” he said, almost sounding kind.

Emma swiped the green button.

“Ozman, what’s going on?”

“Just teaching an insubordinate soldier a lesson or two,” he said pleasantly as he swaggered back towards the front of the room. “He’s just a petty criminal, nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Is he alive?” David asked calmly.

“For now,” Walsh said with a shrug.

Emma felt sick. She knew he was callous, cruel, but to speak of how Felix’s life might ebb out of him before this was over…

“Which is more than I can say for Ranger Scarlet if Jones doesn’t hurry the fuck up!” he shouted, impatient anger suddenly pouring out of him in a torrent. “I will start by doing some very serious damage, and then he will die if Jones isn’t here to stop it,” he declared. He snatched Emma’s phone up off the desk and slung it at the wall above Will’s head.

To his credit, Will didn’t flinch at all. He stared Walsh down with a hardness in his gaze that Emma had never seen before. It was unnerving, but maybe Will was as done with Walsh and his psychotic stalker insanity as she was.

As Emma looked at her best friend, she felt the tears spilling down her cheeks. Will had been in her life since they were in elementary school. She was old enough now that a friendship that had lasted that long was rare, and she’d stopped imagining her life without her best friend years ago. Losing him would be as bad as losing a flesh and blood brother; it would break her in a way she couldn’t even begin to think about.

She couldn’t let Walsh hurt anyone else she cared about.

Desperation welled up inside her, but she didn’t know what to say, what to do. She should have paid more attention, if only she knew how many rounds Walsh had left in that gun.

- - - - -

The cabin crew held everyone else in their seats, letting him off first. The pilot and first and second officers were in the doorway to the cockpit as he paused.

“Thank you,” he said, his heart racing as he prepared for the sprint through the airport.

“Anytime,” the pilot said with a nod. Killian was running up the tunnel, through the door at the other end and across the terminal. He had to wait as he reached the elevators, and took the opportunity to turn his phone on. There was a message from Graham, an update from David, and Killian hit ‘call’ on the message from the former, knowing he would be the one picking him up.

“I’m right out front, blue lights all the way to the courthouse,” Graham said the moment he picked up.

“Great,” Killian replied, hanging up as the doors pinged open and everyone piled in.

His foot tapped in agitation as the lift moved slowly upwards. The moment the doors were open, he was walking, his brisk pace carrying him through the airport, past baggage claim, through nothing to declare and out into the arrivals lounge.

Every footstep was bringing him closer to Emma. Every heartbeat was a moment closer to seeing her again, to ending this nightmare.

Graham was just inside the airport door, taking Killian’s suitcase without asking, and heading for his truck. He threw the suitcase in the trunk, and Killian wrenched open the door, climbing into the passenger seat and dumping his satchel in the footwell before putting his seatbelt on.

Graham hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine, flipping a switch to turn on the flashing lights and siren before pulling out into the traffic, which hurriedly parted ways for him.

“Glove Compartment,” he grunted.

Killian looked across at him with a raised eyebrow, but Graham had his eyes on the road. Frowning, he opened the hatch and then understanding flooded his face.

He picked up one item and secured it on his chest and then picked up the other, weighing it in his hand. The familiar weight settled into both his hand and soothed his racing heart just a little. He didn’t feel half so useless now, and he now had the means to end this once and for all.

Graham’s driving was impeccable as they raced through the streets. Killian started carefully checking over his gun, taking his time with his already agitated hand to do it properly, as he recalled the last time he’d been racing to Emma’s aid with this gun in his hands. Finally he checked the magazine, counting the seventeen nine by nineteen millimetre rounds held within.

“I cleaned it for ya, needed something ta do…” Graham informed him over the sound of the sirens.

Killian looked across at him and studied him for a moment. Graham had always been a little more distant than some of his other colleagues.

“I don’t say it, I know,” the man continued. “But she’s as much a sister ta me as she is ta Will,” He swallowed, glancing in his mirrors as he took a turn. “Do us all a favour, kill the bastard.”

Killian was a little stunned. If anything, Graham was the least bloodthirsty of all of them, but to know that he was as outraged by Ozman’s behaviour as the rest of them… Killian nodded, his colleagues' support of his own mindset was all the encouragement he needed as a plan started to form in his mind.

The sooner they got there, the better.

Killian wasn’t going to give Walsh another chance to hurt him or his family. This was the end of the line.

But he needed a plan. He wasn’t so lost to wrath that he was going to walk in there without one.

- - - - -

Felix had stopped whimpering, just gasping for breath now as he bled out in the aisle. Walsh was back on his ‘throne’, his fingers dancing up and down the inside of Emma’s arm, making her skin crawl.

“I’m done waiting,” Walsh said, his voice low and dark as he pushed himself out of the judge’s chair and his gaze turned on Will.

Emma felt her heart still as the world around her seemed to slow.

“No, Walsh, please…” she managed to force out, her voice hoarse with lack of hydration and fear.

He turned to look at her, his movements slow and calculating as he seemed to consider. “No?”

“It’s alright, Emma,” Will said, sounding resigned.

She was blinking back tears as she looked between them. She couldn’t watch Walsh do the kinds of things he did to Killian to Will instead. She couldn’t go through that again.

Walsh leapt over the wooden structure around them once more and ripped the power cable out of the back of the television before shoving it aside. It wobbled on its stand and fell to the floor with a crash as Walsh turned to look at her.

“Get up,” he said, and when Emma wasn’t quick enough, he pointed his gun at Will. “Get up!”

Emma stood, hands shaking, and when Walsh crooked his finger at her she swallowed, her mouth dry, and stepped out of the witness stand.

“Emma…” Will said, his voice choked and when she looked over at him, she could see the desperation in his eyes.

“Hurry it up, Princess,” he spat.

Emma walked faster, crossing the distance between them in a few strides. She stopped in front of him, and took a deep breath before looking up at his face. The twisted smile on his lips made her stomach twist and she was fighting the urge to bolt for the door.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees for your King, Princess,” he said, his fingers grazing tenderly across her jaw.

She couldn’t breathe. What was she doing? How was this helping anything? Walsh seemed certain there were still bullets in his gun. She dropped her gaze, trying to see what make and model it was.

Suddenly, his hand was around her neck, nails digging into her skin as he snarled in her face. Her hands flew to his wrist, trying to pull his fingers off her neck.

“Do I have to remind you what’s at stake here, Princess? All of these lives are in my hands, and all I want you to do is get on your knees!”

Emma was blinking rapidly as she tried to suck in breaths. Will was shouting, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. With a frustrated yell, Walsh threw her to the floor. She cried out in pain as she crashed into the marble floor, her arms only just coming up in time to stop her head hitting the floor. The angle she hit the floor at forced all the breath out of her lungs, and when she tried to breathe in, she felt like she was sucking air through a straw. Her head spun, dizzy and disoriented. The world around her sounded like it was muffled by water.

It took a couple of moments before the voices broke through. Will shouting her name, panicked and desperate and almost screaming, begging her to move. She choked on the small amount of air she was managing to suck in as Walsh grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her knees. She seemed to have lost control over her body, unable to move her hands to try and stop him as pain seared across her scalp.

For a moment he knelt behind her, holding her against him, and the all-encompassing feeling of revulsion gave way to numbness. She suddenly felt like she wasn’t there, like there was something suddenly stopping her feeling, or at least making the discomfort fade to a buzz. His hands were there, but at the same time, she couldn’t really feel them.

“Take off the jacket,” he murmured in her ear. For a moment, she didn’t move. She didn’t have the strength, or she couldn’t make her arms move; she wasn’t sure, but her recalcitrance pissed Walsh off. He pointed his gun at Will. “Take the jacket off!” he screamed in her ear.

She didn’t flinch, but she did push her jacket off her shoulders and shrug it to the floor.

“Now your blouse,” he hissed, his tongue darting out to taste the shell of her ear. This time because her hands were already moving it didn’t take her so long to comply. She started to undo the buttons of her top, and Walsh swept her hair aside, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulder as the neckline loosened. “Mmm Princess, you smell amazing,” he murmured against her skin.

