Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EMMA
After I realized what Jeffrey had done to me, I was furious. My instinct was to fight back, but every rock I threw was volleyed back at me as a bullet. Even my former friends were quick to believe Jeffrey. It made me feel broken and vulnerable, like a child again, and like a child, I’d come back home.
I’d needed my friends and my mother to build me back up.
Most of all, I’d needed Seamus.
His belief in my strength had changed me. When I was at my lowest, it had made me believe in myself too.
Now, standing outside of Seamus’s apartment, having just closed a door between us, I feel like a piece of my heart was snatched out of my chest and the rest of my body doesn’t know how to operate without it. I’m so hollow my heartbeat seems to echo inside of me.
Even so, leaving the apartment was the right call. The only call. I’m not ready to tell Seamus that I can live with what he did. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
And yet, knowing the truth of what he did hasn’t made me care less. He was in an awful situation, with no clear way out. While the law is black and white, most of real life exists in the gray area between absolutes. He made what he thought was the best decision.
Carrying that awful hollowness inside, I head down to the garage, but instead of going to my car, I find myself gravitating toward Ingrid. I run a hand over her sleek side. I peer into her window. I think about the promise I made to Seamus and the likelihood that I’m going to have to break it…
“You’re not going to steal his car, are you?” Nicole asks conversationally.
I jump, then turn to glare at her. She’s wearing an orange wig and a hideous turquoise coat that’s several sizes too big for her. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you. Your mother told me you were over here, and we have to talk.” Her gaze flickers to the garage ceiling. “But, real quick, what happened with handsome?”
“He’s okay,” I lie. “We…had a talk.”
“So he told you about his past, huh?” she asks as she starts removing pins from her wig. “Did you give him the boot? He’s a shitty personal assistant, but I have to admit it was entertaining as hell to see him have a go at Jeffrey. I internalized it and have been replaying it constantly over the last twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t want to talk about Seamus,” I say in a clipped voice. “He needs to rest.”
“Fine, fine.” She pulls off the orange wig and whirls it around on her finger. “We can handle your romantic life later.”
“ We’re not handling it at all,” I insist, but I find myself touching the car again, as if it’s a part of him. Clearing my throat of emotion, I pull my hand away. “Tell me what this is about.”
It’ll be about Jeffrey and Ellie, and I’m so tired of both of them that I’m tempted to tell her to forget the whole thing. But this isn’t just about getting revenge. This is about fixing what Jeffrey broke. This is about getting my life back.
I’m surprised by the realization that follows this.
I don’t want my old life back.
Not as it was.
My life was full of late nights at that office, of sneaking around with Jeffrey, of drinking alone in my apartment with my laptop open. Of spending time with shallow people and pushing away anyone and anything who might make me feel vulnerable or beholden.
I was lonely.
I was unfulfilled. There had always been a wall between me and the rest of the world, until Seamus showed up with a sledgehammer and tore a hole into it.
The metaphoric evidence is still sitting in my house. Anthony offered to take care of the wall in the study yesterday, but Rosie insisted that Seamus would want to take care of his unfinished business once he was feeling better.
Nicole’s still looking at me, clearly waiting for something.
Sighing, I admit, “I’m sick of Jeffrey and Ellie.”
“Well, bad news for you,” she says with a snort, “because it’s time for that private meeting with Ellie. Damien found something.”
The thought of seeing either of them still feels like getting toothpicks shoved into my nailbeds. But I want to put this to rest. I want to move on. I want to have a future and not be super-glued to a past that hurts.
My mind flits to Seamus. Isn’t that probably how he feels? Trapped by a past he hates? Married to it?
All this time, I haven’t been fighting marriage. I’ve been fighting traps. Both of us know what it is to be stuck in one. It’s obviously why Seamus has been so sweet to Carrot.
A horrible sense of longing gushes through me. Seamus is alone right now, feeling low. He’s alone, and Rosie said that he always self-sabotages when he’s feeling low. I want to go to him, to wrap my arms around his neck and tell him that we can work through this, but I’m still not sure we can. My logical side screams against it. Also…his belief in me made me stronger. I need to believe in him too.
So I steel myself against the feeling, nodding to Nicole. “Okay, let’s go.”
“You’re driving,” she says. “Are we taking this sweet ride?”
Little thief , I hear in my head. Longing tightens its hold on me, but I force myself to shake my head, jaw clamped. “No, we’re taking my hatchback.”
On the way back to Smith House, Nicole fills me in on everything I’ve missed.
Damien believes Jeffrey intends to destroy Ellie, just as he’s destroyed me, as soon as he gets her collateral or confirms she doesn’t have any.
“Why does he think that?” I ask.
“Ole Jeff isn’t half as a good as he thinks he is,” she says, tapping the side of her nose. “He used the hotel wi-fi. I mean, what an idiot. A teenage hacker could probably get through it, and the guy we use is no teenager. Anyway. People use incognito mode thinking no one can cognito them. But our guy got through it, no problem.” She lifts a hand. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. That kind of evidence wouldn’t stand up in court. Obviously. But we don’t need it to. All we need is for Ellie to play for our side.”
“What was he looking up?” I ask.
“Dirty, stanky porn.”
“Oh, come on,” I say, looking out the windshield as I navigate the car.
“You’re no fun. Okay. Get this. Ellie is actually thirty-six.”
I give her a sidelong glance. “She’s twenty-four.”
“She says she’s twenty-four, but she’s actually thirty-six.”
She says it like it’s a smoking gun, but I’m not seeing anything but mist. “So, she lied about her age. Who gives a shit?”
“Millions of shallow people who enjoy nothing better than breaking strangers on the internet! They’ll give lots of shits. Now, some skincare companies might be tripping all over themselves to represent her, because, damn, that girl looks good. But this is a big deal. Not to mention, she forged documents to back up her story, which is illegal, although I doubt he’ll spout off about that since he’s the one who did it. So…yeah. He plans on leaking the truth after he gets her goods. Which is why we need to sweep in and get them first.”
I take the final turn toward Smith House. “So you want me to talk to her. When?”
“Tomorrow evening. You’re getting a drink in the private room at Buchanan Brewery. They love us there.”
“Ellie doesn’t trust me. Why would she say anything?”
She barks a laugh. “I thought you were a lawyer. Isn’t your whole job schmoozing people and convincing them to act against their own interests?”
It’s never been about that for me, but she’s not altogether wrong. My job is to be convincing. To lay out a well-thought-out, evidence-based argument to make my case.
And if I can’t convince Ellie Reed that I’m right?
I can’t convince anyone.