My voice breaks with emotion, which causes Theo to step outside and close the door behind himself. “Emmett, what did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” I hold my hands up. “Theo, I fucking promise you. I will shit-talk you to your face until the day I die, but I would lay down my life for your sister. I need to find her.”
Theo eyes me suspiciously, as though he’s not sure what to make of me. It’s the same look he was giving me during lunch yesterday.
“I’m sorry, Emmett,” he finally says. “I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her, but I can try to touch base. I’ll tell her to call you.”
“Okay,” I say, voice brimming with emotion as I glance around, searching for her, as though she might be hiding behind a tree or ready to pop out of a bush and shout, “Gotcha!”
But she doesn’t. And my panic swells.
I turn to walk away, but Theo brings me up short with some last words of warning.
“She’s too good for you,” he says simply, standing on the front step of the sprawling farmhouse.
My hands lift out wide and then drop as I scoff in defeat and meet his eyes. “Don’t you think I know that?”
CHAPTER 45
Emmett
Richard
You think you can just quit this show with one week to go? I’ve got news for you, asshole. I’ll ruin you.
Richard
Come back to set. Do your job. And maybe if you try hard enough, I’ll overlook your outburst. Otherwise? Kiss this farm goodbye. Your family. Your girlfriend. Poof. Gone.You’ll be a washed-up has-been like your daddy.
Richard
You don’t want to see what I’m capable of. I can promise you that.
The world is hazy and moving in slow motion around me. I see Richard’s texts, but I don’t respond. I quit and I meant it. I also told him to contact my lawyer so these messages just reek of desperation.
He knows he fucked up.
But so have I.
I waited too long to quit. And now Julia’s been caught in the cross fire.
I spend the drive back to Oma and Opa’s place berating myself for signing up for this show in the first place. Without it, I may not have met Julia again, but I also wouldn’t have ended up hurting her. And that might have been better. I’d prefer to live with that.
I tread through the front door defeated. I’m at a loss about what to do, short of filing a police report.
I feel ready to collapse into a ball, let myself crumble. I kick off my boots and head toward the addition that’s home to all four of our bedrooms. When I run into Opa in the entryway, he gives me an appraising once-over.
“You look like shit, son. Kinda thought you could hold your liquor better than that.”
Then he reaches for his shoehorn before heading toward the door.
“It’s not the booze,” I rasp. I’m too hollowed out to cry, even though part of me wants to. “It’s Julia.”
Opa’s brows furrow. “Julia, the girl you’re in love with?”
I sigh, almost afraid to admit it out loud in the wake of what’s happened today. Might be easier to prepare myself for the inevitable. Maybe there’s a way to force myself to stop loving her, so that losing her doesn’t hurt quite this badly.
I settle on just shrugging.
