Chapter Thirty-Two
“You’re getting really good at this,” I laugh as Emma circles me in the backyard, the sun having slipped beneath the horizon. As promised, I’ve been teaching her self-defense, and while she’s no fucking ninja, she’s stronger than she was before, and it makes her laugh.
And that’s something I’m damn near sure I’m in love with.
“I’m going to take you down one of these days,” she giggles, her hair bouncing in the bun on top of her head. “Just you wait.”
“We’ll see, Little Red,” I taunt her as she lunges for me. This time, she makes contact with the nerve near my collarbone—and I see stars for a second. “Nice,” I mutter as I wrap my arms around her bare midriff. She’s lean and toned from hours of doing this every single day. I’ve only noticed because she’s noticed, really. And in all her noticing, I’ve realized I’ll take her however she comes.
She kisses my jaw, and then breaks away from me, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “What time do we leave tomorrow?”
My stomach knots up. “I don’t know yet. I still have to talk to Jude.”
She nods and then turns to grab her water bottle. I keep my eyes trained on her ass and legs, using it as a distraction. The voice of Victor in my head isn’t there when I’m with her anymore, but our glimpse of normalcy is almost over.
Tomorrow is day zero.
And nothing is going as planned. I don’t have Ivan’s location. Henry and Lydia still don’t know Emma is safe with me. And as much as it pains me, I have to take her to them tomorrow. And leave her in their protection until I can find Ivan. Otherwise, we’ll become sitting ducks when her face hits the news again.
And that’s something I still haven’t come to terms with.
Emma has been mine. My secret. My whole fucking world away from the world. Now, I have to risk what will happen when she steps back out into reality—and I can’t go with her. My face can’t be broadcasted on multiple news channels. I can’t be connected to her. At all. It’s too big of a risk.
“What’s wrong?” Emma cuts into my thoughts, peering back at me. “You look stressed. Is it Ivan?” She knows so much about everything; she could expose us all.
“I still haven’t heard anything,” I maintain telling her the truth, even though sometimes I question if she does the same for me. Something shifted in her the night of the chamber, and it hasn’t been the same ever since. At first I thought she had finally broken down and let it all out—like Jude had mentioned.
But with how hard she trains and throws punches, I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t just birthing pains of something much, much more terrifying.
“Will we still go?”
“Yeah, we will, and once you’re with my friends, you can call your divorce attorney.” I have a phone for her waiting with Jude. She’s going to be connected back to the world in less than twenty-four hours—and I hope whatever is simmering inside of her is under enough control to be contained.
“And you’ll be there?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her, which only makes me more nervous. “I can’t make that promise.” She bites down on her lip, and I thumb away a drop of sweat from her temple. “But I’ll be back for you. No matter what.”
“Is that at least a promise?”
“Of course, it is.” But I can’t look her in the eye. I have to face someone that has twenty years of experience on me—and I’ve failed three times in killing someone. I’m not sure if the third really counts, but for the sake of going up against Ivan, it does. He’s been the elusive ghost in my dreams since the life dissipated from Manny’s eyes, and Emma’s been my greatest distraction.
“It’ll be okay,” Emma reassures me, grabbing my hand. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Will we?” I blurt out, feeling like a fucking child.
Her eyes flicker with an emotion I can’t read anytime it shows up. “I guess if we don’t, then it wasn’t supposed to work out. I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me.”
I tense my jaw. “Yeah.” I don’t push it. She’s protecting her feelings. We haven’t expressed love for each other. How could we? We’re in the middle of a fucking nightmare situation. She has to go home and show her face to keep her divorce and inheritance. I have to face the thorn in my side—after I find him.
And that could take months.
But I haven’t told her that.
“Can we at least talk?” Emma’s question confuses me.
“We are talking,” I chuckle, giving Major a pat as we head for the door.
“No, I mean, once you drop me off,” she says carefully. “Can we at least talk? Like can I have your phone number or something?”
“I don’t know.”
She frowns, stopping me before we step inside. “So, you’re going to just… drop me off and leave? Then what do I do? Wait for you to show up?”
“Possibly.” I cringe as the word leaves my mouth. “But it’s not because I don’t want to talk to you. It’s just about—”
“Keeping me safe,” she snaps at me, shaking her head. “It’s always about keeping me safe.” I raise my brows as Emma stalks off inside, and my stomach knots up. This isn’t how I wanted to end this stint of our time together. I need us to be on a high. I need her to want me when this is over.
Because I have no fucking clue how I’d cope without her, and the fear of her choosing to leave is more terrifying than ever before.
“You’re lost in your head today,” Emma says as she sets Major’s dog food down on the floor for him. “I can tell.”
I force a smile. “Well, Little Red, big changes are coming tomorrow.”
“Because this is over.” She motions between the two of us.
“This,” I mimic her gesture, “Will never be over.”
