Chapter 17 - Emmett
I finally got to shower with my girl, and the wait was worth it. She even let me wash her hair. That just might’ve been the closest thing to a religious experience I’d ever get. And now we were curled up together in her bed, and I wasn’t sure how this could get better.
Delilah traced the curving lines of one of my chest tattoos while I dozed, my fingers tangled in her hair that was still warm from being blow-dried.
“Em?” I hummed in response. Her voice came out small, unsure. “What are we doing?”
My eyes snapped open. The glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling blurred. I forced amusement into my voice. “I think this is called cuddling.”
She propped herself up on her elbow, no trace of humor on her face. My throat tightened slightly. “I’m serious. What is this? What was that on the couch?”
My body instantly went cold. My stomach twisted so hard it hurt. Like it’d gotten tangled in barbed wire. “I don’t know.”
It was a lie. The first one I’d ever said to her in all the time I’d known her.
I knew exactly what this was, what I wanted.
I just couldn’t ask her for it. I couldn’t be that selfish with her.
I refused. I had too much baggage, too many demons to constantly fight off.
And I couldn’t ask her to fight them with me.
I couldn’t ask anyone to take on a burden like that.
She sat up, my shirt slipping over her shoulder. “How can you not know? We’ve been sleeping together for a month.”
I wanted to say it. The words were right there. I’d hoped she felt them earlier on the couch. But she was looking at me like I’d disappointed her, and nothing came out.
“This wasn’t even supposed to be going on for this long,” she continued. “It was supposed to just happen once.”
“I know that.” I couldn’t shake the tremor in my voice. I couldn’t shake this sinking feeling in my chest. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion—seeing that split second when one thing goes wrong and sparks a chain reaction of destruction, but feeling helpless to stop it.
“Then why did you show up here tonight? Why did you confront Ethan? Why did you spend all that time looking for Willow?”
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. A desperate attempt to keep the words I didn’t deserve to say inside. I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know, Delilah.”
Her expression hardened. The questions shot out fast like bullets and hit me just as hard.
“Why did you come after me when Claire and I fought? She told me you were going to quit if we hadn’t made up.
Why would you do that? Why would you jeopardize your relationship with your family like that? Why do any of it?”
I sat on the edge of the bed, burying my head in my hands.
I couldn’t stand seeing her so upset. Not then, and definitely not now, when she was about to end this.
One of the few good things I had in my life.
It felt like being split in two—half of me begging to tell her everything, half too scared she’d laugh in my face for it.
“Emmett,” Delilah snapped when I didn’t say anything.
I flew off the bed. “What, Delilah? What do you want me to say? That I hate seeing you hurt? That it killed me watching Claire tear into you like that? And that watching you cry after broke my fucking heart? Just like it did when you were so worried when Willow went missing. Just like when Ethan pulled the funding, and you doubted yourself. Is that what you want to hear?”
She was kneeling on her bed, cheeks wet. “But why? It never bothered you before.”
The way her voice cracked with the desperation for an explanation I was too big a coward to give gutted me. “Because you’re important to me. You always have been.” Had I not made that obvious? Did she forget what I’d said at the creek? What I just said an hour ago on her couch?
She let out a bitter laugh. “Bullshit. You hated me before we started fucking.”
“Now that’s not true.” I sat back on the bed, taking her hand. “Yeah, we bickered all the time, but I’ve never hated you. And if you genuinely believed even for a second that I didn’t care about you, then I’m sorry, because that was never the case and I never meant to make you feel that way.”
Her nostrils flared with a heavy breath, her jaw tight in that way when trying to hold back tears.
“I can’t”—she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut—“I can’t do this anymore, Emmett.” My name fractured in two, like it hurt her to say.
She pulled her hand out of mine, flexing it as if my touch burned.
“This is just too messy. And it’s not right to keep going behind your sisters’ backs.
I feel so guilty all the time. I can barely spend any time with them because of it.
If I had known this would drag on, I never would’ve offered.
This was supposed to be a one-time thing; it was never supposed to turn into… into this.”
She might as well have ripped my heart straight out of my chest. “Delilah, don’t do this,” I begged.
