Page 12 of Redemption's Inferno

“If you two need a place for the night, I have a guest room. Just one bed, but I’m sure you can manage.”

Chains arched a brow. “Nice try, old man—I’m fine on the sofa.”

Warren laughed. “That massive body on my tiny sofa? You’ll be on the floor in minutes! Don’t be stubborn—I’m sure Em doesn’t mind sharing. You’re both adults.”

Emilie shrugged. “It’s okay, Chains. You can have the bed—I fit on the sofa just fine.”

“I’m a lot of ugly things, but my mum raised me to be a gentleman,” he said. “So not a chance I’m taking the bed from you.”

“Then we can both sleep on it,” she said, yawning. “I’m too tired to care. I’m going to lie down, if it’s all right with you, Warren.”

“Of course, darling.” He nodded. “Go rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” Chains called after her.

Once she was gone, Chains got up and poured himself two fingers of scotch, downing it abruptly. He poured two more fingers and then took a seat across from Warren, eying him.

“Give it up, old man,” he said after a moment, staring moodily into space. “Trying to push Em and me together isn’t going to work. I’m not interested.”

“Total rubbish.” Warren smiled. “Who could resist her? And the way you barged in here tonight—you were madder than a wet hen! Don’t deny there’s an attraction.”

“Same as any beautiful woman,” he muttered. “Still not interested in anything more than a good screw.”

“Really.” Warren shook his head. “Stubborn, the both of you.”

Chains rolled his eyes. “Any luck finding anything about what she might have done?”

“No.” He frowned, his face growing serious. “Everything else aside, you need to sort this out, mate. I haven’t the energy right now and if we don’t figure it out, she’ll be back to her humiliation antics the moment you’ve gone.”

Chains sighed. “I’ll make some calls, see if anyone knows anything.”

“I’ve done that. You need to dig deeper. You’re friends, the two of you, yeah?”

“We work together, spend a bit of time together, so yeah.”

“Talk to her. You don’t have to marry the girl, just bloody talk to her. You were a top interrogator! Interrogate!”

Chains rose to his feet slowly. “I don’t think those types of interrogation techniques work on a woman like Emilie.”

“Then come up with new ones.” Warren leaned back and closed his eyes. “Now let an old man get some rest, you wanker.”

Chains chuckled as he left the room.

* * *

Emilie woke up early the next morning, exhausted but unable to sleep any longer. She’d been restless all night, reliving the evening at Cuddy’s, missing her daughter and worrying about whether or not she would go to prison. She rolled over, reaching for her phone, and knocked against the hard body lying beside her.

“Bloody hell,” Chains muttered. “That’s twice you’ve smacked me about the head since I came to bed two hours ago.”

“Sorry! Go back to sleep.” She slid away from him, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and hurrying out of the room. She slipped into the bathroom down the hall and quickly freshened up, surprised she hadn’t woken when he got into bed with her.

She was a light sleeper in general, especially after Simone was born, and she’d always woken up on the nights Viggo got home late from a trip. Chains hadn’t alerted her to his presence at all, and she paused in the hall, staring down at the room where he still slept. Why had he come after her? If Viggo had sent him, he was wasting his time because she wasn’t going home until she’d faced the music. He could force her to go home this time, but she would only leave again, and they were all smart enough to know that.

She made her way downstairs to the sunroom, knowing Warren always broke the fast in his favorite room with multiple newspapers and unlimited cups of tea. Sure enough, she found him there, his glasses perched on his nose as he combed the pages of the previous day’s New York Times. She watched him for a moment, a smile playing on her lips, and then bent to kiss his cheek.

“Good morning,” she said, taking the seat across from him.

“Good morning.” He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if checking her over thoroughly. “How are you feeling, love?”

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