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My gaze moves up to connect with Emma’s again, and the second I look into her sad brown eyes, the anger inside me drains away. Now I know why there’s guilt on her face. She’s put this on herself somehow. She probably thinks I’ll find a way to blame her too.
But I won’t.
I won’t let anything come between us, ever again.
Emma steps out of Reese’s embrace and moves toward me, the motion tentative. Reaching out, I haul her toward me and wrap my arms around her, enveloping her small, soft body. She clings to me, and I can feel her shaking, feel the hard, fast beat of her heart against my ribs.
“I’m sorry, Trent. I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice soft and broken.
“Fuck.” West’s voice is quiet, but I know he must be piecing together what’s going on. “Fuck, man.”
The deep rasp of his voice makes the agony in my heart flare hotter, and I tighten my hold on Emma, burying my face in her hair.
Motherfucker. How? How is this possible?
When I woke up this morning, I was on top of the world. My friends and I had helped keep Emma safe from that crazy bitch, Leslie. The threat was over. We took Ems out for dinner, and for the first time in a long time, things felt good between all of us. The strain and tension that fucked up our relationship for so long were finally starting to dissipate. Emma was starting to believe that I truly was on her side.
Then Leslie fucked with us. Somehow, she managed to hack us even though she’s supposedly in some facility for people with addictions and personality disorders.
I almost got arrested because of her.
And now…
My whole world feels like it’s been blown apart.
Ems keeps murmuring that she’s sorry, and I hear Reese talking in a low voice to Officer Lambert. My hand is tangled in Emma’s soft blonde locks, and I don’t know how I’ll ever let go of her. I don’t want to step out of this moment; I don’t want to face the reality of what I’ve just learned.
My hand stills in Emma’s hair as a new thought bounces around in my mind.
Holy fuck. Could Leslie be behind this somehow?
She’s had a hand in every other fucked up thing that’s happened to me tonight. Is it possible she’s actually insane enough that she fucked with my mom too?
Or is she still fucking with me?
A tiny spark of hope lights in my chest, and I keep one arm wrapped around Emma as I reach into my pocket for my phone. My fingers shake, and I grit my teeth against the pain roiling in my chest as I pull up my mom’s contact on the screen.
There’s a picture of her from last Christmas, smiling and happy, and I look away from it as I press the CALL button. I lift the phone to my ear, meeting Reese’s and West’s gaze over Emma’s head. They watch me in silence, their faces tense.
The phone rings once, and Emma lifts her head from my chest, tilting her chin up to look up at me as tears streak
her cheeks.
It rings again.
And again.
Fuck. Please, Mom. Fucking answer.
The phone rings again, and my heart begins to sink. But then a sleepy voice comes on the other end.
“Trent? What is it?”
My mom’s voice is confused and a little rough from sleep, but I don’t give a shit about that. I’m not even sorry I woke her up. Because she’s alive.
“Mom?”
“Yes. What’s going on, Trent? Why are you calling so late?”
