Chapter 66
RIGGS
Emily not only found paint in Dent’s old workshop, she also found stencils, brushes, and a few odds and ends. Within a few hours, she had the plain-looking cabinet I bought online from a big box hardware store turned into something that looks like it jumped off Pinterest and landed on Gem’s porch.
“This is amazing,” I tell her, opening one of its freshly painted doors to look inside.
Emily not only found regular paint, she also found a small can of chalkboard paint that she used to paint the inside of one of the doors so Gem can write out her product list and prices.
On the opposite door she painted and hung an old mailbox for cash payments and lined the shelves with the same floral printed contact paper Gem used to line the kitchen cabinets.
She found some old baskets in the attic and scrubbed them clean before putting them on the lined shelves to hold whatever cookies and pastries Gemma decides to bake.
She even made a yard sign that says Gem’s Goodies out of the SOLD sign she stole from the Wilsons’ front yard. “Thanks, Emily.”
“It’s for Gemma,” she says, giving me a shrug like it explains everything.
“The realtor’s going to be mad when she comes back to get her sign and she sees what you did to it,” I say, laughing while I move to shut the cabinet door.
“She better not be after the huge commission I paid her,” Emily says with an off handed laugh. “She made enough money off of me to buy a hundred signs.”
It takes a few seconds to get what she’s saying.
“You bought the Wilsons’ house?”
“I did.” Bobbing her head, she aims a look at it down the length of the porch. “When Gemma told me they put it up for sale, I knew it was now or never. I made a cash offer that day.”
“So you and your husband are relocating to Barrett?” I ask carefully, trying to find a balance between gathering information and being as noninvasive as possible.
“No.” She shakes her head, her mouth flattening into a grim, determined line. “Kevin will be staying in North Carolina.”
“How will that work?” I ask, probing as gently as I can. “You here and him there?”
“It won’t,” she tells me with a shrug. “I had him served with divorce papers yesterday.”
I make a low, neutral sound in the back of my throat. “I can’t imagine he was very happy about that.”
“Which is why I was on a plane, halfway to Dallas, when it happened,” she tells me.
When I don’t have anything else to say, Emily sighs.
“Gemma told you, didn’t she?” She asks, flicking a quick look in my direction.
When I don’t confirm or deny, she sighs.
“It’s okay—I’m not angry. I wish she’d talked to me first, but?—”
“Gem didn’t tell me,” I tell her plainly.
“When I woke up alone this morning, I went up stairs to check on her.” Looking away, I swallow hard against the thought of the deep, ugly bruises I saw beaten into her ribcage and back.
“The two of you were sleeping in her bed. Your pajama top was lifted a bit and I saw them.”
“Oh.” Chewing on her upper lip for a moment, Emily moves to lean against the porch railing, arms folded defensively over her chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I ask, fighting to keep my tone as even as possible. “From the looks of it, that son-of-a-bitch beat the shit out of you. What do you have to be sorry for?”
Instead of answering me, she just looks at the house she bought and shrugs.
Shit.
“Full disclosure,” I say because I might as well get it over with. “I told Colt, so if you’re planning on staying, be prepared for him to get involved.”
When I say it, Emily drops her arms and whips her head around to aim a wounded, wide-eyed look in my direction. “What? Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know your husband,” I tell her calmly.
“But I’ve known men like him. A man that is capable of doing that to a woman doesn’t just let her go when she’s finally had an enough and walks away.
He’ll come after you and when he does, Gemma will be standing right in front of you.
I can’t let her get hurt.” I don’t talk about my worry for her because it’s Gemma she cares about most. Gemma she’ll see reason for.
“Colt is the sheriff and he lives right across the street—he needs to know what’s going on. ”
“Okay.” Reaching up, she swipes an errant tear off her pale cheek. “You’re right.” Looking away for a moment, she seems to be struggling with something before she finally says it. “Do you think he’ll tell Cade?” The thought seems to bother her.
Thinking about the way Colt reacted when I told him that his brother is the one who found Emily sleeping on Gem’s porch last night and how worried he seemed about it, I shake my head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Nodding her head, Emily takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “That’s good.”
Before either of us can say anything else, Colt’s truck rounds the corner, heading in our direction.
By the time it pulls into his driveway across the street, Emily’s cheeks are dry and she’s smiling like nothing happened.
Like we weren’t just talking about her abusive husband and the fact that even though she left him and moved half-way across the country, there’s very little chance that he’s actually going to let her go.
Following her lead, I put our conversation on hold and watch while Gemma jumps out of Colt’s truck, wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear while she rushes across the street to meet us in the yard. “What’s this?” she asks, stopping in front of the yard sign Emily painted for her.
“This is your new microbakery,” Emily says, framing the sign with her hands and a cheeky grin.
Mystified and still grinning, Gemma throws herself at Emily. “Thank you, Emmie,” she sniffles, on the verge of tears. “You don’t know how much?—”
“Whoa.” Pain flashing across her face, Emily gives her a quick hug before setting Gemma back. “This wasn’t me—this was Riggs.”
“What?” More surprised than I would’ve liked, Gem turns her wide hazel gaze in my direction. “Riggs?—”
“No.” Shaking my head, I swallow the lump in my throat. “You had it right the first time—all I did was buy a basic tool shed and build a couple shelves. Emily is the one who pulled it all together.”
“But it was your idea?” she asks quietly, tears welling in her eyes.
“It was one hundred percent his idea,” Emily tells her before I can say anything. “I’m just happy he let me help.” Flicking Colt a look, she gives him a uncomfortable smile. “Hey, Colt.”
“Hey, Em…” Colt smiles, offering her a flat smile of his own.
“Good to have you home.” A quick look at me tells him that I’ve already outed myself.
He knows that I told her what I saw this morning and I’ve involved him myself, rather than wait for something to happen.
“Looks like you better get inside and start baking,” he says to Gem, leaning in to press one of his brotherly kisses to her temple.
Brotherly or not, every time he does it, I want to choke him—which is probably why he does it.
“Later, Riggs.” Flashing me an asshole smirk, he crosses the street before disappearing through his front door.
Turning to look at me, Gemma smiles. “Did my packing supplies come?” she asks, suddenly looking nervous.
“They did.” I give her a nod. “Everything is waiting for you on the kitchen table.”
“Okay…” Bobbing her head, Gemma takes a big breath, letting it out in a slows steady stream. “I guess I’m really going to do this?”
“You bet your ass you are,” Emily says, laughing. “Now you heard the man—get in there and start baking.”