Page 107 of We Are All Guilty Here

That it had happened at all was still a mystery. She’d run into him at the grocery store, the movie theater, the park. He’d bought her a drink. Then it was a meal. Then it was a nightcap. Then he was cooking her breakfast. Then he was introducing her to his daughter Jenna and she was introducing him to Cole. Two years had rocked on before Emmy had worked up the nerve to tell him that she loved him. And still, Emmy hadn’t moved in with Dylan so much as started staying over. First on the weekends, then for a few more days, then for a total of four years.

Then Myrna had taken a turn.

The day Emmy had left Dylan, she had told him she would still see him, but she didn’t. She had told him she would call, but she hadn’t. By all rights, he should never speak to her again. But a few hours ago, outside the jail complex, Dylan had asked her to let him be there for her. She wasn’t sure if the offer was still good, but right now she was desperate, and he was standing inside the house that part of Emmy still thought of as home.

And he still hadn’t looked up from his iPad.

She felt her nerve start to break. She took out her phone to text him. A sharp pain shot through her chest. Emmy couldn’t stop herself from crying out. Her body had processed the information on the screen before her brain had. It wasn’t anything about Paisley. There weren’t any updates. The time is what caught her. Six twenty-four in the morning. At this same time yesterday, Emmy had been sitting at the kitchen table with her mother. They were going through the routine they’d gone throughover the last six months. Then Cole had come downstairs. Then they had gone to Gerald’s office to run down Adam’s case.

All of that, every single second of that morning, would never happen ever again.

“Emmy?” Dylan had opened the back door. He came out onto the deck. “You okay?”

She could feel tears rolling down her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. “I’m really great.”

“Looks like it.” He was smiling, but he was clearly worried. “What do you need, Em?”

She knew exactly what she needed. The same as before. To curl into him. To disappear. To feel his arms protecting her. To let out the breath that she had been holding since her father had fallen to the ground. She would do anything to get to that moment of exhale. Anything except tell him the truth.

She asked, “Do you want to have sex?”

“Sure.” Dylan knew that’s not what she really wanted, just like he knew the part he was supposed to play. “Why don’t you take a bath first?”

“Okay.”

He held open the door so she could go inside. Emmy started taking off her things as she walked to the bathroom. Her duty vest. Her belt. Shirt. Her fingers felt numb as she unbuttoned her pants. Her head was swimming. She nearly toppled over when she bent down to untie her boots.

“I’ve got it.” Dylan took off his suit jacket. He closed the toilet lid so she could sit down. He started to work on the laces. His head was shaking. He was clearly annoyed. “If I’d pulled you over for distracted driving, you’d be arrested by now. You can barely stand.”

“You can handcuff me if you want.”

He laughed, but not like it was funny.

She said, “I’ve got to be back at work in three and a half hours.”

“That’s a lot of sex.”

“We’ve done it before.” She leaned over and turned on the taps in the bathtub. “My sister rose from the dead.”

“I know.” He pulled off her boots. Then her socks. Then everything else.

“She calls herself Jude.” Emmy watched Bap-Bap saunter into the bathroom to see what was up. “She told me to get some rest.”

“That’s crazy.” He helped her climb into the tub. “Who does she think she is?”

“My sister, apparently.”

“What an asshole.” Dylan turned her wrist so he could unbuckle her watch.

Emmy touched her fingers to the back of his hand. Waited for him to look at her. “Dad’s blood is in the crown.”

Dylan’s face changed. He stared at the watch for a moment. Angled it to the light to see the blood. His chest rose and fell. He had loved Gerald, too.

She watched him stand up and carefully place the watch on the shelf above the sink. Then he got a towel and washcloth from the cupboard. He scratched Bap-Bap behind the ears. Knelt beside the tub. Rolled up his sleeves. Tossed his tie over his shoulder. Wet the washcloth under the faucet. Worked the soap into a lather. Started to wash Emmy’s back.

She let her eyes close. The tremble in her bones dissipated. Her heartbeat started to slow. The soothing feel of his touch. The warmth of the water enveloping her body. Her muscles relaxed. She’d felt like she’d been holding the world together all night, but only now could she feel herself start to release her grip.

“Dylan?”

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