The hand not holding the gun groped her breasts, parting the material of her shirt as she undid more buttons. He groaned into her neck, and Emma could hear Will fighting against the cuffs chaining him to the wall, but the sounds washed over her. She couldn’t even see the women sitting in the seats on either side of the aisle as her vision tunnelled until all she could see was the bar holding the door shut.

It didn’t matter that this time he was making her expose herself rather than doing the job with his own hands, or that he was making her do it in front of a room full of people. If she was any one of those women, she wouldn’t be looking. Walsh wasn’t making any of them look; he hadn’t threatened any of them more than in passing when trying to get her to do what he wanted. She was protecting them, and she hoped that was enough that even if they had been regarding his treatment of her like one might look at a car crash, they were looking away now.

Her shirt undone, Emma’s hands fell to her sides again, and Walsh swept it open so that it hung on the outside of her breasts. He hummed as his hand trailed up her stomach, clearly intending to take his time. His hips rolled against her, and she could feel his hard length pressing between her ass cheeks. He moaned, his hand splayed on her stomach, pulling her back against him.

He nuzzled into the side of her head and hummed in her ear as his hand moved down, pressing her pelvis back into his as he rubbed himself against her, rocking his hips and starting to moan louder. The arm holding his gun wrapped around her waist and pulled her tighter against him as his other hand moved again, pushing her bra out of the way, and closing his hand over her naked flesh.

Was that movement she could see through the tiny gap in the door? Did she dare hope that something was happening out there?

Apparently, she couldn’t help it, and with that spark of hope the reality of the situation broke through the numbness and hit her full throttle. Her bottom lip trembled, she sucked in a shaky breath. She could not, would not scream. She could not, would not fight him. She could not risk him hurting anyone else.

Walsh paused in front of Foxx and looked him over.

“Fancy a payday instead of more jail time?” he asked with a smile.

Felix grinned. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m getting money and a chopper, but I’ve got some things to take care of first…”

“I’m in,” Felix replied.

Walsh snagged the keys from the bailiff’s belt and threw them to the thief. “Collect all the cuffs and stuff, I want to have options in case people cause trouble,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Emma, and shooting her a wink.

She honestly thought she was going to throw up.

“I do believe you are in my seat…” he said, turning to the judge.

“You are mistaken, Mr Ozman. I have no intention of letting you turn this courtroom into a circus.”

He pointed the gun at her. “Get out of the chair, your honour. I won’t ask nicely again,” he snarled. The criminal pulled back the hammer and approached the bench to point the gun at her head now.

With a deep breath, the judge rose to her feet and left her seat with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Now, you’re wearing my robe. Take it off,” he commanded.

It was all they could do to watch as the woman opened her mouth to protest before Walsh punched her hard, knocking her out.

“Get it off her, I have work to do,” he instructed Felix.

Behind him, Felix started to tug the robe off the judge, grunting as he turned her over to get to her arms as Walsh surveyed what he was clearly starting to consider his latest empire. Emma avoided his gaze, hoping against hope that he was just going to make his ransom demands and then get the hell out of her life, but it wasn’t going to be that simple, was it? It was never that simple.

Felix handed Walsh the robe, and he put it on with a flourish.

“How do I look?” he asked the room in general. No one responded. He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Nope, I don’t like it, it’s too hot.” He took it off again, and Emma expected him to leave it like that. Instead, he then pulled the psych ward shirt over his head and threw that aside, taking up the robe again and pulling it on over his bare chest.

He twisted and turned, humming critically until he finally decided he liked it and grinned. With a sudden burst of energy, he vaulted over the front of the bench and landed with a loud thud. He spun on the spot, grabbed the gavel and slammed it hard on the desk, making everyone jump.

“Oh, Princess,” he trilled in a sing-song voice, grinning madly as his eyes found hers. “Approach the bench…” he said, his voice dropping into a dark, low tone that told her he wasn’t playing.

For a moment, Emma couldn’t move; she was struggling to breathe, and she didn’t want to get any closer to him.

Walsh pointed his gun at the unconscious judge, and raised an eyebrow at her.

Emma forced herself to move, stood up and took a deep breath, trying to keep her hands from shaking and her steps even and controlled as she walked up the middle of the room past the staring eyes of the other people sitting there as they wondered what she’d done to warrant special attention from the criminal who had taken over the courtroom.

She felt sick. She couldn’t believe she was in a situation like this again. If only she’d gone home with Will and Rosa; she wished she’d never considered staying and just looked at the transcripts tomorrow. She’d dressed smartly for the day, another blouse and suit jacket, but this time she was wearing trousers. She was glad of that. Her heels clicked on the marble floor, and it felt how she imagined it would feel to be walking out of death row - and not the freedom kind of walk.

Her legs felt like lead and her blood felt sluggish; her heart struggling painfully to keep beating as dread settled in her gut.

Killian was on the other side of the state.

Will was on the other side of town by now.

Had anyone realised what had happened and called someone?

She pushed through the gate, and felt it swinging behind her, another countdown. She stopped in front of him, forcing herself to look up at him with her jaw set and defiance in her gaze. She couldn’t break down, not now. She had to believe she would be walking out of here by the end of the day.

“Hand over your cell phone, Princess…” he ordered, his voice still in that low dangerous tone.

Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She placed it on the wooden surface in front of him.

“And the other one,” he growled.

“Just one today. I’m here for the shelter, not because I’m protecting someone you’re threatening,” she told him firmly. She didn’t see the point in lying. She didn’t have her second phone with her; her only way of calling for help now sat in between them.

“Hmmm, well, in that case… Call Ranger Jones…”

“He won’t pick up,” she said quietly. “He’s not in town, he’s at the hospital because…” she looked down at the floor and then back up at Walsh. “Because of what you did to his hand.”

Walsh’s eyes gleamed with excitement and malice.

“How bad was it, Princess?” he asked, shifting forward in his seat. “No… wait… Take the witness stand my dear…” he said, gesturing at the booth beside him.

Emma did as she was told, nails digging into her palms to try and stop herself shaking, and started walking. Her eyes found the dead doctor, slumped still half on the chair with his legs sprawled across where Walsh wanted her to stand.

“What’s your name, friend?” Walsh asked the man, suddenly turning to the thief.

“Felix Foxx, and this bitch convinced my wife to leave me,” he said darkly.

“Princess? Denying the sanctity of marriage? Though, considering you’re living in sin with your Ranger toy boy…” he said, turning to look at her as she stepped up into the box. “Mr Foxx, I appoint you as bailiff, if you could swear in the witness…”

“Uh…” Felix replied and found the bible, holding it out.

“Put your hand on it, Princess,” Walsh commanded, immediately getting impatient and grabbing her wrist before she’d had a chance to move, forcing her hand onto the bible. She resisted a little, but only out of instinct rather than any desire to piss him off. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

Emma closed her eyes, and took a shuddering breath, disagreeing would be a very bad idea right now, but she dreaded to think what kinds of questions he was going to force her to answer.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Walsh released her wrist with a gleeful giggle.

“Take a seat,” he said.

“Walsh…” Emma whispered, and he looked up at her with an almost innocently mischievous expression on his face.

“Yes?”

“There’s a body in the way,” she said quietly.

“And?”

“Can I…” she closed her eyes again and took another steadying breath. “Move it before I sit down?”

He grinned. “Now, now, don’t tell me you still haven’t learned your manners…”

“Please, can I move the body?” she amended quickly, even though doing so was almost physically painful at this point.

“Bailiff, move the good doctor out of the way. I’m done with his testimony,” Walsh said, as he took her hand and kissed it. “I’d never ask you to do such a vile thing,” he assured her, tugging on her hand to pull her closer so that Felix could get at the body. Emma nearly tripped on one of his legs but caught herself with her other hand. Her face ended up much closer than she’d have liked to Walsh, who grinned, and stroked down her cheek with the gun he was still holding.

“Don’t worry, we’ll move your chair over, I want to make sure I hear every word…” he leered, and pushed her back into the chair. Emma barely managed to stop herself sprawling in the seat before Walsh grabbed the arm and dragged it right up to the edge of the box, leaning over to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her as close as he could. “Now… about Ranger Jones’ injuries. I want every detail…” He spoke directly into her ear this time, and Emma’s skin crawled.

