Page 31 of Clubs

“I don’t give a shit about the money.” Emory grabbed her cheek and thumbed a tear away. That sounded like a sweet sentence, perhaps even romantic, but his touch was as brash as his voice. Maybe his intention had been to hold Ria’s cheek gingerly, to comfort her, but Ria suspected she’d have a bruise where his thumb was by the day’s end. “I give a shit about you. The fact that your friend—a girl you work with in a dangerous fucking job—was beaten to death and dumped here. Did you witness it? If you didn’t do it, you must’ve seen it happen, or you wouldn’t be the mess that you are right now. Was it a john?”

Yes. Ria had witnessed it. She’d tried to stop him, and that was why she was in one of Brooke’s sweaters now. One that’d cover all the evidence of her struggle. “No. It wasn’t a john. But I’ve got it under control. Don’t worry about—”

“I’m gonna worry about you whether you like it or not. And you didn’t answer my first qu—”

“Because it doesn’t matter!” Ria shoved Emory’s hand from her face. She wasn’t strong enough to do so purely with her hand, so a bit of telekinesis helped.

It helped push his hand away, at least. It made this worse. Because Emory wasn’t giving her that freaked out, overprotective, angry face anymore. His forehead creased, mouth opening ever so slightly.

Hurt. He was hurt that she had pushed him away. Hurt that he had covered her ass, and surely expected him to continue doing so, only to push him away. Emory risked everything to protect Ria. His job. His best friend, practically his brother. And Ria all but spit in his face.

That wasn’t fair. She hated herself for it. Hated the damage she was doing to the relationship with her best friend, her sister, and even her sister’s relationship.

But what other choice did she have?

She didn’t. Put plainly, Ria had no other choice. Lying, pushing everyone she cared for away, was how it had to be this time. Not for her sake, but for theirs.

Ria would fix this. But she couldn’t if they were all watching her. If they knew what was happening, it’d only get worse. So much worse.

She couldn’t let them wind up like Alicia. She couldn’t.

“I’ll replace the money,” Ria said after a quiet moment. “I promise I will. You know I pay my debts.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, how many times do I have to tell you this? I don’t care about the money. I care about you. I care that you’re fucking terrified.”

“I’m fine. So stop. Just stop, alright?” Grabbing her purse off the end table, she started toward the door. “Everything’s fine—”

Again, Emory wrapped a hand around her bicep. This time, he did what Ria had expected him to do since this conversation had started. “Tell me the truth, Ari.”

His Angel powers took hold. Involuntarily, Ria’s mouth dropped open. The story, the background, the memories from last night, from a few months prior when it all began, was like vomit in her throat. Emory’s touch urged it to fall from her lips, but the spell she had cast on herself this morning did its job.

The words were there. Right there in her throat. But she managed to swallow them down.

She teleported out of his grasp.

Landing in her van parked outside Spades, those words dropped from her lips in a sob. It rippled out of her so quickly, Emory wouldn’t have been able to understand it all anyway.

But the spell did its job. It gave her enough time to get away.

Now, the worst part was, until this was over, until she cleaned up her mess, she couldn’t see Emory again. Because next time, he’d have some morion on hand. The gem would keep her from teleporting, Emory wouldn’t give her the chance to run, and she’d tell him everything.

But until it was over, she couldn’t tell him a damn word.

CHAPTER TEN

EMORY

Dropping his head to his hands, rubbing his eyes, Emory released a slow, calming breath.

This was bad. Whatever it was, it was fucking bad. He didn’t know what to do. Which friend should he hold allegiance for? Ria? Declan? Brooke?

They were all on the same team. They had to be. Even when they bickered and fought, they were always on the same team. Was that still true?

Surely Ria hadn’t dumped the body here. What purpose would that serve? She loved Brooke more than anything, cared for Declan just as much, and certainly didn’t want Emory penalized for the missing cash.

No, someone had a gun to her head. She didn’t dump that body behind the bar. She didn’t cause this, but she knew who did. Emory would get it out of her. Then he’d make the bastard who put Ria in this position wish he’d never fucking met her.

A knock rapped on the door. Emory’s heart skipped. A silly fantasy, but maybe it was her. Maybe she’d come back.

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