Page 13 of Redemption's Inferno

She smiled. “Refreshed.”

“Tea?” He met her eyes across the table.

“Thank you, yes.” She smiled again as he poured from the teapot into the cup he’d already set out for her. He was a kinky old man when it came to sex, but such a proper gentleman the rest of the time. It was part of what charmed her about him, and partly what had solidified their friendship. She took a croissant from the basket in the middle of the table and nibbled thoughtfully as she perused her phone.

“Has the time come for you to trust me?” he asked quietly.

Her head came up slowly. “It’s not about trust—it’s about doing the right thing.”

“Then let me help you!” he snapped in frustration. “Letting yourself be choked and humiliated by a group of arseholes isn’t going to fix whatever this is! Do you need a lawyer? A psychologist? A bloody séance?!”

She looked down again, fighting the emotion welling up inside of her. He was so kind, so generous, and the thought of disappointing him was almost more than she could bear. But admitting what she’d done—no, she couldn’t admit to anything until she had answers. If she went to prison, everyone would know and then, at least, they would find out all at once. In the meantime, she had to battle this alone.

“You’re going to shut me out, aren’t you?” Warren asked sadly.

“I have to do this my way,” she said slowly. “I know you don’t understand, and I love you even more for wanting to help, but this is the way it has to be.”

“You’re stubborn as hell!” he grunted, scowling at her before turning back to his newspaper.

Emilie sighed and took a long sip of tea. She’d put it off long enough. Today she was going to go to Scotland Yard and turn herself in. There had to be an unsolved case file somewhere and it was time to close it. She was going to go upstairs and do a video chat with Simone, get her finances in order and then head out. By the time anyone figured out what she had planned, it would be too late to stop her. The time for sexual punishment and humiliating scenarios was over; it was time to face the music. Maybe then she could look at herself in the mirror again.

Chapter 5

Emilie chatted with Simone for 15 minutes, made sure the few bills she had were paid, and wrote a letter to Viggo she would post on her way to Scotland Yard. It would take at least five or six days to arrive—most likely more—but by then she would know if she was going to be charged or not. She thought for a moment about Sebastian, knowing how angry he would be when he found out what was going on, but there was no help for that now. She had to do what was right, not what was easy, and she hoped he would someday understand. If there was a trial, he would come, so she knew she would see him one way or another.

The whole family would probably come, she mused as she showered, dried her hair and got dressed. Karl, her wonderfully protective older brother, would be even madder than her twin. Technically, Sebastian was older by six minutes but she didn’t think of him as older, only as her twin. They’d been close up until the last couple of years. He’d been furious she hadn’t told him she was pregnant, and then even more angry she’d married the bisexual father of her baby even though they’d all suspected the marriage wouldn’t last. Ironically, it was Emilie who’d ended things, not Viggo. He never would have pursued Jamie if she hadn’t given him both her blessing and a nudge. He’d taken their vows seriously and despite the threesome that had thrown him and Jamie together, he’d been willing to walk away from it for her. By then, just three months after getting married, she’d known it wasn’t going to work. She adored him, and had had a crush on him since she was 15, but theirs was not a match made in heaven. Hell, it wasn’t even made on earth. It was simply the right thing to do because of the broken condom that had led to a beautiful little girl they both loved.

The attraction between Viggo and Jamie after their threesome had been fortuitous. She’d already been struggling with the demons that had magically quieted during her pregnancy and the first weeks after Simone was born. They came back with a vengeance after she’d gotten married, however, keeping her up at night and pushing her to look for physical pain to assuage her guilt. She’d slowly pulled away from everyone, seeking peace in her own ways, keeping to herself and allowing Viggo and Jamie to fall in love. She’d never seen her big, burly husband so happy, and if she was honest with herself, it had been a relief to know she wouldn’t break his heart. Jamie was so much better for him than she was. Despite not being comfortable with his bisexuality, Jamie loved Viggo deeply and without question, something Emilie had never been able to do with anyone. Watching them together, the way they looked at each other, the intimacy of their touches when they thought they were alone—made her yearn for that too. Not with Viggo, though; there was no going back for them.

On the other hand, living together was nice. They’d bought a big, beautiful house and all moved in together. Simone had her parents, a fantastic stepfather and a lovely nanny—Jamie’s friend Misty, who lived with them as well—at her beck and call and it had worked out wonderfully. Each of them was able to have time to work, play and take care of themselves without worrying about Simone. Of course, Jamie had spent most of their first few months together struggling to recover from the brutal attack he’d suffered back in January. He was on the mend now, and they were anxious for the trial to be over so they could officially close that chapter of their lives. Emilie knew Viggo was planning to ask Jamie to marry him when the trial was over because he didn’t want to do it while the outcome hung over their heads. Jamie still didn’t know if he would be able to play hockey at the same level again, and Viggo was afraid of what it would do to him emotionally if he couldn’t.

