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But before I can say any of that, Emma speaks up.
“Okay. I’m in.” She turns to look at me before glancing up at Trent and Reese, and her hand tightens on mine even though I don’t think she knows she’s doing it.
I can see the determination in her face, and I know this is one of those moments where, despite her softness, the steel in her spine won’t bend.
She wants to do this.
And if she’s doing it, I’m with her all the fucking way.
Something makes me look up at Trent and Reese, and I find them both nodding. Just like when Detective Walton was checking Emma out, their reaction is instantaneous. There’s no thought or debate required.
It’s not just me who’s with her.
We all are.
8
Emma
It’s a relief knowing that Detective Walton is working on bringing Leslie to justice for what she’s done—not just to me and the Icons, but to whatever other innocent victims she’s fucked with or stolen from.
Implicating her in any wrongdoing may still be difficult, especially if she’s covered her digital tracks. But as the detective pointed out just before he left, he’s not trying to beat her at her own game. He knows it’ll be hard to beat her on computer knowledge, so he’s taking a more old-fashioned approach, hoping to find some other way to prove her guilt.
That’s why he’s hoping to get our help in identifying any possible accomplice Leslie may have had. If he can nail down that person, Leslie’s alibis should start to unravel.
God, I want to help. I really want this mess to be over. And honestly, I’m glad we have a detective on our side now—not because I don’t think the guys are capable of standing up to Leslie, but because I was a little worried about what they might do if she pushed them too hard. I’ve seen Trent’s anger in action, and I know for a fact that he can hold a damn grudge.
My feet slow on the pedals of my bike as that thought ricochets around my mind.
Fuck. Am I making a huge mistake trusting these men?
It wasn’t so long ago that I was on opposite sides of them, standing on one side of a line in the sand. After everything they’ve done, is it insane of me to even think about trusting them?
And yet, insane or not, I find that I do.
What Trent said to me last night… I believed him. I’ve never seen him look so humble, so earnest. I doubt there are many people in the world who could bring Trent Cooper to his knees, yet he knelt in front of me last night and swore he wants to make amends for his past actions.
I know all three men are sort of competing with each other over me, although it’s kind of hard to process that fact. Somehow, we’ve gone from the men being united against me to all three of them being divided because of me, which is exactly what I never wanted.
But maybe it’s always been inevitable that we’d reach this moment. Maybe I was kidding myself in high school when I thought that ignoring my feelings for each of them would allow our four-way friendship to continue as it was.
I wonder if Reese and West think they don’t have much competition from Trent because he’s been the biggest asshole to me. He was the one who instigated everything, after all. The one who got me kicked out of Clearwater, the one who refused to believe I didn’t sell out our parents after their illicit kiss.
And maybe all of that means I should hate him forever. Up until recently, that’s certainly what I planned to do. I never thought I could forgive him for what he’s done.
But now, as the landscape changes around us, as alliances shift and betrayals come to light, I can’t stop myself from thinking that maybe Trent is exactly the kind of person I need in my corner.
He loves fiercely.
He cares deeply.
And he doesn’t back down from a fight.
The thought of having all that passion and intense protectiveness on my side sends a little thrill of warmth up my spine. I’m not sure if Trent will ever forgive himself for what he’s done to me, but the fire blazing in his eyes last night made me feel certain that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to earn my forgiveness.
A chilly wind whips past my head as I pedal a little harder, my mind still whirling with thoughts of the three Icons. I left the house with plenty of time to get to my interview, but I don’t want to let my daydreaming make me late. It’s not quite the same as being in school, but having a job would at least make me feel like I was moving forward in a positive direction in my life. And I think it would make Dad worry about me less too. I want him to see that I can take care of myself.
Five minutes later, I’ve reached downtown Clearwater, and the buildings around me have gotten taller and a bit fancier. Our downtown is nowhere near as large and intimidating as San Diego’s, but right now, I’m grateful for that fact. I’m nervous enough as it is.
