The simple apology took some of the wind out of my sails, but I wasn't ready to let go of my anger yet. It was safer than the other emotions swirling inside me.
"Thank you," I said stiffly. "But I’m still going to go."
"Where?" Dion demanded. "Where exactly do you think you'll be safe from Rice and his people?"
"I'll figure something out," I insisted, though my confidence was wavering. "I always do."
"And that's the problem, isn't it?" Dion said, his eyes suddenly intense. "You've always had to figure it out yourself. Always had to be the strong one, the responsible one. Never letting anyone help you, even when you're drowning."
His words hit too close to home, and I felt tears threatening again. "And you're so different?"
"Once, yes," Dion admitted, "but now I have Walker, Maddox, and Gideon, plus another four or five that I know will always have my back." He took a step toward me. "Emily, what happened earlier—finding that room, holding Barnaby—that was real. That wasn't me manipulating you or trying to make you compliant. That was you finally allowing yourself something you've needed for a very long time."
I swallowed hard, the lockbox trembling in my grip. "Stop it."
"No," Dion said firmly. "Because you need to hear this. Being angry about the files is valid. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But if you're using that as an excuse to run away from what happened in that room, from what you felt earlier—"
"I said stop it!" My voice cracked, betraying me. "You have no right to talk to me like this. In fact," I spat. "I'm sayingBlue. That's my safeword." I looked at Walker. "Either you take me to my apartment, or I call a ride, but I'm not staying here. Where are my damn car keys?"
Walker, who had been doing his best to become invisible against the kitchen counter, finally spoke up. "Ms. Carter, for what it's worth, I lost my grandmother this week." His voice was rough with emotion. "She spent her whole life not letting anyone help her, even when she was in danger. Even when she needed itthe most." He met my eyes, his expression raw with grief. "Don't make the same mistake she did."
I stood frozen, the lockbox heavy in my arms, Walker's words hitting me like a physical blow. The anger that had been sustaining me began to crumble, and I couldn't afford to let it go.
"I'm sorry about your grandmother," I said softly. "But I still want to leave and if you keep me against my will, you're no better than the monsters who took me before."
Dion hissed in a breath, and I regretted my words immediately. He looked like I'd stabbed him. His skin was gray, and his previously stormy eyes turned dead and cold.
"Walker," Dion clipped out, and strode out of the kitchen. He clicked to the dogs, and while they both shot a confused look in my direction, they immediately followed.
Walker stood in the heavy silence for a long moment, his expression carefully neutral. "I'll give you a ride," he said finally. "We'll get your car back to you later."
"Thank you," I whispered, not arguing because I was in no state to drive, even though guilt was already eating at me. The look on Dion's face before he'd walked away—I'd never seen anyone look so devastated.
"Give me two minutes," I said, heading towards the bedrooms.
I stumbled to the Little room on shaking legs, my heart hammering against my ribs. Barnaby sat where I'd left him, propped against the pillows, his button eyes seeming to watch me with reproach. I picked him up, intending to put him back where I'd found him, but found myself clutching him to my chest instead. I didn't have anything to collect so I wasn't sure why I'd come back.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to the empty room, to Dion wherever he was, to myself. "I'm so sorry."
But I couldn't stay. Not after what I'd said. Not after I'd compared him to the monsters who'd hurt me. The words hadbeen designed to wound, and they'd found their mark with devastating precision.
I twisted my hair into a severe bun, trying to become the professional Emily Carter again.
When I came back, Walker was waiting by the door with his keys. He didn't push for conversation as we got into his truck. It wasn't until we were halfway down Dion's long driveway that I realized I was still clutching Barnaby to my chest. I should have asked Walker to turn around so I could return him, but I couldn't bear the thought of seeing Dion's face again. Not after what I'd said.
"I didn't mean it," I whispered, more to myself than to Walker.
He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "I know."
"I shouldn't have said that to him. Comparing him to... to those men. I was just so angry."
"Anger makes us say things we don't mean," Walker said quietly.
I hugged Barnaby tighter, burying my face in his soft fur to hide the tears that threatened.
Walker was silent for a long moment. "Dion's a good man," he finally said. "The best I know. But he's not perfect. Going through your files without permission was wrong."
I didn't reply.
