Page 56 of Killing Emma

Rugged hills overlay in the distance, giving the illusion of rolling waves of timber. I don’t know if it’s an uncommon view, or really anything to be drooling over, but it brings minor peace to the chaos of my mind. And probably the only reason I didn’t go off on a spree of public violence.

“What does this place mean to you?” Emma grabs my forearm, and I turn to meet her inquisitive gaze, the freckles splashed across her face in the prettiest way. She so fucking gorgeous she makes my chest ache.

And this place has nothing on her.

“This spot is just a refuge from the shitstorm life I live,” I finally tell her, once again being vulnerable—mostly. I don’t know if I like it, but when she looks at me the way she is, it doesn’t matter what I like. She’ll get what she wants from me. Everything that I think she can handle, anyway. There are some secrets I still have to keep.

Like where I go when I need to lose control.

“Maybe if I’d found a place like this, I’d have bounced back faster,” she says, ripping her eyes from mine and casting her gaze out across the trees. It draws me from my thoughts. “I just locked myself away in the darkness and grief, and never came out.”

“It’s easier to do that.” I wrap an arm around her waist, cradling her from behind. “It’s always easier to drown than tread water.”

“Yeah, but I think my mom would be pissed if she knew that I let myself drown for years. She never wanted that for me.”

I breathe in the scent of her hair as it tickles my chin. “Maybe, but what does Emma Nightingale actually want from life?”

She grows quiet, and I give her time to answer, though I feel as though I’m on the edge of my fucking seat. “I always wanted a life like the one I had growing up—but without notoriety and wealth. I hate the upper crust parties, comparison, and fake friends. I wanted to raise my future kids by the ocean, and in a world where they don’t have to wonder if last year’s dress will still suffice for this year’s party.”

I nod, but I’m hung on one thing that came out of her mouth.

Kids.

However, the buzzing in my pocket breaks my attention, and I pull out my phone, seeing a message from Jude.

He knows.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Emma

“Twenty days,” I say as I pull out a chair at the kitchen table. Major runs up to me, resting his head on my lap, while Luca finishes his breakfast from across the table. It’s been an uneventful nine days since the morning we went to the lookout, and now my days revolve around playing fetch with Major in the yard, occasional motorcycle rides, sex, and wondering what’s going to happen when the clock runs out. “Have you checked the news?”

“No,” Luca answers me, setting his spoon beside his oatmeal. “I know it’s died down some though. I try not to check it too much.”

I nod, drumming my fingers on the table. “Do you think… Do you think that they’ve been investigating Jared?” I try to avoid the topic of who wants me dead for my own mental health, but it’s still something that gives me nightmares…

And prevents me from letting myself fall for the man across the table.

He doesn’t know that though. Luca has no idea that I’m still hung up on my ex-husband in a way that I can’t move past. I don’t understand the man I married, and I have so many questions for him. So many.

“They’re investigating everyone more than likely,” Luca’s voice goes flat—just like it does every time my previous relationship is mentioned in any form whatsoever. It’s the wedge between us, stronger than even his attempts to murder me. “I don’t know where the investigation will go, but it’s less than a month until you show your face again.”

“I don’t know how I’ll return to the real world,” I laugh, opting for a change of subject. “Maybe I can tell them I was abducted by aliens.”

Luca shakes his head at me, and then hesitates, meeting my gaze. “I have a pretty good plan for the day this all comes to an end.”

“Oh?” I raise my brow. “And what’s that?”

“I’m taking you to meet my friends,” he says, his tone careful. “I know they’ll be really happy to, uh, meet you.”

I lean against my hand. “What’re they like?”

“Well, you’ve met Jude—and my other friend, he’s a little… Well, he’s a little different, but his wife is nice, I think. I know you’ll like her. She’s the kind of person who’d probably be good friends with you.”

“Such a strange assumption for someone you think is nice,” I giggle, unable to hide my smile. “But okay.” I glance down at my cup of coffee, my mind wandering to the other elephant in the room—the one that I think he’d talk about, but I’m reluctant to bring up. His partner has been dead for over a week now, and I hear Luca’s phone going off at odd hours in the night.

And speaking of, it begins to vibrate again, buzzing against the top of the table. He glances down at it, and I notice it’s another blocked number.

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