She felt a twinge of guilt she’d abandoned them during such a tumultuous time, but she and Viggo had gotten legally divorced just a few weeks ago, and he’d insisted she start thinking about her future. Her mission here in London was to do exactly that; once she turned herself in, she would be able to move forward. Now that she’d officially decided to go to the authorities, she already felt lighter, the tightness in her chest dissipating as the taxi wound through the busy streets. There were so many things she wanted to do with her life, but she couldn’t do any of them until this was over.

Her biggest regret was her marriage. Though she and Viggo had realized almost immediately theirs wasn’t the kind of love that would endure over a lifetime, they shared friendship, a healthy sex life and a beautiful child. If she hadn’t been in such a dark place emotionally, things could have been different. She would have worked harder to get to know her handsome, red-haired husband, and the threesome with Jamie never would have happened. Once upon a time she’d believed in love and soul mates and happily ever after—she would never have allowed someone else to join them in their marital bed. Doing it at a club with a stranger would have been different; Viggo had always been open about his bisexuality and she’d worried he would miss having sex with men. At some point she might have let him indulge in those fantasies, but knowing she would never love him completely, she’d been willing to let Jamie join them. Instead of merely experiencing gratifying sex, he’d found the soul mate his wife hadn’t had any desire to be. Viggo would never have left her; she knew that, and loved him deeply for how committed he’d been to the marriage. It had been a short one, but she had no complaints. Everything that had gone wrong was her fault, and when she’d realized just how emotionally barren she was, she’d wasted no time in letting him know she wouldn’t keep him from Jamie.

She’d focused on her fabulous job running Club Inferno, her sweet baby girl and the new life she’d been building in Las Vegas. If only the dreams hadn’t intensified until she was afraid to close her eyes. If only her soul hadn’t turned black from guilt and confusion and regret; she’d done so many bad things, though one was especially heinous. She would give anything to get a do-over for that night, but that wasn’t the real world and there would be no knight in shining armor for her. Well, except for last night. Though she’d never pictured a knight with spellbinding gray eyes and dark blond dreadlocks, he’d come to her rescue and left her a little breathless when he’d done it.

She smiled when she thought of Chains. She hadn’t noticed him at first, but when his deep voice startled her into awareness, she’d been grateful he was there. She hadn’t been afraid Cuddy could truly humiliate or embarrass her—she actually found it laughable he thought writing crude names on her body would somehow affect her—but there had been a part of her that had instantly gotten a bad feeling about him. More than anything, she’d worried he wouldn’t release her. Just as she’d always relished in the pain she got from a good spanking or whipping with a belt or paddle, she could lose herself in what many would consider humiliation. She had what some might consider a safe place within her mind, a place she retreated to when the pain took over or the intensity of sex play allowed her to surrender. It was only then the black thoughts inside of her quieted, giving her the only true moments of peace she’d had in years. Yet she’d been unable to truly reach that place with Cuddy because she didn’t trust him. Even though Warren had vouched for him, Emilie trusted her gut, and her gut had told her to be careful.

Luckily, Chains had shown up when he did and had kept things from getting ugly. He was the last person she’d expected to see last night, but despite his scowl and snarky comments, she’d been happy he’d been there. He’d surprised her with the gentle way he’d carried her to her room and put her in the shower. She’d never expected that from him, used to the tough guy persona he portrayed at the club. It never occurred to her he could be so tender and compassionate. She’d always noticed his good looks—you’d have to be dead not to—but she’d been married and was also his boss. She and Becca had giggled many a time about his steel-gray eyes and those ridiculously buff and tattooed biceps.

“My husband is the hottest man on the planet,” Becca had sighed dramatically. “But Chains is a close second.”

“Not Jamie?” Emilie had teased her, since Becca and her husband, Dante, had participated in a threesome with Jamie that everyone knew about.

“Jamie is sexy,” Becca had smiled. “But Chains is kind of godlike with those eyes of his…”

“I do like his eyes,” Emilie had agreed.

“And those tats,” Becca said dreamily. “I’d like to run my tongue along just one…”

Emilie snorted. “Dante would blow a gasket!”

“For sure!” Becca snickered. “I didn’t say I would do it—just that I’d like to.”

The memories made Emilie smile, but she had other things to do and think about, like mailing letters and presenting herself at Scotland Yard. Within the hour, she would have some answers and, whatever the punishment, she could finally start to heal. With that in mind, she leaned back and stared out at the pouring rain.

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