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“Bernadette hasn’t been home in days,” he says through a long exhale, running his hands through his hair. “Mom won’t let us call the police. She says she doesn’t trust them with the investigation going on right now.”
“Oh, so you mean the cops aren’t in your pocket anymore now that your father’s dirty dealings have come to light?” I snap, unable to hold back a grin of satisfaction. “It must be really hard on you, not having anyone to turn to,” I mock him sarcastically.
“I know, Ophelia. You have every right to be angry with me,” he murmurs as he breaks down into tears.
I have seen a lot of different faces on Emmett Jameson, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him cry. I hate the way it weakens me. Every muscle in my body screams to stand still and hold my ground, but instead I find myself racing to his side, collapsing beside him as I pull his sobbing face against my shoulder.
“Calm down,” I tell him gently, with a tinge of resentment, but my body betrays me, stroking his hair. I hate how quickly he can quash my anger. The hold he has on me is maddening. “We’ll figure this out. Are you sure she didn’t just run away?”
“She would’ve left a note,” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “She likes attention way too much to just slip away quietly. She would’ve written something dramatic and made sure we found it.”
The rumors from school circle in my brain, coupled with the image of Bernadette screaming over her father’s body. My biological father shot him right in the entryway of their manor, leaving him flat and limp across the marbled floor with blood rapidly pooling around him. She was distraught. None of the Elites, including Emmett, have returned to school since, but word is that Bernadette is completely despondent.
“You don’t think…” I start softly, immediately covering my mouth to try and stop myself from even saying it.
“What?” Emmett barks, desperate for a lead.
“Well…everyone’s been talking about how much seeing your father shot in front her fucked her up,” I continue, hoping he won’t make me say it. “She wouldn’t have…”
“Killed herself?” he interjects, too dryly.
“I hate to even say it…I’m sorry,” I stammer and recoil, rubbing my hand against his shoulder. “I’m just trying to cover every possibility. I shouldn’t…Shit, I’m sorry…”
“Same as running away. She would have left a note.” He stands and walks a few feet away, distancing himself from me and my suggestions.
“You’re right. I’m sure that’s not it,” I say too loudly with false confidence, but the possibility still hangs heavy in my mind. “You’re all too full of yourselves to do anything like that anyway,” I mutter under my breath.
“What?” He spins back around, too distracted with his own busy mind to have really heard me.
“So, you think someone took her?” I pick up the thread again, trying to placate him. He nods. “What about Trey and Vincent? The Whitworths?”
The Whitworths were key players in the Elite gang, along with Emmett, his family, Vivian Blackwater, and her family. All old money who’d founded the town, built the school, and controlled Jameson Automobile Corporation, a maker of fine, high-class automobiles that employs practically the whole city of Jameson. The Elite parents had dabbled in oil, stocks, and arms-dealing. All their kids had trust funds. But now that has ch
anged.
“Or Vivian and her family?” I continue, knowing that any one of the Elites could have it out for Emmett, his mom, and his sister. They are the only ones who made it out from my father’s vengeful wrath unscathed.
I hate even saying her name. While Emmett was making my life a living hell, despite our primal attraction to one another, Vivian stood by his side as his girlfriend. He doesn’t flinch at the mention of her, and I am unable to bite back my curiosity regarding their status, even with everything that has happened.
“Have you talked to her?” I ask gently.
“She called once the investigation began,” he explains, rubbing his jaw. His eyes dart around the room as he speaks evenly, without interest. “She thought I’d comfort her, but when I told her we weren’t together anymore, she turned on me. Screamed and cussed me out.”
“So, you helped land her parents in prison and then dumped her?” I quip, masking how happy I am that he didn’t cave into her plea for sympathy. “That’s cold.”
I want to hate Emmett, but whether I like it or not, my mind still isn’t made up about him. I’ve seen nothing but pure evil in Vivian and Bernadette since day one, though. I arrived in Jameson hopeful and excited about my track scholarship at WJ Prep, only to have them almost run me over and damn near break my wrist before I’d even had a chance to step foot on campus. And it only got worse from there.
“Would you have rather I stayed with her?” he asks coldly, his tone shooting straight to my core.
“I hate you,” I fume in response. He’s too cavalier, as if I was supposed to be left completely unphased after everything I saw happen between them.
“No, you don’t.” He flashes me an eerie, suggestive grin.
He’s right. I don’t. And that’s the problem. “Let’s focus, okay?” I fly to my feet and begin pacing the room. I can’t let this spiral into a talk about us.
“I don’t know.” He sighs. “Have you heard from your dad at all?”
I shake my head. Up until a couple of months ago, my biological father was completely irrelevant to my life. But shortly after realizing he and my mom met at WJ Prep and that he used to be an Elite, my whole life fell apart.