- - - - -

Will had only been gone about half an hour total when he arrived back at the courthouse; traffic was on his side and he was keen to find out what was going on in the courtroom. The whole time he’d been gone he’d had a bad feeling about leaving Emma there alone, and when he arrived…

The whole place was in chaos. A flash of his badge and he got past the police cordon, and headed over to what appeared to be the base of operations that the SWAT team had set up.

“I’m Ranger Scarlet. What’s going on?” he asked, approaching the Sergeant.

“We’ve got a hostage situation in court room three,” he replied. “One of the defendants got a gun off the bailiff, shot him, his lawyer and the witness on the stand…”

“Wait, did you say three?” Will interjected, his face paling visibly.

“Yes…”

“Fuck, my friend is in there, and the defendant is Walsh Ozman.”

“How do you know that?” the man asked incredulously.

“Because it was his fitness for trial hearing today, and she’s the one he tried to rape, twice,” Will replied, trying his best not to snap at the man as fear crawled up his spine. “Tell me you’ve got the security feed tapped.”

“Over here,” he said, gesturing to a set of monitors over by the courtroom door.

Will took one look at the monitor and swore loudly. He could see Emma sat on the witness stand, with Walsh all over her.

“That’s your friend then?” he asked carefully, and Will responded with a sharp nod, already reaching into his pocket to call… He sighed, calling David first would be best. Killian’s phone would be off anyway.

But before he could even bring up David’s contact page, his phone started to ring.

Emma’s face appeared on the screen, grinning with messy hair and her eyes crossed. He swiped the green bubble up the screen and put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Emma?”

“Will, I’m…”

“I know, Emma, I’m right outside,” Will said quickly.

“Good, then you can write down my demands.” Walsh said, and Will heard Emma squeak in pain.

He looked across at the monitor, to see Walsh holding Emma’s head by her hair, and he could hear a low murmuring over the phone but couldn’t distinguish what was being said.

“Okay Mr Ozman, what do you want?” Will asked.

“I want you to get Ranger Jones on a plane back here, so that I can finish what I started, and kill him.”

“No!” Emma shouted, and Will was forced to watch and listen as Walsh wrenched her head round.

“Shut the fuck up while I’m talking, Princess, or I’m going to have to teach you a lesson,” he spat in her face and Will watched as Emma held his gaze, unmoving and clearly just trying not to piss him off even more as she held her ground just enough to keep him interested in her and not hurting anyone else.

“I’ll try and get hold of him as soon as I can,” Will assured him, glancing at the clock on the wall. Killian wasn’t due out of his therapy session until lunch time, and he wouldn’t turn his phone on until then…

“I’ll be waiting…” Walsh replied and hung up the phone.

Silence hung over the group for a moment as Will absorbed what had been said.

“I have to call my boss,” Will said with a sigh and took one more glance at the monitors before turning away, sick to his stomach.

Hitting call and bringing the phone up to his ear, it rang, and Will couldn’t help the muttering under his breath as he waited for David to pick up his bloody phone. When he finally did, although in reality it was only a few rings, it had felt like an age.

“Scarlet?”

“Boss, you need to get down here… it’s Ozman…” there was no need to say anything else, it seemed, as David’s reply came quickly, short and sharp and full of anger that Will had to remind himself wasn’t directed at him.

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he replied.

- - - - -

Killian’s X-ray looked good, and the physical exam said he was healing quicker than expected. He was clearly taking care of himself, apparently. Emma was making him more likely to ask for help if he needed it. Without her around he’d be stubbornly pushing himself to do things he wasn’t ready for.

He was due to meet his therapist for lunch in about fifteen minutes, but first he wanted to call Emma and ask how the court case had gone. He turned his phone on and waited for it to start up, then typed in his passcode to de-encrypt it. He watched the loading wheel turn and turn and turn, getting agitated and starting to pace.

There was a growing feeling of trepidation in his gut, but he couldn’t work out why.

For a few moments after the start-up completed, his phone was still and silent, but then it seemed to explode with notifications.

A text from Emma

Court went well, hope your morning is too, call me at lunch x

Five missed calls from Will, one from David and a message from the former.

Call me ASAP

The sense of trepidation growing, Killian hit the notification banner on Will’s text and then hit the call button at the top of the conversation.

It only rang once before Will answered.

“What’s going on?”

“Ozman’s fitness for trial hearing was this morning. Emma wanted to stay for it and insisted I take Rosa home. He took the whole courtroom hostage, Killian, and she’s in there with him, alone. I am so sorry, I should have…” he sounded frantic, and terrified of Killian’s reaction.

“Bloody hell,” Killian spat. Fury was building in his gut and spreading through his body like a tidal wave. “What demands has he made?”

“He wants you to walk into that courtroom and let him kill you,” Will replied with a sigh.

“Well that’s not bloody happening,” he growled. “Is Emma alright?”

“She doesn’t look great, I think he’s hit her at least once, but she seems to be holding up okay.”

“I’ll call the airline, and cancel my hospital appointments,” Killian said without question. “I’ll let you know when I’m supposed to touch down. I’ll need someone to meet me at the airport, I’m not relying on a damn taxi.”

“Agreed, one of us will be there,” Will assured him.

“Do everything you can to keep Ozman calm, Will. Emma’s life is going to depend on it.” He hung up with a sigh and kicked the trash can next to him. He shoved his injured hand into his pocket; his heart was pounding and his breath was coming in short bursts. Then he felt the piece of card the uber driver had given him earlier. He pulled it out and brought up the call function, typing in the number.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi, this is Killian Jones. You gave me a lift to the hospital this morning?” he said, a little uncertainly.

“Right, you done already?”

“No, but there’s been a change of plans. How quickly can you get me from here to my hotel and then to the airport?” he asked, praying the answer was quickly.

“You’re in luck, I’ve just dropped someone off. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, mate,”

“See you soon.”

Killian hung up. Well, that was one problem solved. He took a steadying breath, one step at a time. He headed back towards the front doors of the hospital, almost running into his therapist on the way through them.

“Mr Jones, what’s happened?”

“The bastard has taken a courtroom hostage, and Emma is in there with him.”

Clearly, she had a good enough memory and instincts that she didn’t need to ask any more questions.

“Come with me, we’ll rearrange everything, get on the phone to the airline and rearrange your flight,” she told him, already turning to direct him towards the front desk. In that moment, Killian had never been so appreciative of the women he was contractually obliged to divulge his feelings and fears to. She alone out of anyone here would understand how much Emma meant to him. What losing her would do to his chances of a full recovery.

- - - - -

David was struggling to keep calm when he walked up the front steps of the courtroom. He couldn’t believe this was happening again, that this same criminal was holding his daughter hostage yet again. This same sick perverted… and David knew he was going to pull the same kinds of stunts, insisting that his daughter wanted him, touching her, forcing himself on her.

Will’s expression changed when he walked up, and David knew what he was thinking was written all over his face. Will handed him a paper cup with coffee in it.

“Okay, where are we?” David asked once he’d swallowed a swig of his drink and taken a deep breath.

“I’ve been in contact with Jones; he’s on his way to the airport, working on rearranging his flight home. One of us will need to meet him at the airport,” Will informed him efficiently. “Things look pretty calm in there, but I’m not holding out any hope that they stay that way when we tell him it could be hours before Jones gets here.”

“We need to stall as much as we can, keep him calm. How was Jones?”

“He was worried about Emma but I… fuck, Sir, I should have been there,” Will said morosely.

“He might have killed you the moment you tried to defend her,” David told him, digging deep to find reason in the current situation. “I want to make sure Ozman’s name stays out of the news, he’s caused enough of a stir. He’s a showman, and I want him to be a nameless, faceless criminal that we took down.”

Will nodded, and then his phone started to ring. Both he and David froze at the image of Emma that popped up.

He swiped the green bubble and hit the speakerphone button. Both men looked at the monitors where they could see Walsh, still holding Emma close at that awkward angle.

“I’m getting bored of waiting, where is he?”

