Emma
It was the middle of the night when I woke to find Carter slipping from the bed. I sat up, groggy, and looked at the clock. 3 am. Then I heard the knocking.
“Who is that?”
Carter looked back at me, pulling a shirt on. “There was no warning. I’m assuming it’s one of the guards.” But after he pulled some pants on and reached for his gun, I knew there was a question to that statement. He gripped the weapon in one hand and bent down to press his lips to my forehead. “I suppose you’re not going to go back to sleep.”
As he straightened, I threw off the covers and clambered for my own clothes. I snorted. “Are you kidding me?”
His eyes darkened in disapproval. “You stay back. I mean it, Emma.”
I threw him a quick frown, hopping on one leg as I struggled to pull my jeans up. Sleepiness,
