Page 67 of Roark
“What the hell is happening to us, man?” Ridge said, his voice cracking on the last word.
Roark wrapped his arms around his brother then and pulled him into a hug. If he held on a moment longer than was probably necessary, it was because a part of him was roiling with the fact that he’d almost lost his family in that house tonight too.
“Somebody had to let him in,” Pierce said. “That’s the only explanation.”
“Nobody would’ve done that,” Cade insisted. “And he couldn’t have disguised himself enough. Every part of his face was a dead giveaway. None of the guards or anyone inside would’ve let in someone wearing a mask or even a long dark coat and hoodie. And they especially wouldn’t have let him in at that time of night.”
“But what if they let him in earlier?” Pierce asked. “What if he’d been in the house since…maybe when the police were there in the morning executing their search warrant. There were at least two dozen cops rummaging around inside and outside of the house for more than three hours. What if someone just walked on in and went unnoticed because everyone was otherwise occupied?”
“If that’s how he got in, I’m gonna have the badges of every one of those disorganized cops, and then I’m gonna sue the entire department for negligence,” Cade said.
Roark and Ridge were standing side-by-side now, and neither of them said anything to Cade’s comment. Mainly because they were behind him one hundred percent in taking down the bastards who’d allowed this to happen.
Pierce headed toward the open doorway.
“Where are you going?” Cade asked him.
“To wake up the police chief so he can wake up his detectives and get to the bottom of this. I don’t give a damn what time it is.” Pierce not only looked angry, but his voice had a lethal edge to it Roark hadn’t heard before. “You stay here with your family. I’ll keep you posted.”
Cade nodded. “Call me immediately.”
“Will do,” Pierce said before leaving.
The next person to appear in that doorway was Tamika, and Roark immediately went to her. “How is she?”
“In shock,” she said. “He dropped the torch almost instantly after putting it to her face, so it’s a second-degree burn, but Dr. Duvall thinks it’ll heal nicely. Better than the ones on her arm, obviously. We’re just—” Her voice cracked, and she looked up at him with a panicked expression on her face.
“Come on, let’s take a walk,” he said and grabbed her elbow, leading her down the hall. When they were standing near a bank of elevators, Roark stopped because he felt like she’d had time to catch her breath. “She’s going to be alright,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her. “She’s going to be alright and this is over. Kaymen’s dead.”
He wanted to feel tremendous relief at saying those words, but right now all he felt was the pain of Tamika’s ragged breaths and the hurt he knew she was feeling at this moment.
“My mother could’ve died.” Her voice was so quiet as her face remained pressed against his chest. “If we hadn’t gotten into that room in time, my mother would be dead. Not suffering from second-degree burns for the second time in as many weeks, but dead. For real.”
“I know. I know.” All he could do right now was repeat the words, because Roark did know. He’d watched Tamika about to risk her own life to save her mother’s and while he’d been scared to death of what might happen to her, he knew if he’d been in her position, he would’ve done the same thing. “But she didn’t, and you’re going to be able to go back and see her and be with her, and this is going to pass, sweetness. It’s going to pass.”
Each time he’d fallen or hurt himself in some way when he was younger, or when he’d gotten older and someone had disappointed him or he hadn’t gotten the grade he’d expected, his mother would hold him and say, “It’s going to pass.” So Roark said that to Tamika, believing with all that he and his mother had shared that the words were true.
Her body jerked while he held her, and in the next moment, he heard her first sob. Roark held her tighter.
“I don’t cry,” she said and lifted a hand to wipe her face. “I try not to cry. When my dad died, I cried a little at the hospital with my mom, but then not again. Not at the funeral when all those people were there staring at me. And not at the cemetery when my legs threatened to buckle beneath me as we left him there. I didn’t cry.”
But now she was sobbing. Thick, ragged breaths ripped from her, tears came and her entire body shook in his arms.
“It’s okay to cry, Tamika. I cried when the paramedics came out of the house and told me Mum was dead. I cried at the funeral and then again when I was home alone. Because it hurt so much, it felt like a part of me was being ripped out of my chest.”
And a tear rolled down Roark’s cheek now, because he knew Tamika’s pain and also because there was a part of him that hurt for each sob that broke free from her. He didn’t like seeing her this way, didn’t like that she had to suffer at all.
“She’s gonna be okay,” she said softly when the sobs stopped taking her breath away. “She’s gonna be okay.”
“We’re gonna be okay,” he told her. “We’re all gonna be okay.”
Chapter 20
One Week Later
“Aunt Birdie and Suri insisted on having this party tonight.”
Tamika brushed her hands over the lapels of Roark’s tuxedo jacket. “You look great in a tux.”