“He’s on his way, but it’s going to take a while,” Will replied.

“That’s not good enough!” Walsh snapped.

“Ozman, this is Captain Nolan. Can we get you something while you wait?” David tried.

“Oh, Daddy Dearest is here?” Walsh cackled. “Say hello, Princess…”

“Dad? Tell Killian not to…” There was a squeal of pain and a click as Walsh wrenched Emma’s head back and put the barrel of the gun underneath her chin.

“Do as you are told, Princess, how many times?”

“At least one more,” she spat.

“Ozman, what can we get you?” David pressed.

“I want a TV and an avocado and bacon sandwich,” he said after a slight pause and pulling the gun away from Emma’s chin.

David let out a long breath, relieved that things were calm again.

“Not bloody likely,” the SWAT team leader chortled.

David and Will turned to glare at him, while Will muted the microphone.

“My daughter is in there, what the fuck do you think you’re playing at? Do you want her blood on your hands too?” David snarled, looking like he might lose it.

The man dropped his gaze and took a step back, understanding that he had been dismissed and should leave them to it.

- - - - -

“Who the fuck is that?” Walsh snapped, his fist tightening in Emma’s hair, causing her to whimper in pain again as the judge started to stir on the floor. “Do you think this is a fucking joke? I’ll teach you to laugh at me!”

He let go of Emma and stood up, looking around, waving the gun frantically as though trying to pick a victim. Then his eyes landed on the judge pushing herself up off the floor, confused and dizzy.

Emma could see it happening before it did, and she forced herself to sit there and let it happen, because what else could she do? If she tried to stop him, he might turn on her, and she could not let today be the day that Henry became an orphan. So, she shut her eyes, clenched her fists, and turned away as the shot rang out, the body crumpled, and several people screamed. Emma covered her mouth with her hand to try and stifle the sob of regret and fear.

Walsh threw the gun on the desk in front of him and snatched up the phone.

“Are you going to fucking take me seriously now?” he snapped.

“We’ll need twenty minutes for that sandwich,” David said.

“But I’m hungry now!”

“Tell you what Ozman,” Will’s voice came out of the phone this time. “I’ll bring it in myself. Maybe I’ll be worth you letting a few of those hostages go?”

“Will, no!” Walsh snapped his head round to glare at her.

“Who the hell are you?” Walsh asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I’m Jones’ partner,” Will replied.

“So, I’ll get my television, my sandwich and you…”

“That’s right,” Will said.

“I could let all of the men go, I think. There’s too much testosterone floating about in here anyway,” Walsh agreed.

“You have yourself a deal, Mr Ozman,” David confirmed.

“You have twenty minutes, Daddy Dearest,” Walsh replied before hanging up the phone.

For a long moment there was silence in the courtroom, nobody moved, everybody still reeling from the way he’d shot the judge.

He looked down at Emma, and a slow sickening smile spread across his face. “That sandwich isn’t the only thing I’m hungry for,” he said, running a finger along her jaw. “All in good time,” he added, almost to himself.

Emma pulled her chin away, stomach churning and her disgust written all over her face. Fewer hostages was good, and as much as she didn’t want Will in here with Walsh, she knew that having someone else who was nice and capable would only be to their advantage.

- - - - -

Killian was back in the purple uber, having thrown his stuff back in his suitcase with Al’s help, and they were almost at the airport. Every minute that he wasn’t already on the plane was agonising, but he knew that once he was in the air it was only going to get worse.

Al had been amazing, and when they pulled up outside the airport he refused to take Killian’s money.

“Name your kid after me,” he joked with a smile.

“She’s not pregnant, and I already have a niece called Alice,” Killian protested, and if she was, he’d be even more worried about her safety.

“Not yet, but I can tell when something is meant to be,” he replied with a wry smile. “You could leave me a glowing review if you think it’s going to be a while though.”

Killian laughed despite himself and waved Al goodbye.

“Yes I’m still here, I’m walking into the airport now..” he said into the phone when the customer service assistant took him back off hold.

“Okay, Sir I need you to go straight to the check in desk and we’ll need to get you through security quickly,” her voice was calm, but she had immediately understood the urgency of the situation.

“I’ll pull some Ranger strings, lass. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Not a problem, Mr Jones. If you wouldn’t mind handing your phone over to the check in attendant...?”

Ten minutes later, Killian was being escorted through security by a TSA Agent, who would escort him to the gate of the next flight that was leaving for Lubbock. Killian wished they could have gotten him on an earlier flight, but planes waited for no one, and he hadn’t even left the hospital by 12:23. The flight just before two, which he would have made if he’d rushed and possibly hurt his hand, wasn’t running today, so the next one was due to depart in just under an hour. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, for once in their typically jobsworth lives it seemed that everyone was working with him instead of against him, and when he explained the situation to the TSA Agent, he offered him a seat in their breakroom, a plug to charge his phone and access to the internet to see what was on the news, promising to come and get him when his plane started boarding.

Of course, the only way to get him on the plane was to upgrade him to first class, but Killian decided he’d enjoy the extra semblance of privacy. He didn’t know if being loaded onto the plane first and having to sit there longer would help or make him feel worse, but he decided not to torture himself by looking at the news. Instead, he put his phone on charge and texted his flight details to Will, who assured him there was a plan and that Emma was okay. Killian tried to let his friend’s words reassure him, but the dread settling in his gut was worse than the last time they’d been in this situation.

He couldn’t let this go on; he had to end it.

Tell Graham to pick up my gun and badge.

You got it, mate.

- - - - -

Will handed over everything of value he had on him, including the one thing of worth his dad had ever given him, his watch.

David put a hand on his shoulder and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but it seemed he couldn’t find the words.

Will smiled cheekily. “Didn’t know ya cared boss,” he sassed. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll watch Emma’s back, make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“And she’ll do the same for you,” David agreed. “I know.”

Will nodded and took a deep breath as he grabbed the handle of the trolley the television and sandwich were on. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t watch what he wanted on Emma’s phone, but that was hardly the point. Maybe he was saving the battery, but what did Ozman care about how long the battery on Emma’s phone lasted? Emma knew his number, if not her Dad’s; he could make those calls from any phone.

He pushed the trolley up to the doors, pushed aside the churning in his gut at putting himself in the line of fire of this sicko, and knocked.

“Ozman, I’ve got your sandwich!”

- - - - -

Walsh had been watching the clock for the past few minutes, seemingly aching to let the outside world know that David and Will had failed to meet his demands.

But then the knock came, followed by Will’s shout.

“Everybody stay where you are!” Walsh said, brandishing his gun wildly. “Go and let him in,” Walsh ordered Felix.

Emma felt like she couldn’t breathe; a deal had been struck, but Emma didn’t trust Walsh as far as she could throw him. Will could walk right into a hail of bullets for all she knew, so by the time Felix had the door open, her heart was in her mouth. Yes, she was scared for herself, but Will was her best friend, and the knowledge that he was actively putting himself in danger in an effort to keep her safe caused both relief and a debilitating stab of guilt.

The door swung open, and Walsh huffed impatiently. Will pushed the trolley down the aisle, and shot Emma a reassuring smile. Somehow she managed to smile back.

“Right gentleman, in pairs, collect a body each and get out, I don’t want these corpses stinking up my court room!” Walsh commanded. For a moment nobody moved, but then the man who’d stood up when Walsh had struck Emma got to his feet and headed for the Judge’s body. The man who’d been with him followed, and they picked her up and carried her out. Quickly, the aisle became a parade of bodies. The Bailiff, the doctor, the lawyer and the two men who’d tried to take back the courtroom.

Every single one of the male hostages looked relieved to be getting out of there, and that won out over their disgust at having to carry the bodies of the people Walsh had already killed out with them. Emma didn’t blame them for it. How could she? She’d give almost anything for this man to not be in her life anymore.

It wasn’t long before Will and Felix were the only men in the space other than Walsh.

“Stay right there Ranger…?”

“Scarlet,” Will supplied.

