AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Merry fucking Christmas, Dad.
I toasted the bottle, tilting my glass back and emptying it. The alcohol burned its way down my throat and up into my head, easing some of the pain. I poured another.
“It’s six a.m., Jack.”
Fuck.
Emma was standing right behind me. Her words carried no judgment, just concern. I thought I’d imagined her last night. The way she’d bent over me in the octagon, her chocolate eyes troubled. The lights on the ceiling had blurred, forming a halo around her head. My angel.
But if I hadn’t imagined her, then that meant she truly had been at MVR last night. She had been in the dungeon. She’d seen the fight. And every single person in that room had watched her enter the octagon. They’d seen her dote on me. The Russians would know we were together. It gave me more resolve to do what was necessary. For Emma.
“Shouldn’t you be studying your course catalog?” I asked, taking a sip. I refused to face her. I needed a few moments to gather my mask. If I met her gaze now, I would melt. There would be no doing what needed to be done. We would never make it out of the apartment.
Her warm breath glided over my neck. “I’m not going back to school.”
I circled the island, putting the counter between us. For once, I didn’t want Emma near me. I would shatter into a million pieces at her touch.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She wasn’t going back to Columbia? Emma was a scholar. She always had her head stuck between the pages of a book. It was one of the things I loved about her. Her beautiful brain whirred behind those wide eyes, soaking everything in. She was too smart for her own good.
“I mean I’m not going back,” she restated, setting her hands on the counter in resignation. She had on one of my white T-shirts and nothing else. The hem of it came to a stop mid-thigh. Her long hair hung down over her shoulders, a mess of dark curls. I fought the urge to lick my lips. I needed to stay focused.
I kept my gaze fixed on my drink. “It’s your last year.”
“It’ll be there when I’m ready to return.” Her voice was stiffening, but not with anger. She was frustrated that I wouldn’t look at her.
“What brought this on?”
The whole basis of my plan relied on Emma going home. Going back to the normal life of a college student. The life she had before she met me.
She shrugged, her delicate shoulders inching up. “It’s not who I am anymore. There are more important things.”
“Like what?” I retorted, losing my internal battle and looking her in the eye.
“Like you, Jack,” she argued, her voice thick with unshed tears.
Cursing under my breath, I drained my drink. Hell, I knew I would have to make her cry. I just didn’t think it would be this soon. She was ripping me apart and I hadn’t even broken us yet.
“I’m not important, dove,” I growled, slamming the glass tumbler down.
She rounded the counter, nearing me, but I held my hand up. She halted, the wounded expression on her face a punch to my already-bruised gut. If I didn’t do this now, I never would.
“I fucked someone in Ireland.”
My words hit her as if moving at a glacial speed. She cycled through a myriad of emotions. Shock, disbelief then—rather surprisingly—rage. Her face reddened, tears spilling over her lids. I felt each one like they were dripping onto my own heart, sizzling the organ there, burning me alive from the inside out.
I hadn’t fucked anyone else. I was positive I’d never get it up for a woman after Emma, but she didn’t know that. I could see doubt creeping in, niggling at the back of her brain. She’d been quick to jump to conclusions about Sofia, so I knew her insecurities well, although I’d tried to banish them. I felt horrible for using them against her now.
Hating me was the best way for her to move on. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what if. Emma was a proud person. Despite her confidence issues, she wouldn’t stand for being cheated on. It was the one thing that would make her leave. Hell, even knowing I had murdered someone hadn’t scared her off. Infidelity was her hard limit.
I’d been praying for months that Emma wouldn’t abandon this relationship. That she wouldn’t realize I was a terrible person. That I could hide part of myself from her. Now, I couldn’t wait for her to turn heel and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
“You’re lying,” Emma whispered, her voice cracking like a whip.
“I’m not. It was the day after I put Connor’s body in the ground. I was drunk and lonely. She was more than willing to solve one of my issues.”
God damn. It was like kicking a fucking puppy. A helpless, defenseless puppy. Her face crumpled, but she maintained composure. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, steadying her breath while I waited for her to respond. When she opened her eyes, I was in no way ready for the fury lying there.
