“Emery.”
She hesitated for a second, looking at him over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to sleep with the child of a killer. Of course, I guess you do that all the time.”
The green light of the alarm clock beamed through the dark room. Wren knew the minute she left the house. There was no way to get out without tripping at least two alarms. Neither of them screeched through the quiet night. His watch buzzed and his cell rang. That was it.
He’d checked on her twice over the last two hours. Knocked on the door, but she wouldn’t let him in. He couldn’t sleep. Hell, he might never sleep again after that explosive fight. But he’d hoped she’d be there to talk with him in the morning. Maybe they could find some common ground. But no.
A little before four in the morning. That’s when she gave up and walked out. Wren didn’t even have to sit up in bed to know she’d left only with what she was wearing. The rest of her things were strewn around his room.
He picked up the phone to call Keith, but he’d already texted. The alarm tipped him off and he and Stan were following her. They would check in with her location and status. Wren just had to hope she wouldn’t try to lose them.
The phone was right there, so he started to call her then disconnected. She didn’t want him. She’d made that pretty clear. Lashing out wasn’t a surprise, though the subjects she picked to throw at him weren’t ones he’d soon forget. She used every secret he ever told her against him.
He got the anger, but the show of hate was unexpected. It boiled inside of him, too. He could feel the frustration and disappointment rise and churn.
He whipped the phone against the wall. Heard a sharp crack then a thump as it fell against the hardwood floor.
He’d fucking blown it.
CHAPTER 29
Every muscle in Emery’s body ached. It hurt to walk. To breathe. She’d been ripped apart and glued back together again, but nothing fit anymore. It was all off. She wondered if she would ever feel whole and human again.
Another day, another shock. She left a message at the office saying she had a family emergency. That didn’t even come close to the implosion Wren had set off. Even if her father explained, doubts would always linger. She’d analyze every word now.
Levi. Just thinking his name made her heart ache.
She’d said awful things to him. Unforgivable things. He’d delivered the message and she burned him and it to the ground. Guilt wrapped around her, weighing her down. She shook with the need to apologize. The memory of his face as she yelled at him, as the slicing words popped out and she couldn’t grab them back, nearly knocked her over. She’d seen the very moment the pain shot through him. When the betrayal hit.
She deserved to lose him, and she would. She’d turned every moment of trust he shared with her back on him. Whipped him with his own words.
Bile rushed up her throat. She started to heave. Actually turned to the bushes and thought she might topple over. Somehow she bit it back. Got her body back under control, at least for now.
She looked again at the steps to her father’s front porch. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there or how many people had walked by. She buried her head in her hands and tried to find the strength to get through the next few minutes. She didn’t believe her father was capable of such horror, but she had to know.
“Emery?”
She hadn’t heard the door open, but when she looked up her father stood there. He wore his usual dress pants and plain shirt. He had his bag in his hand, which meant she likely caught him on the way to class or office hours. No doubt he’d use that as an excuse to put her off.
“I need to talk to you.”
He didn’t move. “Now?”
“It has to be now.” She might not have the nerve later.
This was the kind of news you buried. Planted it deep and never looked at it. She didn’t believe it, couldn’t even wrap her mind around it, but she needed him to explain the inconsistencies. Put her mind at ease. Give her something to go back to Wren with right before she begged him to forgive her.
“Come inside.” Her father opened the door and gestured for her to go first. “I only have a few minutes.”
Her brain messaged her legs to move. Somehow she got up the steps and through the entry. She didn’t stop until she stood in the middle of the family room. She’d spent very little time in the space growing up because it was her father’s domain. Where he entertained guests. Where he and his wives and girlfriends watched what little television he would allow.
She preferred the quiet of her room. There she could read and dream. Out here she had to deal with him, just like now.
“I’m going to ask you some questions and you need to tell me the truth.” When she realized she was shifting her weight from foot to foot, she stopped.