“Jones and Scarlet, sounds like a bad cop show,” Walsh said with distaste. He didn’t have to tell Felix to re-secure the door, he was already lowering the heavy bar back into place. “Let’s secure Ranger Scarlet so he can’t cause any trouble, shall we Felix?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” the other man said with a sneer, grabbing Will by the arm and pulling him over to the bench he’d been chained to before Walsh had taken over.

Will didn’t resist, but Felix pushed and pulled him about like he was, making sure the cuffs were tight enough to cause Will to wince in pain.

“Princess, be a dear and go and get my sandwich, would you?” Walsh said with a pleasant smile.

It sounded like a request, but Emma knew it wasn’t, knew she had no choice about going to get it. Walsh had killed people for less, and she regularly pushed back. This was not a battle to fight. She rose to her feet, hands shaking, and made her way to the trolley, picking up the foil-wrapped food.

“Felix, let’s see if we made the news,” Walsh said, and Felix looked concerned for a moment, but then nodded. He moved towards the television and started setting it up.

Emma moved back to the witness stand and retook her seat, putting the sandwich down in front of Walsh.

“Oh, no, Princess, you’re going to feed it to me,” Walsh told her with a leer. “Am I not the King of all I survey? Do you not owe me fealty?” he asked, leaning in as his gaze dropped to her lips and flicked back up to her eyes.

Emma knew what he wanted, but for some reason he was waiting, and Emma had no idea what for.

She pulled back and picked up the sandwich, unwrapped it and laid it on the balustrade between them. She tore off the corner, making sure she got some of each filling before holding it out to him.

Walsh grinned and leaned in a little, opening his mouth, making her place the food in his mouth. Her stomach rolled as his lips closed around her fingers, tongue caressing them as he sucked. She grit her teeth and pulled her fingers out of his mouth, praying she could make it through the whole sandwich. Walsh started to chew, but a look of revulsion came over his face and he spat the food out onto the floor.

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s what ya asked for!” Will protested.

Walsh snatched the top layer of bread off the sandwich and snarled.

“I asked for crispy bacon!” he yelled, glaring at Will. “This shit is barely cooked!” He grabbed Emma’s phone. “Call Daddy Dearest, would you? He’s failed to fulfil his side of the bargain.”

Emma’s hands shook as she unlocked her phone and made the call.

“Emma? What’s wrong?” David asked after one ring.

“I wanted crispy bacon!” Walsh railed. Emma recoiled from his misplaced anger. “I asked for crispy and you give me this limp shit!”

“No… you didn’t…” David replied evenly.

“You just said bacon,” Will supplied. “No cooking specifications.”

“Yes, I did. You reneged on our deal, and someone is going to pay. Tell them Princess…”

“I’m sorry, Walsh, you didn’t,” Emma replied.

“Fucking bitch, I did, you’re lying!”

“I’m sworn in, Walsh, I can’t lie. You did it yourself,” Emma said, gently but firmly.

“This is my Kingdom, and I’m going to shoot the next person who disagrees with me,” Walsh bellowed.

Emma swallowed and looked across at Will, whose eyes were blazing with anger and defiance.

“Ozman, listen to me. We’ll get you a new sandwich, with crispy bacon, but I need you to stop hurting people,” David said quickly, willing to try almost anything to get the situation back under control.

“Oh, Daddy Dearest, are you worried for your little girl?” Walsh said, sitting down again, sweeping the sandwich aside.

“Of course I am, she’s in there with you…” David replied, and Emma could tell he was struggling to keep it together, to not break down the door and rescue her.

“Oh, no… there’s no need for that. I’m not going to kill her…” he forced his fingers into Emma’s hair and turned her head a little, then he leaned his forehead against the side of her head. “I’m going to take very, very good care of her…” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then let out a shaky breath before breathing in deep through his nose with it pressed into her hair.

Emma had to fight the urge to push him away, to get as far away from him as possible. Instead, she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, curling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking with anger and fear. Her skin crawled so much that it felt like an itch, and she wanted to tear her skin off her body. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t think about anything else but the pounding desire to run as far and as fast as she could and hang the consequences. She could feel her eyes growing hot with fear and humiliation at being put through this again.

This was so much worse in front of a room full of people.

“My Princess…” he whispered tenderly, pressing another kiss to her cheek as he ended the phone call.

They stood there for a long moment before Killian pulled back, reaching for the handle on his suitcase but Emma got there first. She slid the handle up and then entwined her fingers with his. They walked into the airport together and got him checked in.

The last five times they’d done this, they’d done it together, with the kids, a few days in Houston and then back home, making the most of the time they had to spend together. Emma had taken the kids out during the day, and then they’d picked Killian up from the hospital and taken him back to the motel.

The trips weren’t cheap, but the Rangers insurance was amazing, and sure a few days with all of them in one room was cramped and Emma was pretty sure Alice was more than over it already, but she liked being there for him. To cradle his head to her chest while he gingerly stretched out his aching hand and tried not to cry out in pain, and to do simple things like handing him his toothbrush already loaded with toothpaste in the morning when he followed her into the bathroom.

Really, she just loved him being there all the time, and she knew she was going to miss him immensely this week.

With Killian checked in, they took a slow walk over to the start of the security line and paused.

“I um… got you something…” Emma said nervously, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a box. “Well, more than one, but… I was thinking you should have something of us to take with you, the kids picked out theirs.”

With Emma keeping hold of the bottom of the box, Killian pulled the top up and found three chunky pendants sitting on the black velvet.

A swan, a starfish, and a quill.

Killian’s eyes widened a little, and he looked stunned for a moment before a soft smile crept onto his face. “You going to help me get these on?”

Emma set the box on his palm and reached up to take the long chain from round his neck. She unclasped it and slipped the new charms on one by one before settling the chain back into place.

“There,” she said, grazing her fingers along the chain, through the chest hair his low-buttoned shirt exposed.

“Thank you, Emma,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He slid the box back into her pocket, and then wrapped his left arm around her waist, threading the fingers of his right hand into her hair as he kissed her. They needed this; this breath-taking moment of passion that made them forget there was anyone else in existence.

This was one thing that had not changed; even one-handed, Killian was a more than capable lover, and while Emma sometimes thought he might be trying too hard to compensate for the lack of strength and dexterity in his left hand, she made sure he knew she was never disappointed.

They pulled apart, panting, leaning into each other for support.

“Call me when you land?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even, to not make this any more difficult than it already was.

“Of course I will,” he pressed a kiss to her nose and stepped back, letting her out of his tight embrace. “I need to go.”

“I love you,” she said, gripping his hand for one more moment.

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, raising her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her fingers and stepped away, squeezing her hand briefly before he dropped it. “See you soon, love.”

He turned and walked through the archway leading to the security line. Emma stood there for a long time trying not to cry before she turned and walked back to Killian’s truck.

It had taken her a while to get used to driving the huge vehicle, but it was just so much more practical than her Bug, which had sat gathering dust for the last few months outside the shelter. When she sat in the cab, all she could smell was Killian. His scent was embedded in the fabric of the vehicle and it just made her miss him more.

It was several minutes before Emma’s tears had dried up enough that she was safe to drive. She took a deep breath and headed over to pay for the parking.

- - - - -

Last night had been hard; sleep had not come easily in a bed that had suddenly felt too big and too empty. In the end, she’d sent Killian a text asking if he was awake, and a moment later he’d called and they’d fallen asleep on the phone.

Will had known, maybe, or Killian might have told him, Emma wasn’t sure. Still, he came by with coffee half an hour before Emma had to leave the house to take the kids to school and got stuck in with helping Henry get himself breakfast.

Alice had been quiet, and Henry had been a little fretful at the school gate, so used to Killian being there to see him off, that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Emma gave them both a big hug and reminded them that it was just for a few days, and Killian would be back before they knew it.

When they’d set off again, Emma’s phone trilled with Killian’s ringtone once more and she smiled as she answered. “Hey Babe.”

“Hi, love, have I missed the kids?”

“Yes, sorry, I should have called,” she replied with a sigh. She knew how important they were to him, how much they both valued their relationships with both the children.

“No, no, it’s alright, I… took a little longer to get ready this morning than I’d hoped,” he admitted with a sigh of his own.

