Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
E MERALD
I chip away at my nail varnish as I watch officer after officer do their rounds of the cells. Officer Rawlins brought me a bag of chips and a bottle of water and comes to check on me once in a while.
I don’t know how long it’s been since Saint left. I don’t know how long it’s been since I let the tears fall.
“Still doing okay, Ms. Fiorelli?”
“Yeah, still the same since you last came in like half an hour ago.” I look carefully at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“I owe Saint a couple favors. Looking out for you is just me being a good cop.”
I manage a grin. “Pretty sure being on the Imperiosi’s payroll negates that.”
“Maybe. But I’d rather not answer to Saint if something were to happen. I like breathing.”
Of course. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Just holler if you need something, okay?” As nice as Officer Rawlins is, he’s still a cop, and being around them makes me feel more than a little uneasy. I chew the inside of my cheek as I stare at the blank brick wall.
Is this Saint’s way of figuring things out ? By telling some cop to keep an eye out for me while I’m in this godforsaken place ? It’s got to be late by now. I’ve taken to tossing the bottle of water in the air to pass the time.
He could have bailed me out.
He could have left with me in tow.
Instead, he just walked away.
‘ You and me, we were never fake .’ And my heart plummets as I think it was just another Saint lie in the long list of them. I let the bottle fall to the floor with a hollow thud before me.
“Alright, Ms. Fiorelli, you’re free to go.”
My brow puckers. “ What ?”
“The charges were dropped. Sorry for the hold up. You know, paperwork and all that.”
I stare as Officer Rawlins opens the cell door. “But I don’t understand?”
“You don’t wanna leave?”
“Uh, no,” I say quickly, bolting out of the cell before he can change his mind and following him down the hall. “I thought the owner was adamant about throwing me in jail?”
He shrugs. “Change of heart or something like that.”
A change of heart? Hardly. I shake my head as he guides me toward where another officer is pouring my things from a plastic bag.
“You can go on and change in there,” the second officer directs me.
“Uh, thanks.” I grab my clothes, trying to put things together. Did Saint manage to do this? Jesus, did he kill the woman who owns the boutique ? My heart thumps in my chest. He did. There’s no other way around it. Oh God…
I quickly change back into my jeans, sweater, and jacket. I scoop up the chessboard keychain from the table, and after gazing at it for a few long moments, I slip it into my pocket. And then I’m buzzed out of the custody area and find Saint leaning against the wall and waiting for me.
“You know, you need to stick to more legal activities during your free time, Emerald.”
“Says the assassin.”
“Christ, keep your voice down until we’re at least out of here.” He looks me up and down. “Is that outfit warm enough?”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s cold out there,” he says, pushing from where his shoulder rests against the wall. He’s wearing a black sweater, leather jacket, and light scarf. It shouldn’t make him look as good as it does, and I curse myself for even noticing.
“I’ll be fine. How’d you do it, Saint?”
“What?”
“How’d you get them to drop the charges? Is the owner still alive? Did you threaten her? Put a lean on her?”
“Put a lean on her?” he asks, brow arched. The corner of his lip tugs up, and despite everything—despite the gaping hole in my chest—his smile makes my stomach flip. He unwinds his black scarf and wraps it around my neck, his gentle touch making me shiver. “No, I didn’t put a lean on her—not sure what the hell that even means. I didn’t kill her or threaten her.”
“But if you didn’t do those things, then how did you do it?”
He shakes his head as he pushes open the doors to the outside.
I grab his arm. “Tell me how you did it.”
“I bought the boutique.”
“What?”
“Keep walking, Emerald. The kids’ play date is almost up, and my men will be bringing them home soon. I’m not going to hear the end of it if I’m late making their dinner.”
But I stop in my tracks. “And since when did you start caring about play dates and stuff like that?”
He whirls around. “Since you came into my life.”
I hesitate for a second, not sure if he’s telling me the truth about any of it—the boutique, the caring about the kids’ play dates, and everything else.
He looms over me. I swallow thickly as I look up at him. “I bought the boutique, Emerald. And as owner, I get to decide whether to drop the charges.”
I blink before searching his eyes for some hint he’s lying. This is some joke. It has to be. Why would he do something like buying the boutique if he could just go in and threaten or kill the owner? Is he lying because he doesn’t want me to think he’s bad for killing someone? But looking into his gaze, I see no hint of lies. And the only thing I see is something that makes my body tingle and throat run dry. I feel my brow tug up as I continue to stare up at him. “You really bought it? A whole dress store…?”
“I really bought it.”
“That’s crazy, Saint. You know that, right?”
He tilts his head to one side and gives me a look. “'No more crazy than you stealing yet another dress to add to the one hundred and thirty-six unworn stolen dresses you already have in your closet.”
“Hold on, you counted them ?” I mean, I know I went a bit overboard with my stealing when I was living in that small town, but still, incredulity drips from my voice over the fact that he counted them.
He shrugs. “I was trying to distract myself from worrying about where the hell you were. Em, you don’t need to steal these damn dresses. I’ll buy you any dress you want. Hell, I’ve just bought you another six hundred and eighty-seven dresses that come with the boutique, so you can have all of those too. Just please stop stealing before you get yourself into big trouble.”
“I wasn’t actually stealing this time. The owner recognized me from a previous time I stole something. I wasn’t thinking, and it was so stupid of me to return to the same place.”
“Well, the charges are dropped now, Emerald.”
I can’t believe he just bought a whole boutique. My mouth parts slightly, and I try to find words to protest it all. But the emotion I see in his dark eyes dries them up before they can even form.
His hand cups my face, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek. “You, the baby, your siblings. You’re my family. And I’ll do anything to protect that. There isn’t a goddamn thing in this world I wouldn’t do to prove to you that I’m not lying. I’m not the greatest with this shit. But I’m trying here, Em.”
My heart is lodged in my throat.
“Em, say something…please.”
“Why not just post the bail?”
“It can’t go to court if the charges are dropped.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”
“I’m thinking…processing. Not all of us have your stupidly fast brain.”
He shakes his head before he starts walking again out of the precinct with a curt nod to a few of the officers.
I follow him, and we walk through the parking lot to the car. I curl into my coat a little more, not ready to admit that his scarf does help with the biting cold. “You can’t just buy a boutique and expect it all to be fine, Saint?—”
He steps closer, trapping me between the car door and his body. My heart races in my chest as he looks down at me.
“Em, stop talking and just listen.”
“You don’t get to boss me around.”
“Oh, I sure as hell do.”
I want to protest, but I can’t. Because the man’s just bought a whole goddamn dress boutique so I can avoid criminal charges and court.
My heart does that little flip it always seems to do around Saint.
And I wait for him to continue.
Because I’m too damn curious to stop now...