I knew when this started there would be an expiration date, but I didn’t expect it to hurt so bad.
Or for it to end like this—because I was too scared to let her down, to drag her into my fucked up mess.
She looked down at her lap, her chin quivering. “I think you need to leave,” she whispered.
“Don’t make me. Please, sugar, don’t end this.”
“Just go.” She sniffled, looking anywhere but at me. “Please, Emmett. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”
I was the one turning away now, her words cutting like a knife, and all but confirming that she wasn’t in this as deep as I was.
And if that were the case, then there was no use in begging.
A car passed outside. A dog barked. Reminders that the world didn’t end, even though it felt like it had here in this apartment.
I cleared my throat, but it did nothing to get rid of the boulder lodged in it. My voice came out hoarse. “Okay.”
I forced myself to get up, but stopped when I reached the threshold of her bedroom. When I turned to face her, she wiped her eyes quickly. “What?”
She looked so small in the bed. My larger-than-life girl whittled down to nothing, and it was all my fault.
All the confirmation I needed that this was the right decision, no matter how painful it was.
If I’d already hurt her now, how badly would I have hurt her another month from now?
Six months? A year? “You’re wearing my shirt. ”
With jerky movements, she ripped it off, holding her hand out for me to take it. I looked anywhere but her as I grabbed it. She wasn’t mine anymore; it didn’t feel right to look at her body as if she were. Not that she ever had been.
Leaving her apartment felt like fighting against gravity—a level of wrongness I’d never experienced before.
Each step drained every ounce of strength I had.
Once I was in my truck, I slumped over the steering wheel, struggling to breathe.
All I could smell was Delilah’s body wash lingering on my shirt.
It only made everything feel worse. A sharp reminder that I was still the failure I had been at the start of this.
A coward, too scared to face my demons—my feelings.
I felt stupid—weak, even—for letting this happen. For not keeping my word and making this a one-time thing. But worse, I felt like a fool for thinking I deserved more than once with her. For believing there was any chance we could actually be together. That I could ever be good enough for her.
Delilah was right, there were my sisters to think about. They had stopped being a consideration for me weeks ago. But I knew how important they and their friendship were to Delilah, so I completely understood her guilt and reasoning.
Didn’t mean I liked it. Not one fucking bit.
I squeezed my eyes shut so hard I saw stars, my hands wringing on the wheel. I needed to leave before I went back in there and really fucked everything up by telling her I’d gone and fallen in love with her.
I was halfway to my house when Jack called me. I didn’t want to talk, but knew I couldn’t ignore him. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong?”
My chest clenched. “Nothing. What’s up?”
“Always were a shitty liar, Hayes. But maybe this’ll cheer you up. Those guys you had me look into? Yeah, they’re fuckin’ white collar criminals.”
“What?” I pulled over quickly, my truck skidding to a stop. I was breathing hard, my gaze darting all over the cab of my truck. “You can’t be serious.” I’d honestly expected him to find nothing, but this…this was huge.
“As a heart attack,” Jack said. “That’s why it took me so long to get this info back to you. Had to chase the trail and confirm it.”
I propped my elbow on the door, running a palm over my forehead. “The land developer, Preston,” Jack continued, “has been embezzling money through his client’s deposits and project funds. Rounding up prices, quoting incorrect number of units, that kinda shit.”
“Jesus. What about Sterling?”
“Surprisingly, his shit is all by the books—except the tax fraud he’s been committing since 1982.”
I scoffed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“He’s been doing this longer than I’ve been alive.
” The thought of the millions of dollars Sterling had been hoarding out of pure greed was nauseating.
Or maybe that sinking feeling in my stomach was because of Delilah.
It was hard to separate the different feelings in my body and their causes when it was just overall terrible.
“Pretty much.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Now,” he sighed, “is the annoying part. Since I didn’t really do any of this legally, you have to find a reason to investigate them this closely.
Pretty sure it could be something as simple as you calling the IRS up with an anonymous tip, but it needs to be something worthwhile, not just, ‘Oh, I heard these guys are pieces of shit,’ ya know? ”