Emma’s heart ached with regret that she wasn’t there for him. She should have been there to help him, but instead she was here, and he was hundreds of miles away and struggling. Still, she had a job to do, and Killian had been insistent when the trial date had been moved up that she not miss it for him. It was routine, he’d said, just a review and nothing to worry about.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Emma said quietly. “What was it?”

- - - - -

Killian took a deep breath. “A little of everything,” he admitted. “It just takes longer to do everything and…”

“And normally I’d swoop in and help…” Emma finished for him. “Only it’s not helping in the long run is it? I just… hate seeing you get so frustrated with yourself when we both know how well you’re doing.”

“I know, love, it’s alright. We weren’t expecting this for a little while yet, that’s all, so it’s… it’s not your fault,” he said firmly. She only wanted to help, and he knew it made her feel better to do so, and he was more than happy to let her.

“Thanks, babe,” she replied quietly, and he could tell she wasn’t convinced. “And you are doing well, no matter what you think,” she told him firmly.

Killian smiled to himself. They’d been in similar positions before, only then it had been him convincing her she wasn’t drowning rather than the other way around. If he’d really found her helping him annoying, he would have told her, and she knew that. At least he hoped she did. The fact was, if he did too much, he ended up in so much pain he couldn’t do anything at all and then she’d end up doing more for him than not.

“It hurts already,” he admitted. He should have woken up earlier, given himself more time. He didn’t want to worry her, but he needed to be honest. He didn’t want to argue like they had the first time he’d hidden that from her. Luckily the kids had been at school and hadn’t had to witness it, or what came after when he’d shown her how sorry he was with his body.

They’d talked afterwards of course; they always did. They made sure to because Emma wasn’t going to let things slide. She cared too much about him, and about how it would affect their kids should this not work out. Killian didn’t want that either. Alice may only be his niece, but he loved her as much as he could imagine loving his own children if he ever had them, as much as he loved Henry.

“Gentle massage normally helps the morning ache,” she said, and he could hear the gentle smile in her voice.

“Only when it's you doing it. I swear you’ve got magic fingers as well as that superpower you’re so proud of,” he replied, only half teasing.

“Suck up,” she replied affectionately.

“Mmmm but you love me for it.”

“Yes, I do,” she told him without hesitation.

Killian smiled. “Aye, and I love you too.” There was a pause for a moment. “Will there?”

“So this was your doing?” she accused, clearly still smiling.

“You didn’t sleep well, love, I did what I could.”

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, with a definite spike of emotion in her tone. She took a deep breath. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“You look after my girl today, you hear, Scarlet?” Killian said with a grin.

“I’d say ‘yes boss’ but I don’t think David appreciates me throwing that term around,” Will replied.

All three of them laughed.

“Thank you, Will,” Killian said sincerely.

“Anytime, mate, you know that. We’ve gotta go, we’re here.”

“I love you, Killian,” Emma said quickly, not wanting to miss her chance.

“I love you too, Emma,” he replied, smiling in that giddy way he couldn’t help when she said things like that.

“I love you both, three, so I win,”

“Shove off,” Emma laughed. Killian heard a soft ‘oof’ as Emma shoved Will.

“She’s abusin’ me! Help!” Will shouted playfully.

“I’ll call you later, love.”

“Bye Killian.”

She hung up. Killian lowered the phone into his lap with a sigh. Following her advice, he carefully started massaging the muscles in his hand, hoping to bring himself some relief. He knew being sure it wouldn't help was self-sabotaging, but… it really wasn’t the same as when she did it.

A few short minutes later, the uber pulled up in front of the hospital. Killian handed over the fare and told the driver to keep the change.

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “Hey, I know it’s not my business but… sounds like whoever was on the other end of the phone is rooting for you. Rehab ain’t easy, my uncle lost his leg in a hit and run, so I… Well, good luck.” he finished a little awkwardly.

Killian gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Thanks mate,” he opened the door and climbed out.

“Hey uh… have my card, I’ll do you a better deal than the app,” he said, leaning out and holding out the slip of white paper.

“Thank you,” Killian said, genuinely touched by the offer. “Al,” he said with a smile as he checked out the name on the card. Aladdin “Al” Kerstone.

Honestly, when the purple car had pulled up outside the motel he’d been a little unsure, but he was glad he’d gotten in. He was smiling when he started to walk away towards the hospital.

Yes, his hand was hurting already, a dull nagging ache that was only going to get worse throughout the day. Yes, he was alone because he’d insisted that Emma do her job and not come with him. Yes, he was tired because he hadn’t slept well the night before and was miserable because of it…

But he’d made a friend, and Emma loved him, and he was going to get through today for her and for the kids, because he was damn well going to be the man they deserved in their lives.

- - - - -

Emma let out the breath she’d been holding in a rush and grinned, standing up as Rosamund Foxx turned to look at her, her eyes alight with happiness and relief. She pushed through the gate and hugged Emma tightly.

“I am so proud of you, Rosa,” Emma told her.

“Thank you so much for everything, Emma, I can’t believe this is finally over,” she said, with a nervous laugh.

It had been a long process, and the divorce was the final step. At the side of the room, Felix, her now ex-husband was being forced to sit down and was chained to the bench at the side of the room for lack of anything else to do with him for now, apparently.

Felix was a thief, unbeknownst to his wife who had stumbled upon a stash of stolen goods when she’d been clearing out the spare room. It was a small haul that he’d forgotten about, but when she’d called it in… the whole operation had been blown wide open. As a ringleader of the burglary gang, he’d been sentenced to ten years in prison. Rosa had been living at the shelter for the whole process and had served divorce papers the moment the trial was over.

She was finally free, and Emma could not have been happier for her. She’d moved out of the shelter, got herself a new job and had made a new start. These were the cases that made Emma’s job worth it- the women who made it out and refused to give up.

“You did this, I just pointed you in the right direction a couple of times,” Emma assured her. She honestly believed that too; these women were capable of so much more than their situations had allowed them to do. Emma simply opened a door; it was up to them to step through it. “How is the new place, by the way?” she asked with a smile.

“It’s great, not a lot bigger than what I had at the shelter, but I can afford it, and it’s mine,” she said, with unmistakable pride and relief and happiness.

“I am so, so happy for you,” Emma said with a smile.

Will placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Let’s get you both home, shall we? Rosa, do you want a…?”

“Next case, fitness for trial hearing. Defendant, Walsh Ozman,” the Bailiff announced.

Will’s eyes widened and he stared at Emma in shock. She took a deep breath and looked right back at him with determination in her eyes.

“Did you know about this?” he asked quietly.

“Not until yesterday when I looked at the trial confirmations for today,” she confessed, feeling a little guilty.

“We should go,” he said, shifting his arm across her shoulder and making to guide her out.

Emma shook her head. “No, Will, I need to watch this.”

“Emma, you don’t…” he protested.

“I do, I need to know what I’m going to have to face,” she insisted.

“Do you mind waiting?” Will asked Rosa, who was shaking her head.

“Take Rosa home, Will, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Killian…”

“Will understand. I’m a grown woman. If you really want to stay, that’s up to you, but I will be fine. He doesn’t scare me, not any more.”

Did she want him to stay? Maybe. Did she wish Killian was here right now? Definitely. But she had to do this; she had to face this. This man had haunted their lives for too long, and she felt like if she wasn’t here to keep an eye on the hearing, it was all going to go wrong.

Ozman needed to go back to jail, there was no question about it, but she had to make sure that everyone else felt that way too. She didn’t want to risk not being the first to know that something had gone wrong.

Will looked across at where the judge was rearranging her documents, at the door through which the bailiff would be bringing Ozman at any moment, and then back at Emma.

“Okay, but I will be right back, and then I’ll take you to lunch,” he promised.

“Thanks, Will, I’ll see you later,” she said with a soft smile as she took a seat at the back of the room. She wanted to watch, but she was trying not to cause disruption to proceedings by avoiding Walsh seeing her.

Will and Rosa left, and a few moments later, Walsh was dragged in, wearing inpatient scrubs from the psych unit he’d been incarcerated in and a wild look in his eyes. He was clearly playing up the insanity plea, but his sanity now was nothing to do with how he had been when he’d committed the crime. Surely both he and his lawyer knew that?

