26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
D eclan
I tap my hand on the wheel as I drive, vaguely unsettled. I want to pretend it’s because of all the work I have to do when I get back. Or maybe it's because I haven't checked in on Amelia yet, but the truth is that my uneasy feelings are directed at Emma.
Beautiful, sweet, Emma.
I meant everything I said to her back in that cave. She’s such a lovable person and deserves a man who is just as sweet as her, who will give her all the time and affection she deserves, and who worships the ground she walks on.
I'm not that man.
And the fact that I want to growl and pounce just imagining her with another man proves that I'm not the kind of person who can put her needs above my selfish desire. If I was, I would have let her go already.
Or I would never have started this affair in the first place.
I’ve known since the beginning that this was going to be a disaster. It’s borderline sinful for a man like me to be with Emma.
Not only am I significantly older than her, but I’m also more jaded and, as Rachel would put it, more ‘emotionally constipated.’ Emma is the type of person who only knows how to give and give, and I have no problem taking.
So I simply don’t have the right tools to give her what she needs.
Even though a little part of me really fucking wishes I did.
I clench my fingers around the wheel.
So, what the fuck do I do now?
I did the right thing by telling Emma the truth and not letting her think this was something more than it was. Even though it gutted me to see the hurt in her eyes, it's better she hurts now rather than later.
It would be even better for her if she simply stayed away from me.
Or I could do her a favor and stay away from her.
I chuckle humorlessly. But that's not going to happen, is it?
Emma has somehow needled herself somewhere deep inside my psyche and has quickly become an addiction.
Even now the hunger to be with her strums through me and tautens into a tight string that grows even tighter the farther away I get from her.
I want to rush through my afternoon work so I can see her again. Maybe I can take her to the ice cream place she was telling me about. Maybe we can bring some home and I can eat it off her body.
Despite myself, a genuine smile spreads across my lips. That seems like a splendid idea.
The thought of breaking off what I have with Emma makes me slightly breathless with anxiety. Like my world gets a little darker without her in it.
I don't want to think of what that means for us when I eventually have to leave Lakewood.
I stop by the police station on my way back, realizing I forgot to tell the officer about the few times I believed that there was an intruder on my property. Once or twice, I’ve sensed something rustling in the bushes across the lake. I’ve always thought it was an animal, but there would be nothing there when I approached.
It may or may not be related to the pearls in the basement, but I should probably mention it just in case.
Although I doubt the elderly cop I spoke to cared much about doing a thorough investigation. They’re certainly not the NYPD, but I guess I have no choice but to rely on the local police at this stage.
Perhaps,I can hire my own private investigator...if this goes nowhere.
As I pull up into the parking lot, I spot the older officer I spoke to earlier locking up the front door. I frown as I park the Suburban and climb out. It’s not even dark yet.
"Things close this early in Lakewood?" I inquire as I approach him. He spins around and notices it’s me.
"Don’t sneak up on me like that, bud," he says, pressing a hand over his chest. "You’re liable to give me a heart attack."
I don’t point out that, as a cop, he should probably have better reflexes and environmental awareness. I’m used to things in Lakewood not working as they should.
Instead, I read the sign by the door that bears the working hours. "That says you close up at eight."
He glances at it. "Yes, but that’s just a few hours from now. Besides, I got called over to Old Man Crane's house and there’s no one else here to cover my shift."
I cock my head at him, alarm clanging in my skull. "What?"
"Yeah. Eddie was supposed to come in today, but he got into it with his old lady, and you wouldn’t believe what she did to his truck tires –"
"I couldn’t give two shits about Eddie’s truck tires," I snarl at him and he takes a step back affronted. "What do you mean you called out to Crane's house?"
"Oh." He frowns. "Well...I just got a call from his granddaughter that someone broke into the house and messed up the place. I’m going over there to check it out."
A ringing starts in my ears, and it echoes the sudden, rapid beat of my chest. It’s a sensation that grows and grows until I think I go crazy.
Emma.
Someone broke into Emma’s house.
I just left her there and someone broke into her house.
The terror almost renders me speechless, but I have to ask, "Is she okay?"
"I think so. She said she wasn’t there when it happened, so she doesn’t know who did it. She showed up after her house got broken into."
A modicum of relief floods through me. At least I didn’t leave her with a fucking intruder who could have attacked her or done God knows what to her.
Jesus don't even think about it. The thought of it makes me sick and raging mad.
My mind still runs wild with dizzying possibilities. When did the break-in happen? This morning? Or last night?
God, what would have happened if she’d gone home last night? Would she have met the bastard?
I break out into cold sweat just thinking about it. Was it some divine intervention that made her sleep at my house yesterday? Or did she already feel something was wrong?
Was that why she didn't want to go home? In that case, why didn’t she fucking tell me? I never would have left her alone if I knew.
"You know, bud, people would like you better if you smiled more and didn't look like you wanted to murder people all the time."
I glare at the officer who holds his hands up defensively. "Just making an observation. Anyway, I gotta go now."
"I’m coming with you," I tell him and he pauses for a moment then shrugs.
"You’re a free man. I can’t tell you where to be."
And with that, he ambles toward his police car on the side, while I head back to the Suburban.
I beat him back to Emma’s place by at least a good fifteen minutes. Some of that is because of how slow the man drives, but mostly I think I also break a few road rules to get there in time. The old officer could probably arrest me for that, but I doubt he will. It's clear he's not that proactive about doing his job.
When I get there, Emma is outside, pacing on her porch and biting her nails. As my car speeds to a stop in front of her, she glances up and her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"Declan?" Her voice sounded shocked as I bolt out of the car. "What are you—"
"Are you okay?’ I’m on her in an instant, my hand in her elbows dragging her to me. "Are you hurt?" The officer said she wasn’t, but I want to confirm for myself.
