Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Six Months Later
Jack
I hadn’t officially proposed to Emmy yet. One of my orders to her was that when—or if—she was ready for me to, she would tell me.
That didn’t matter because I wasn’t going anywhere and, in our time together, Lilah had confided to me that Emmy was a completely different person now, in every good way imaginable.
We’d slowly developed routines, which built Emmy’s confidence in me. Sometimes it was difficult for us to arrange time alone for kinky activities at home depending on my work schedule or Lilah’s, because neither I nor Emmy wanted her to walk in on us doing shibari in the living room.
And Lilah was in agreement that she didn’t want that, either.
We’d visited Rawhide Ranch eight times since Emmy’s first visit. Lilah went with us on the last two visits, which were for classes where we drove over and back the same day.
While Lilah hadn’t asked me many questions, I know she and Emmy talked about it quite a bit.
Emmy and I even started scening in the Dungeon during our overnight visits to the Ranch, and my rope skills were improving.
She was eager for me to reach a comfortable level of training to start doing “real” suspension with her, as she called it.
All I fully suspended right now were kettle bells because like hell did I want to drop and injure Em.
The farthest I’d “suspended” her was barely lifting her off the ground after tying her in a utilitarian chest and hip harness.
Ironically, I was pretty good with non-kinky rope work because I was trained in climbing and rappelling for rescue situations.
I think that frustrated her even more, because I’d put my foot down and told her that unless she was in an actual climbing harness I wouldn’t fly her in the air yet.
She’s adorable as hell when she pouts, too.
Today, Emmy was at work when Lilah returned home. I wasn’t expecting her because I thought she was supposed to work until late that evening.
Meaning she caught me in the middle of scrubbing the bathrooms, which amused the hell out of her for some reason. I’d already finished hers and the guest bath and was working on ours.
Yes, Sirs do chores if they want to.
I mean, not that I want to do chores, but I’m not a fucking asshole. The three of us share chores and swap them around.
Lilah leaned against the doorframe, smiling, her thumbs hooked in the armholes of her vest.
“Glad she’s got you trained, Smokey.”
That’s her latest in an endless string of well-intentioned nicknames she has for me.
I didn’t mind because she reminded me of my little sister in some ways.
I understood and accepted that Lilah’s way of coping with life and whatever she’d survived was to act crunchy and only trust those who didn’t give up on her and who loved her in spite of it.
“Yeah, well, I’ll never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself. What’s up?”
Her smile faded as she stepped into the room. She withdrew a folded piece of paper from her back pocket and handed it to me.
It turned out to be five pieces of paper. I unfolded them and on the top page was a black and white mugshot of a young woman, along with her info—
“Shit,” I whispered.
Lilah returned to the doorway. “She was pregnant with Emmy when that was taken. Shoplifting. I’m not saying anything to Emmy about this because I didn’t tell her I was digging. I also sent in a DNA sample to a database. Got it from her toothbrush. And, well, second page.”
I flipped to it and scanned the info. Several names, addresses…
“Holy shit!”
“He’s still alive,” she said. “Miles Horton. Doesn’t seem to have a record.
Her younger half-brother does, though. Extensive one.
Currently serving fifteen-to-twenty for possession with intent.
That’s how I tracked Miles down, through her half-brother’s NOK info on file with Corrections.
Honestly, I wasn’t expecting any DNA hits, but where he’s incarcerated, they require DNA swabs from all felony drug convictions.
“My guess is the two of them went to high school together, although I didn’t get that deep into the weeds.
He was seventeen when Em was born, which supports my theory.
She was born in LA and her mother and father were both born in Phoenix, not Dallas.
That was an easy hitchhike or bus ride back then.
He might not have known she was pregnant when she left.
She gave Emmy her own last name, not his.
He’s married and has lived in Tennessee for fifteen years. ”
Took me a second to process that she’d switched from discussing the half-brother to discussing Em’s parents. I stood, skimming through the rest of the info. “What do I do with this?” I looked at her.
Now she studied the floor but she shrugged. “I debated doing anything with it. Part of me hoped he was dead, or a real shitbag, so I could in all good conscience just chuck it.”
