Page 201 of Deceit

“How?” My body presses firmer into hers, needing to know every response because I have to have all this make sense. “How did you know, Emmy?”

“I was there, at Alexander’s penthouse when you were. I hid in the closet. I bugged his place after I…” She takes a breath before saying, “Before I nailed you all with a tranquilizer gun. I called Mills, we carried you out and into his car. I covered my tracks and hooked his cell and house up to my laptop. I got home and he had already begun planning how he wanted you out. So, Blue and I took care of it.”

“You didn’t park far enough down the road.”

She nods, clearly understanding how I got us to where we are. “Figures.”

I allow my gun to skate up her cheek and stop at her temple. “Why did you start this?”

“You have to promise—“

“I don’t have to promise youshit,” I storm out, spit hitting her face and her features blurring in my vision. “I don’t have to do anything you ask of me. I don’twantto do anything for you anymore. Do you fucking hear me? We’re done. I can’ttrustyou anymore.”

The soft sweep of Emmy’s exhales touches my lips and my body settles. It thaws and strides to hold still to the raging emotions that course through my veins.

We’ll never be the same after this.

I can’t depend or even look at her anymore without remembering this.

What she did and how I felt afterward.

How I just wanted to die all the time.

When I couldn’t sleep because she was in my nightmares and dreams with my being the one who didn’t save her.

She was supposed to save me.

I put her on a pedestal—right or wrong, I did—and she failed me. I won’t let her in again, and I sure as hell won’t be open to her. Obviously I did the right thing by keeping my feelings to my fucking self.

“I know you hate me,” she mutters calmly. “That I put you through hell.”

“I more than hate you.” The metal between us digs deeper into her head. “ I honestly despise the very sight of you.” Emmy averts his gaze, turning her head to look at something else in the room. My gun lands on the back of her head and I can’t stand seeing it there as if I’m going to execute her from behind. “Look at me.”

She does, tears glistening in her eyes, but they don’t land in a spot where I’d feel sorry. They just look guilty to me.

“Why?” It’s a simple question, and I know it’s not a straightforward answer, but I want it anyway.

“Kill him,” she grumbles out, her eyes narrow in on me. “And I kill you.”

My lips curl into a menacing smile. “Not if I don’t kill you right here and now, baby. If I like your answer…we’ll talk.”

“You won’t.”

“Try me.” Emmy leans up off the wall, getting into my face to make it seem like she has some sort of control of this conversation.

She does because she has justifications of things I need to know to move on with my life.

“I faked my death because Alexander stabbed me over six times in the stomach when he realized he spoke too much about his shady dealings with his brother. He left me to die in my condo. So I called Mills to get me. I made Lucien and Mills agree to my plan. I threatened to do it another way if they didn’t help me. I forced my best friend to be a father to my kids so that Alexander couldn’t walk out of the hospital with them. I forged DNA tests. I purposely had a closed casket for obvious reasons. I couldn’t let him take Atlas and Alaric when they were out of the NICU or make any important decisions for their well-being because I don’ttrusthim. End of story.”

I stare at her, allowing the words to sink into my brain.

They don’t, not really.

I’m shocked and upset and worried and full of everything all mixed into a black blur of nothing.

Alexander stabbed me over six times in the stomach.

Where was I? Why didn’t she call me?

---