But maybe he didn’t care? Maybe he was hoping that his current insanity would mean a lesser sentence in a lower security facility. Hell, getting high on drugs for the rest of his life off the taxpayers’ dollar wasn’t a bad life considering what he could be facing, she supposed.

Unfortunately, hiding at the back of the room was not enough to stop Walsh seeing her.

“Princess?!” he cried with excitement, ignoring the judge and turning, kneeling on his seat to get a better look at her. “You came to see me! I’ve missed you; I’ve dreamed of you…” He licked his lips and wriggled his eyebrows, and Emma knew her expression was showing how much her stomach was rolling already.

“Counsellor, control your client, I will not have him harassing members of the public!” the judge snapped.

“Yes, your honour,” the lawyer blushed and hissed harshly at Walsh to sit down.

He slumped in his chair, but kept looking over his shoulder, blowing her kisses and holding his fingers up to his mouth to waggle his tongue between them. He ignored his lawyer’s opening statement to continue his comments under his breath. Rubbing his crotch and moaning, asking her to come and sit closer instead of hiding from him. How he’d known she would be here, how he wanted her.

Emma forced herself to ignore him, to keep her eyes on the judge. It would be over soon, and his comments were worth enduring to know how this was going to play out.

- - - - -

X-ray, done.

Half a tonne of forms filled in.

Now both hands were aching, and Killian still had to have a physical exam and a review of his X-ray, but first he had a therapy session to get through.

Was it any wonder this process took days when there was so much waiting in between everything?

He wasn’t complaining, not really, but normally he had lunch and then the afternoon with Emma and the kids to look forward to. Today he was just going to sit in the cafeteria, alone, and then have his physio session, which had been rearranged so that he could get home sooner and surprise his family.

The stupid physiotherapy bloke was going to push him until he was sweating and crying with pain, and Killian was going to let him. Because what choice did he have but to just keep pushing?

“Mr Jones?” said a calm voice from a little further down the hall. Stood in the doorway to her office, her dark hair twisted into a practical braid at the back of her head, dark, soulful eyes that Killian always felt could see into his soul, was his therapist. Part of what he had to go through was mental therapy too, this part was both the easiest and the hardest part of his day.

He pushed himself to his feet and walked towards her.

“It’s good to see you again, Killian,” Lillian Tigue, who had a wall full of qualifications to let everyone know how good she was at getting people to admit how they felt, said with a smile.

Killian merely grunted as he walked past her into the office and took a seat on the couch. She took one in the armchair with her notebook and pen at the ready. The thing he hated most was that she could write shorthand, and that meant he couldn’t read what she was writing about him. He didn’t like not knowing what she thought of him.

“So how are you doing, Killian?” she asked, starting with the same question she did every time.

Killian shrugged. “It’s aching more today than it has in a while,” he said with a sigh. He ran his undamaged hand through his hair and looked out of the window. “I still don’t know if I’m going to be able to go back to work and that’s driving me a little crazy. I can’t do anything to help around the house, really. Emma needed to put up a shelf the other week, and Alice had to help her while I sat on my arse and watched.”

Just like always, now that he’d started talking he wasn’t going to be able to stop until he’d got it all off his chest. Dr Tigue nodded and made a couple of notes. He continued talking and letting it all out. Yes, he was making progress but he didn’t feel like he was making enough.

“I can’t even muck out a stall at the ranch right now. Sweeping a floor is… agony… I…” he swallowed and shook his head before looking back at her.

“If you don’t mind me saying, Killian, you’re normally more positive than this. What’s different today?” she asked casually.

Killian dropped his gaze to his hands where his right was gently massaging his left, trying to ease the sharp twinge he was feeling in the middle of his palm.

“Emma and the kids are still in Lubbock,” he said. He didn’t really feel like expanding on the statement, but the psychiatrist sat looking at him for long enough that he relented. “The kids have school, so even if Emma didn’t have to work, she wouldn’t want to leave her parents to look after them, not with everything that’s happened. She’s got a couple of court cases to go to with girls from her shelter, and that’s important. School is important for the kids and work is important to Emma, but I don’t have anything like that to be important to me right now… Just them… and even when I’m there I’m useless, but I miss them.

“Instead of them meeting me outside after this, I’m going to sit in the cafeteria and eat rubbish, dry hospital food, and struggle to open the fucking sandwich packet one-handed. Alone,” he said bitterly, his throat tight. “I miss them. I only left yesterday morning, and I miss them so much.” He stood up and walked over to the window, swiping furiously at his cheeks. “I miss juggling two cups of coffee and door handles in the morning to bring Emma coffee. I miss the way I’ve worked out how to throw Henry over my shoulder without putting any pressure on my weak hand. I miss the way Alice has been hugging me a little tighter when she notices me managing something I’ve been struggling with without even saying anything.”

“I missed falling asleep on the sofa in the middle of a movie, and waking up with Emma’s hair in my face as she holds my hand against her chest like she’s protecting it. The way she somehow massages the pain away in a way that I fucking can’t…” he swiped angrily at the tears on his cheeks.

There was a long silence, and behind him, he heard Lily take a deep breath.

“Killian…?” she said gently.

It took him a moment, but he turned around and looked at her.

“I don’t normally do this but, would you like some company for lunch?” she offered.

Killian blinked in shock and looked at her for a long moment once again, really taking in her offer and the way she’d said it, calmly and gently but not patronisingly, and her body language, open and honest. He almost, almost snapped and told her he didn’t need any pity. He opened his mouth to do just that in fact, but then he dropped his gaze and looked back at her.

“Aye, lass, that would be…” he took another breath. “Thank you.”

Dr Tigue smiled then, the warmth of it making her eyes bright. She seemed happy to know that her offer had been taken so well, that she hadn’t made it in vain.

“You are most welcome, Killian,” she said with a smile.

Killian nodded and retook his seat on the sofa.

“So, why do you think you aren’t progressing as fast as you should?” she asked. With some of the weight off his chest, he could tell that she was genuinely curious to hear his answer.

“I think I’m just frustrated, and… my old partner had to retire and now runs the bar we all go to after work. But I don’t want that. I’m not ready to stop. I have the ranch I guess, but Emma isn’t ready to move out there with me and… When I first woke up, I didn’t expect this to change my life so much,” he admitted.

“That’s understandable,” Lily said, pausing in her note taking to look at him. “Injuries like this take time to come to terms with, no matter how prepared you might have been to get hurt in the line of duty. What he did to you to hurt Emma is something you are going to have to live with to some degree for the rest of your life. It may just be occasional pain by the time you’ve half killed yourself in physical therapy, but it may be more significant than that. Coming to terms with this change to your life is why you’re talking to me,” she said, her voice still soft and gentle as she held his gaze.

Killian nodded in agreement. He was never going to be able to escape the physical evidence of what had been done to him, to them. He swallowed thickly and clenched his jaw, the muscle in it ticking obviously.

Dr Tigue let him sit in silence for a long moment, sensing that he needed it before they continued.

- - - - -

By the time Walsh’s lawyer was done with his testimony, Emma was seething.

How dare he?

How dare he say that Walsh grew up in a traumatising home and that he didn’t understand that what he had done was wrong? How dare he say that with his current brain injuries he was unable to understand why he was being incarcerated? How dare he suggest that there should be an investigation into how the injuries occurred?

Walsh was a psychopath who enjoyed hurting people. He’d know that what he was doing was wrong all along. That was why he’d tried to frame Killian for police brutality to get him out of the way. That was why he’d stayed on just the right side of the law when other people had been watching and then pulled out all the stops when they were alone.

There was no way this was going to fly, surely? Emma just had to hope that the doctor they’d just called up to the stand could see what she could.

Dr Boder took the stand, swore himself in and sat down. There was a lot of medical jargon to start with; he explained how he’d spent so many hours with the defendant, and the judge asked him for his honest opinion. With a sigh he looked at Walsh who was ignoring him in favour of leering at Emma.