She finally met my gaze. “Maternal grandmother’s still alive. Last known address in Georgia. Paternal grandparents are still alive, grandmother in New York state, grandfather in Michigan.”
I paged through it again, stunned. “I mean… I don’t know what to do. She’s never talked about finding them but she’s never talked about not finding them, either.”
“I know,” she softly said. “When we first met, she once said she wished she could find him.”
Then something else hit me. “What about your parents?”
“What about them? My mother was killed by her step-brother during a drunken family brawl when I was three. My father killed him and was sentenced to twenty-five-to-life and died four years into his sentence during a gang fight. I don’t know why neither set of grandparents took me in, but they were all dead by the time I was ten so it doesn’t matter.
I have no interest in finding any aunts or uncles or cousins if I have any. ”
I sat on the edge of the tub and read through it again. “I… I’m at a loss. What do I do with this?”
“I know you guys aren’t having kids. But if there’s heart disease, or cancer, or something like that, it might be worthwhile to know.”
We definitely weren’t having kids because I had my vasectomy two months ago and she was getting her tubes tied in three weeks.
I looked up at her. “I’m going to admit I do not know what to do. You’ve known her most of her life. What’s your opinion?”
“My opinion is you’re better positioned to feel her out, ask questions, nudge her toward making admissions one way or the other.
” She crossed her arms. “I mean, maybe he did know she was pregnant and he demanded she get an abortion. Maybe her parents threw her out. Maybe she ran away, but there weren’t any missing persons reports for her. ”
I read through the info again, but it didn’t change. “Emmy’s doing so good, though,” I said.
“I know.”
“Why now? Why even look?” I loved this woman like a sister but I will admit this irritated me, that now I’d been brought into this without her consulting me first.
“Did she tell you about her mammogram scare last year?”
I shook my head.
“Was nothing, obviously, but she did mention then that she wished she knew her family history. She didn’t ask me to follow up then, but she didn’t ask me to not not follow up, dig?”
I nodded.
“I know she’s a little nervous about getting her tubes tied because despite no reason to be concerned, she’s paranoid they might find something when they do.
But she mentioned it again a couple of weeks ago when she was chastising me for being late getting my mammogram.
A throwaway comment, just being snarky in that way she has that you know she’s trying not to think about something. ”
“Yeah,” I said, knowing exactly what she meant. But Emmy hadn’t mentioned it to me.
“That’s the main reason I looked now, I guess. Because she has you. If it was good news, you could help her. And if it was bad…” She shrugged. “I’d pawn it off on you to decide.”
“Gee, thanks. I think.”
“Jack, she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life. You’re the best thing that ever happened to her.”
I laughed. “Funny. She says that same thing about you, Li. That you’re the best thing that ever happened to her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, too.
I wouldn’t be who I am without her. I didn’t give a shit about myself back then, but I was damned if I’d ever let anyone hurt her or stand in her way.
Maybe not the healthiest way to grow up, I guess, but here I am now, and here she is, and now she has you. And I don’t have any complaints.”
“Except about my cooking skills?” I asked to lighten the suffocating mood.
“Jesusfuck, dude, how can you not make a proper soufflé yet? It’s been six goddamned months.”
Last night’s chocolate soufflé had fallen flatter than a pancake. I still ate it, though, smothered with ice cream.
I grinned. “Well, good thing you’re a patient woman.”
“Gonna start calling you Neelix if you don’t up your game.
Sheesh.” She knocked on the doorframe three times, one of her little habits for luck I’m not even certain she realized she did.
“Lucky for you. I need to get back to it. I won’t say anything to her but if you’re not going to tell her, make sure to do something with those papers so she doesn’t accidentally stumble over them. ”
I heard the front door close behind her a moment later, followed by the sound of her SUV starting and her driving off.
No, I had no clue what to do with this information.
But I needed to figure it out sooner rather than later. I had promised Emmy to never lie to her, never withhold information, no matter what. And I didn’t know how I could keep this from her for any length of time without telegraphing that I was holding something back.
I’m a chickenshit.
I mulled it over for three days and then, when I was at work, I created a new email account, signed up for a social media account with a fake name, and sent Miles Horton a message there.