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My eyes cut over to him. “And you know for certain she wouldn’t have talked to my dad?”
He looks to me with fading concern. “Anything’s possible.” He nods. “But why would he tell her something like that? She could turn him in.”
“She is a Jameson,” I remind him. “I’m sure she doesn’t trust the cops any more than you do. Do you think he would have tried to use her to come after what’s left? To come after Jameson Automobiles? They could be allies.”
“All the more reason for us to talk to your dad,” he insists.
We finally manage to get our clothes back on, but only after stopping too many times to lose ourselves in each other’s mouths. I am alarmed by my never-ending desire for him. No matter how much of him I get, I just keep wanting more and more.
“What should I tell my mom?” I ask him as we begin the long drive back to my house.
“That you fell asleep on my couch,” he suggests.
“Good enough, I guess.” I huff. “She’s going to be pissed no matter what I say. That excuse is better than telling her anything that really happened today.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing across my arms.
“I guess like someone who just did heroin for the first time,” I grumble, realizing the effects of it faded long ago.
I still can’t believe what Lily and Vivian did to me, or that Emmett managed to fix it so fast. Everything that came after that is far from my mind. It vanished between our bodies at some point in the motel r
oom, and I am in no hurry to revive any of it.
“Maybe we should skip school tomorrow,” Emmett suggests. “I can convince Principal Brown that you’re still not feeling well after what Vivian and Lily did to you, and that I’m taking care of you.”
“So, we can go back to your motel?” I ask longingly, with a dreamy tone of voice.
“Actually, so we can go see your dad.” He sighs. “I’m worried if we go to school, something else crazy will happen and set us back again. We need to get this out of the way. If your dad doesn’t have anything to do with Bernadette’s disappearance, we need to start planning what to do next.”
“Yeah…I guess you never know what’s going to happen whenever you step into WJ Prep,” I lament, feeling a dull ache of exhaustion growing between my eyes. “I’m not in any hurry to go see my dad, but whatever you think is best. I told you I’d help in any way I could.”
He takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips. “Thank you,” he says tenderly.
It’s hard to reconcile the different faces of Emmett at times. A few hours ago, he was triggering some of my worst memories and asking me to slap him in the face. Now, he is sweet and tender and driving me home like any other boyfriend would. I want to think his dark side if just a symptom of his upbringing, and now that his dad is gone, he will eventually heal and those things will fade. But I also want to accept the very real possibility that all of it is the real Emmett, and that I may not be able to get one without the other.
I told him I didn’t want easy, that I only wanted him. And today has put the truth of that to the test. But as he kisses me goodnight and tells me he will be back to pick me up in the morning, I know I’d make the same promise all over again.
11
Chapter Eleven
The time has finally come, and I can’t put it off any longer. With my suspension from school lifted and Vivian and Lily seemingly scared into submission for the time being, we have to start getting some answers about Bernadette. Which means we have no choice but to go see my dad.
We drive to a small town outside of Jameson called Portville Bay. It’s a coastal fishery area with lots of white-haired men who look like they’re retired walking around. I hate how close it is to Jameson and wonder how long my father has been lingering so close by.
Theo is living in a modest house on the shore with a line of expensive boats tied out back. It’s not the sprawling mansion I expected, considering the fortune he has supposedly built back up, but I get the feeling he stays on the move a lot if the FBI really is after him like the police warned me.
But within those small walls, it doesn’t look like any expense was spared. We are greeted at the gate by one of the people working at the house and immediately taken around back to a lavish patio area you would never expect to see tucked behind this kind of house. Even with the fall chill and the even colder breeze blowing in off the water, we nestle into warm seats by an outdoor heater.
“Mr. Nickelson will join you in just a moment,” the man cordially informs us. “Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”
“What more could we need?” I joke as I look at the arrangement of snacks and drinks on the table, including an assortment of strange-looking milkshake drinks. “What are those?”
“They’re one of Mr. Nickelson’s favorites!” he beams in reply, looking way too happy about his job. “They’re a sort of spicy hot chocolate with alcohol.”
The man walks away as we take our seats at the table. I note the three alcoholic beverages and turn to Emmett. “He does know we’re teenagers, right?”
“You complaining?” he smirks as he takes one of the drinks into his hands. The liquid steams against the cold air as he puts it to his lips for a sip.