“In my professional opinion, Mr Ozman is nowhere near as ill as he is trying to make us believe. He has lapses into lucidity that make too much sense. He clearly has memories of what he did, and while he may like to pretend he’s not enjoying every moment of making someone squirm, he knows exactly what he’s doing and why it is socially unacceptable. He thrives on getting away with it and driving his victims to the point of hopelessness.

“I believe Mr Ozman is fit to stand trial, and that he is more than aware of why he is being tried for the offences listed. He’s playing at insanity for his own amusement so that he can get out of jail sooner and reoffend,” Boder finished.

The judge looked over at Emma, and then at the doctor, the lawyer, and finally Walsh, who was now blowing raspberries.

“Having reviewed the case files beforehand, listened to the defendant’s statement, and the doctor’s testimony, I find Mr Osman fit to stand trial.” She struck the table with her gavel and dismissed the concerned parties.

Walsh screamed, flailing wildly in his chair. He started to hit his lawyer. “You lied, you’re a liar, I trusted you!” he sobbed, slumping down in his chair to curl and thrash under the table.

“Get him out of my courtroom!” the judge snapped at the bailiff, who went over to the table and crouched down in front of it to try and drag Walsh out.

“No, don’t!” Emma shouted, standing up, desperate to make them understand how dangerous he was. People turned to stare at her, wondering what she was going on about.

There was more shouting, the table legs rattled on the floor as Walsh struggled, and then…

A gunshot.

The bailiff stumbled backwards, standing up, and Emma dared to hope that it was over. For a long moment, nothing happened, Walsh lay still under the desk, and the bailiff looked down at him with a curious expression on his face. But then he pulled his hand away from his stomach and Emma could see blood. He looked across at the judge and gargled something unintelligible before collapsing.

There was another gunshot as Walsh shot the prison guard before darting up from under the table, grabbing his gun too. Several people screamed, and Walsh shot at the ceiling with the guard’s gun, manic excitement in his eyes as he breathed in the chaotic panic in the air.

“I WILL HAVE ORDER!” he shouted, and people quietened down.

Emma retook her seat, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

“You lied to me. You told me you could get me declared unfit. You said you could get me off!” Walsh said, his eyes bright with fury as he stared down at his lawyer.

“I said I would try… please…”

“Oh so you’re scared of me, just like everyone else…” Walsh rotated his head and made a strange, frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “Liars and hypocrites, all deserve to die…” he said, a soft smile coming over his face as he levelled the gun at his lawyer and shot him in the head.

Someone else screamed, but was soon hushed by the people around them. Emma’s whole body was tense as her nails dug into her palms.

“And you!” he said, turning on the doctor, frozen in fear in his seat having not had time to vacate the stand.

The doctor started to babble about how he was just doing his job.

“Oh, don’t give me all that!” Walsh snapped impatiently. “You said I wasn’t crazy… well… I hate to tell you this but… I don’t care for your diagnosis.” He chuckled as he pointed the gun at the doctor and shot him too.

There was silence.

Walsh grabbed his chair, smashed it and took one of the legs, sauntered up to the door and shoved it through the handles, blocking it shut. With excitement in his eyes he turned his head to look at Emma, a sickening smile creeping onto his face. Emma couldn’t move. She’d told Will she wasn’t scared of him, but she’d never imagined this. She wished he was here, but she was glad Rosa wasn’t. Not with her ex-husband still in the room.

“I told you we’d be together again, Princess,” he leered, brushing her curls back with the barrel of the gun.

“Get off me,” Emma managed to grind out through a tense jaw.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me, and you know it.”

“I don’t,” she insisted.

“Stop lying! I hate liars!” he snapped. Emma tensed and glared up at him. He grinned, turning the gun around in his hand and striking her across the face with it.

She cried out in pain, head ringing as she hit the bench, gasping against the pain.

“You do insist on pushing me to extremes…” he said quietly, wiping her blood off the gun with his t-shirt.

On the other side of the room, Emma heard someone stand up.

“Sit down, this is basically foreplay,” he snapped.

Emma looked up at him, standing over her, pointing his gun across the room. She supposed they must have done as they were told, because Walsh lowered the gun. He looked back down at her, and Emma closed her eyes, trying not to panic.

Rating: Explicit (non con, graphic descriptions of violence)

Summary: Emma and Killian are now living together, but with both kids back at school after the summer, Killian has to travel across state to attend some routine appointments alone for the first time. What Killian doesn’t know, is that Walsh Ozman’s fitness for trial hearing is this week and that after going to court to support one of her Cygnets Emma has decided to stay and watch. How do the other Rangers cope when things go wrong and Killian is hours away from being able to help?

Chapters: Four

Word Count: Approximately 27K

Notes: Well, Part Three is finished, and all that’s left is for me to post it… Once again, I can promise a rollercoaster of angst, but I swear it has a happy ending, and one that Walsh isn’t going to come back and interfere with. There’s like 6k of pure fluff in chapter 4… So, use that to get you through. I’m fully prepared to end up in the corner for what I’m going to put them through in this.

Previous Parts: Look Behind You

On AO3, or on Tumblr: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Unsuspecting Stranger

On AO3, or on Tumblr:

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three| Chapter Four

- - - - -

With Killian checked in, they took a slow walk over to the start of the security line and paused.

“I um… got you something…” Emma said nervously, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a box. “Well, more than one, but… I was thinking you should have something of us to take with you, the kids picked out theirs.”

With Emma keeping hold of the bottom of the box, Killian pulled the top up and found three chunky pendants sitting on the black velvet.

A swan, a starfish, and a quill.

Killian’s eyes widened a little, and he looked stunned for a moment before a soft smile crept onto his face. “You going to help me get these on?”

Emma set the box on his palm and reached up to take the long chain from round his neck. She unclasped it and slipped the new charms on one by one before settling the chain back round his neck.

“There,” she said, grazing her fingers through the chest hair his low-buttoned shirt exposed.

“Thank you, Emma,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He slid the box back into her pocket, and then wrapped his left arm around her waist, threading the fingers of his right hand into her hair as he kissed her. They needed this; this breath-taking moment of passion that made them forget there was anyone else in existence.

This was one thing that had not changed; even one-handed, Killian was a more than capable lover, and while Emma sometimes thought he might be trying too hard to compensate for the lack of strength and dexterity in his left hand, she made sure he knew she was never disappointed.

They pulled apart, panting, leaning into each other for support.

“Call me when you land?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even, to not make this any more difficult than it already was.

“Of course I will,” he pressed a kiss to her nose and stepped back, letting her out of his tight embrace. “I need to go.”

“I love you,” she said, gripping his hand for one more moment.

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, raising her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her fingers and stepped away, squeezing her hand briefly before he dropped it. “See you soon, love.”

- - - - -

Rating: Explicit (for the occasionally very desciptive smut…)

Summary: With Henry safe, and Gold’s criminal empire coming apart at the seams, Killian and Emma must work out how to fit into each other’s lives when her son’s isn’t in danger. With help and hinderance from those around them, can they become the family they both need and deserve?

Chapters: Eight

Word Count: Approximately 44K

Notes: So, this is part two of I did right. Originally ait was all one fic, and then after a conversation with @hollyethecurious​, I split it into two fics. So, you have the suspense filled action fest that was The One Thing, and this, the mostly fluffy, domestic aftermath of Henry being kidnapped. Basically, I just couldn’t stop writing about these two idiots so you all get eight chapters worth of epilogue… There is some angst, but it’s mostly external or pining because long distance in nature. Nothing particularly mean, they need a happy beginning after all…

Previous Parts: The One Thing On AO3, or on Tumblr: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

- - - - -

Of course, Love, and I promise I won't get shot in the back before then.

She appreciated the lightness that came across in his tone, and she didn’t know how he’d managed to convey it through a text but he had. But even with that, she couldn’t help the melancholy that settled over her at that thought.

You’d better not. she decided was a justified reply.

She was grateful that his response was quick, but at the same time it made her roll her eyes.

I assure you, it's much less likely on a plane than during a normal day in the office.

Emma sighed, knowing it was true.

I'd say 'don't remind me' but... ditto...