She fought him, as he’d expected. “Let me go!” “No. You can’t help Sissy by getting yourself shot. Calm down. Think. There must be something sensible we can do.” There were tears in Emma’s eyes when she looked up at him. “What? You tell me and I’ll gladly do it.” Still struggling, she added, “Otherwise, let me go.” Instead, he pulled her closer. Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to go after Blake and the child, while the saner side of his brain insisted it could be literal suicide. In the background, Travis heard his aunt phoning the emergency number shared by the sheriff, police and fire departments. As she explained the situation and reported that the child and her father were no longer on scene, he could tell by her responses that she was not happy. “What’s that got to do with it?” Cleo demanded. “Just go get him.”
