Page 50 of Gilt

“No,” I tell him hoping he can’t see how hard my lower lip is trembling.

“I will not have another slut in this house. If you want to be your mom, you can live with her.” He hurls the insult at me, and it hits me square in the chest. After everything I’ve done for him, it takes so little to shatter my relationship with him forever.

“You won’t speak about your daughter that way,” Jameson sounds too calm as he continues to instruct my father regarding his unacceptable behavior.

“She’s nothing to you.” My dad turns his fury on Jameson, pressing so close to him that their chests bump. “Don’t let him fool you, Emma. The Wests should be studied by scientists. It’s amazing how they can walk around without hearts.”

“She is everything to me,” Jameson interrupts him in a low voice. A thrill of fear ricochets through me as he reveals this.

I spot my dad’s fist before Jameson does, and I jump in front of him in time to catch it in the stomach. The impact flattens me, and I curl into a ball at their feet. Jameson drops to my side instantaneously.

“I need you to breathe, baby. I know it’s hard,” he says when I shake my head, gasping for air that won’t come. “Look at me. In and out.” He demonstrates a slow breathing pattern, and I suck at the air around me until I’m able to imitate it.

“Emma, I’m so sorry.” My dad tries to kneel down next to me. I see the tears on his cheeks, but they mean nothing to me. Jameson shoves him away from me, knocking him onto his ass against the door.

“You don’t deserve to look at her,” he spits before he scoops me into his arms and carries me out the front door.

I tuck my body against his, willing myself to believe the reassuring words he whispers as he places me back in the passenger seat and buckles me up. I can’t tear my eyes away from my childhood home. Dad stands in the doorway, gripping it to stay upright. He looks defeated and small— and for the first time in my life, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JAMESON doesn’t pressure me to talk as we head toward the lights of the city. I stare out the window, not processing the blur of life that we pass. Keeping my knees tucked against my chest, I try to ignore the tender ache in my belly. It’s not really what’s hurting me anyway. Dad didn’t mean to hit me, but I can’t erase the look of hatred on his face as his fist made impact. It was aimed at Jameson, but I felt his vehemence as acutely as I felt the punch. Without realizing what was happening, I’d started to see Jameson’s problems as my own. If Dad hates him, he might as well hate me as well.

I don’t ask where we’re going. I keep my mouth shut to hold back the sobs threatening to spill over. When we finally pull into the far valet circle in front of West Resort, I still can’t bring myself to move.

He unbuckles my seat belt and patiently coaxes me into his lap. I curl into a ball that he doesn’t try to loosen. Instead, he strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. He doesn’t offer me meaningless words of reassurance or excuses for what happened. He’s simply there, and that’s all I need.

When my eyes are finally dry, he tips my chin up with one finger, and gazes down at me. I understand the look I see shining behind his blue eyes even though I’ve never experienced the feeling before this moment. The sensation wraps around me, and I sense it doing the same to him, binding us together. Our lives become inextricable at that moment. We’re inseparable and unbreakable. I’ll carry his pain as he carries mine, and in these strong arms bracketing my body, I’ll find protection.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he prompts.

“No,” I croak, my voice still raw with tears. He doesn’t push it. We both know it was an accident, but accidents aren’t always easily forgiven.

Out the window, it begins to rain, which is as rare a thing in Las Vegas as finding true love. Both have been known to happen, just not often. The raindrops beat an irregular pattern on the roof of the car and slide down the windows like tears.

“I think we’re stuck here,” I say, finding my voice once more.

“If I’m with you, I could be stuck anywhere.” He guides my mouth to his and kisses me softly, then he sighs. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I do need to know if you’re okay physically. Do I need to take you to a doctor?”

“I’m not made of glass,” I huff, but he won’t let me pull away.

“Believe me, I know that, Duchess. You’re far more precious than that. Gold, maybe? But even gold can be broken.”

“He didn’t mean to do it.” I have to face this sooner or later. I had known there would be consequences when my dad found out about Jameson. I hadn’t anticipated they’d be physical. Or that he’d throw me out. “He’s sending me to Palm Springs.”

“Yeah, I caught that.” Jameson buries his mouth in my hair, and silence descends over us once more.

“Do you have a house in Palm Springs?”

“I could,” he says, but the playful tone in his voice remains flat. We both know he can’t leave. Not while there’s an active investigation into his father’s murder, and he’s the primary suspect.

“Who else would want to kill your father?”

“What?” He blinks in surprise at our rapidly changing conversation. I don’t have time to explain that we need to figure this out. “The people here are toxic. Our lives are toxic. We need to get out.”

“But we can’t,” he reminds me. “Not while they’re investigating me.”

“Did they tell you to stay in the city?”