She shakes her head slowly, clearly still surprised as I run my hands down her arm, and then down her body to make sure myself. Only when I confirm she's not physically harmed, do I feel some of the tightness ease from my chest.
I glance behind her through the open front door. From here, I spot her overturned couch and a lamp with the shade off, the bulb hanging by the wire. The TV is also on the floor with shards of glass surrounding it.
"What happened?"
"I’m not sure," she answers. "After you dropped me off I went into my house and found it like this. I don’t have any idea who did it."
"Not even any suspects?"
She shakes her head. "I don’t have any enemies in Lakewood. Neither does Grandpa. We’re not rich either so there's nothing to steal. I’ve been cracking my head about who could have done this, but I don’t know."
"Relax." I rub her shoulders, hearing the restrained anxiety in her tone. Now that some of the panic has cleared from my system, I continue scanning the damage. Plates broken on the floor. Light fixtures torn down. It seems like an unnecessary amount of chaos for a thief. It’s almost like whoever was here was trying to make as much of a mess as possible.
Was it a vendetta or were they trying to cover up whatever they took?
"Did you notice anything missing?" I ask.
"I haven’t had a chance to check. I’ve kind of been too spooked to go inside."
I nod. "Smart. The assailant could still be there."
"No, I saw him run off already."
My eyes bug out. "You saw him."
"Well...kinda. More like his shadow or at least I think that's what I saw. Could have been an animal."
"What the–you saw him and you're still here? Jesus, Emma."
She shrugs. "I don't have a car, and I didn't have anywhere else to go."
"You should have called me." If the assailant was here when she got back, the break-in must have happened early this evening. Odd time for a break-in, unless they knew specifically that she wasn't home.
"Any stalkers?" I ask. "Or have you noticed anyone following you lately?"
She thinks about it for a second, then shakes her head. "Lakewood is a safe town. I don’t know anyone who would do this."
"Nowhere is truly safe," I tell her. I live in a gated community in a million-dollar condo in New York and there was recently a heavily organized robbery in the condo a few streets away from me. They caught the guys who did it, but still. I keep tight security around my home for a reason. I might be willing to risk myself but not my daughter.
It looks like I’m going to have to get security here, too. I didn't think I would need it but apparently, I underestimated Lakewood.
I finally enter the cottage with Emma at my back, further analyzing the damage. While we poke around, I hear the cop car ambling up the driveway.
While I poke around, the officer’s car finally ambles down.
"You were doing eighty in a fifty-five, buddy," is the first thing the officer says to me when he enters the room, pinning me with a disapproving look.
"And you were doing a twenty," I say.
He thinks about it, then shrugs. "Fair point."
"Hey, Officer Jensen," Emma says wanly.
"Fine evening, Emma." He winces. "Well maybe not for you, but…"
"Got anything to collect prints with?" I ask.
Officer Jensen nods and gestures to a small toolkit he's carrying. "Yup. Now I have a few questions for you and then y'all need to clear out while I do my investigating."
I share a look with Emma. I have absolutely no confidence that this man has the tools to perform a thorough investigation, but he seems to be all they have in this town.
Emma gives me a weak smile and a shrug, that tells me she agrees. But also seems to say, "But what can we do?"
I make a mental note to have my PA contact the best PI in New York and fly him out ASAP. The bastard who did this is getting caught, if it's the last thing I do.
In fact, I would like him to get caught personally, so I could deal with him myself, outside of the law.
A few minutes later, Emma finishes answering the officer's question about what she knows, which is very little, and then I drive her back to the hotel. Amelia and Sandy aren't there, and after I shoot the former a quick text, she lets me know that they went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner.
Good. It gives me time to talk to Emma alone.
"I gotta wash my hands," Emma mumbles as she heads down to the bathroom next to my former bedroom.
The door closes and I give her a few minutes, pacing the living room in the meantime, but even after five minutes she hasn't come out yet.
I head over and knock on the door. "Emma?"
No answer.
I try to door handle, and it's unlocked.
"I'm coming in," I warn her before I open the door, catching her staring into her reflection, her hands in the sink with no running water.
"Emma?"
She suddenly jolts and then peeks at me, blushing. "Sorry, I just...this is a lot. A lot has just been happening lately."
"I understand," I tell her. I shut the door behind me and move to her. Her expression looks so overwhelmed that I want to promise her everything will be okay. "You've been under a lot of stress lately."
She nods and her throat bobs as she swallows.
I run my hand over her cheek, and she leans into my touch. So sweet.
"Emma, why didn't you call me to come pick you up after you realized there was an intruder?" It was the thing that kept bugging me. Because what if the guy had decided to stick around? What if he'd hurt her?
Emma blinks at me in surprise. "Why would I call you?"
Ouch! That was just about the worst thing she could say to me.
It feels like an attack, like a shot right through the chest, that's how much it hurts. But I can tell from her expression that she didn't mean it that way.
She was simply expressing how she felt.
"How can you say that?" I ask, not shocked to find my voice raspy. "Why wouldn't you call me?"
"I don't want to be a burden."
"A burden?"
"Yeah. It's not like we're dating or anything," she says. "You shouldn't have to take care of me and my drama. So I called the police instead."
It's not like we're dating or anything.
Oh, the bitter irony.
Of course. It was what I implied to her, after all.
And the gentle matter-of-fact tone makes it worse.
And the very worst part is that this is all my fault. I made her feel like she was a burden with my callousness.
"You could never be a burden to me, Emma," I whisper. I don't have the words to make it better, or to make her understand just how much she has come to mean to me, so I lean in and kiss her instead.