Page 50 of Killing Emma

Gritting my teeth, I nod. “I saw.”

“He called me Little Red,” she whispers.

I close my eyes. Deep fucking breath. Lock it away. “I heard.”

“He ruined me,” she says, this time her voice hardly audible at all. “He ruined me for you.”

It hits me then, and guilt extinguishes any flame of anger, like a bucket of water on a candle. I hold her gaze, feeling a new fucking ache as a tear slips from her eye, rolling down her cheek.

“He didn’t ruin you,” I force the words out. “Nothing can ruin you. So, get up, give me your bloody clothes, and wash yourself. I’m going to need your help. We’re in this together now.”

She peers up at me like a child. “W-we are?”

“Yeah,” I grab her hand, squeezing it. “Remember when you ran through the woods with bloody feet?”

She doesn’t pull away, nodding. “Yeah.”

“He might have torn up a part of you that neither of us can see,” I say the words with a feeling I’ve never felt before. “But it’ll heal. No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want them to. I can teach you.” I don’t know why I put the offer on the table, but her eyes flicker with hope that brings me relief.

“You will teach me?”

“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Shit happens like this, but he didn’t win, did he? Because he was coming down here to kill you, Emma. He didn’t get to. He loses. He’s the one who’s dead now. I murdered my partner, and now it’s just us against what’s to come.”

“What do you think is coming?” Her voice gains strength as she lets me help her to her feet.

“Hell,” I answer her. “Hell is coming for us.”

Emma takes a breath and drops my hand. At first, I think she might fall to the floor again, but instead, she reaches down and grabs the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

“I never liked this shirt anyway,” she says, tossing it to the floor.

A smile pulls at my lips as she sheds the rest of her clothes. My eyes rake over her naked body, drinking in the sight. Her nipples stand erect from the cool, damp breeze, and even though my cock throbs for her, we don’t have that kind of time. I’ll burn away every trace of Manny from her, but he didn’t touch what’s on the line here in my mind. He could’ve raped her until her body gave out, and he’d never touch what I want the most.

I’m finally seeing the whole picture clearly.

The threat never applied to Manny. He was dead the moment he lusted after her, and I’d never blame Emma for what he brought on her. She doesn’t understand the difference between Jared and Manny touching her.

But it’s a striking difference. Jared has aim to catch what I finally realize I want more than anything. Her fucking heart. And if the moment comes that she chooses him—or anyone, for that matter—over me, she’s dead.

I’ll make fucking sure of it.

***

“Holy…” Jude steps into the basement, and the color drains from his face. “You could’ve mentioned… What the hell did you do this for?” He turns to me as I head for the bathroom door. I hold the stack of clothes for Emma in my hand, having heard the water shut off.

“Long story,” I say, opening the door just enough to set the clothes on the counter. I flipped the breaker back on for the basement on my way to greet Jude, and now, the lights make the whole mess look even worse. “Put these on,” I tell Emma as she wraps up in a towel. “Then come out here.” She nods, and I shut the door, turning around to Jude staring at me.

“Who’s in your bathroom?” he deadpans, his eyes jumping to the pile of bloody women’s clothing in a pile.

I shift to my heels. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. Answer the question.”

“Whatever happens here, you cannot tell anyone,” I tell him. “Not even Henry. I still have a lot to figure out, and this…” I glance down at Manny. “This is going to have big ramifications.” Ivan.

“Right,” Jude mutters, running his fingers through his hair. “Let me guess, you’re going to want me to cover this so Ivan doesn’t track you down.”

“If possible, but you and I both know it won’t keep him away.”

---