“But you’re saying you’re leaving,” she counters. “You’re saying you’re going to disappear, and I won’t have a clue when—or if—you’re coming back.”
“I promised I’d come back,” I exasperate. “Don’t fucking pick a fight tonight, Emma. You think I want to leave you? No, but I have to. I have to get ahead of the shitstorm.”
“You could take me with you. I’ve done all this working out, and self-defense training, and I can read the GPS on the computer to keep tabs for you. I can—”
“No!” I lose it. “You’re not going to do any of that. You’re going to stay where the fuck I tell you to, and then you’re going to wait for me to come back.”
“Just trading one prison for another, I see.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I clench my fists, tempted to throw the fucking chair across the room. Somehow, I always keep it together, and I turn around and head for the door instead. “Don’t leave.”
“What do you want me to do then?” I turn around to face her. “I made the choice to let you live, and we both have to suffer the fucking consequences of that.”
Hurt flashes across her face. “You didn’t have to kill your partner.”
My chest burns. “You know what would’ve happened had I not? He’d have killed you behind my back. He’d have found a way to get to you. I did what I had to do, and I’ll continue to do what I have to—and you better fucking believe your ex-husband is on that list.” I shouldn’t have let that slip, as it’s a subject we’ve not touched since that day in the cave with Jude.
“You won’t.” Her voice comes out stern and cold. “You won’t touch him.”
Anger sears through my veins as I close the distance between us. “Since when do you get to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
She puffs up to me, her own anger etched in her face. “Since you get to tell me what to do.”
“You just really fucking think letting the bastard live is enough punishment, huh? Or is it something more, Emma? Is there something you need to tell me?”
She glares at me, but that emotion I hate comes back to her eyes. “Fuck you, Luca.” She makes a shove at my chest, and I swallow the surprise. It’s the most fired up I’ve seen her—and it’s in defense of him.
Again. Him. Why is it always him?
I don’t even have any words for her, but she seems to have more than enough to spew at me.
“You think you can order me around, and you get to control everyone in my life?” she yells at me, shoving my chest again. “You get to leave and blow off talking to me.” Shove. “You get to decide who lives or dies.” Shove. “You get to break all the fucking rules you want to, and you don’t care what I think or feel.” Shove.
I barely move with every hit, taking it with absolutely no emotion. This must be what Victor talked about when he mentioned love. When you fucking love someone, you become someone you don’t recognize. I’d go to battle for this woman, and I’ll take hits from her…
But she’s going to battle for him. I’m just the punching bag.
“Go to bed,” I tell Emma, my voice strained.
“More instructions,” she snaps. “Great.”
“Just go away!” I break into a roar on the last word, finally startling her. I instantly feel guilty, but the pain is so much more unbearable.
“You really just don’t get it,” she mumbles, shaking her head and then disappearing from the room.
I do get it. You love him.
I pick up the chair and hurl it across the room, the wooden frame splintering against the fridge. Fucking moisture rims my eyes, and I’ve never been so fucking pissed in my life. Her loser ex-husband is the only thing that ever leads to a fight between us, and it’s the most enraging thing I’ve ever felt.
The buzz of my phone grabs my attention, and I pull it out of my pocket, seeing a California number. It’s not Jude. But it’s not blocked.
I connect the call and lift the phone to my ear.
“Ah, so now you pick up,” Ivan’s voice laughs. My hands instantly begin to shake. “Fights are tough, aren’t they?” I nearly drop my phone.
“Where the fuck are you?” I choke out, glancing to the window.
“Well, I’d ask the same thing to you, but I finally found you, tucked away in your little oasis with your lover. Did you fuck in the pool of my son’s blood?”
I grit my teeth. “Where are you?”
“We could’ve just met for lunch, you know. We didn’t have to do it like this. Victor would’ve been so disappointed in you.”
My head swirls, sweat beads up across my forehead. I head for the pantry, slipping into the windowless room. “He’d be disappointed in a lot of things,” I say as I put the phone on speaker and send the trace information to Jude.
“He always said you’d never last. He said you were broken before he ever got you. I thought he was wrong, until you got him killed. And now you’ve taken one too many people from my life, Luca. One too many. Victor might not have loved you, but I loved Manny.”
My phone buzzes. Jude sends coordinates along with, He faked his location being right outside the house to fuck with you. Go get him. I’ll keep you updated.
I hang up on Ivan, no longer needing his call. “Shit.” My heart jumps, and I gaze toward the stairs. Emma. I rush to the kitchen and rip the drawer open, grabbing a notepad and pen.
Got a location. I have to go now.
I drop the pen and grab my silenced Glock from the top of the fridge. However, as I go for the garage, I stop, shaking my head. There’s no guarantee I’ll make it out of this—and she needs to know.
I jog back to the notepad, and I write what I really should’ve said in the middle of the argument.
I love you, Little Red.