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“I’m not pressuring you to read it, Emma.”
“I know that,” she says firmly. “But you want to, and that’s okay. I’m not sure it’s going to help anyway. He was smart. He didn’t name names and he talks in generalities. But there are some things that might lead you to answers and me, too. I want to know what happened.”
I want that journal, I’ve wanted it since the moment I heard that it was her father’s, but now, here, faced with the opportunity once again to just take it from her, I find myself hesitating, which is all about Emma. It’s all about what she’d said a few seconds before. She doesn’t know how I’ll react to what’s inside. I’m not sure either of us is ready for that reality. “Let’s get out of here,” I say. “We’ll go to your place and we’ll figure this all out.”
“Yes. Okay.” She hesitates and then pushes to her toes and presses her lips to my lips.
I cup her head and kiss her, a deep stroke of the tongue, before I murmur again, “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
She nods, but the mood between us is decidedly grim. The truth is that we’re headed down a dark and winding path filled with quicksand. The kind that might suffocate us both. I don’t know where that leads the two of us. I just know that I can’t walk away, not from my brother who can no longer fight for himself and not from her.”
We step into the room and I shut the patio door. “Let’s decide what we want to order food and order now,” I suggest trying to lighten the mood, getting us back to us.
“If you’re into pizza, I have a favorite place. Mellow Mushroom.”
“I love Mellow Mushroom,” I say, and I notice these small things we have in common, that I might not with someone else. “I miss it.”
We debate our favorite toppings and it’s not the kind of fluff conversation that fills in dark spots of conversations with people you don’t really care about. We settle on our order and when she smiles at me, she lights me up. She lights the whole damn room up. We share a look of warmth, an understanding between us that is about far more than pizza. Beyond reason, family, and perhaps even murder, the words neither of us has dared speak, we get each other. And at this point, we’re in too deep to walk away.
***
We wait until we’re arriving at Emma’s building to push the pay button on our pizza order with a plan to settle inside and be ready to eat without chaos. Entering her apartment building, we step into the lobby, and find a guard behind the security desk who wasn’t there earlier. “I just realized no one ever called me about the security issue,” Emma says as we pass the station.
“We’ll deal with them tomorrow,” I say, sliding my arm around hers. “Who’s the guy behind the desk now?”
“I don’t even know him,” she says. “Which is odd. I haven’t seen a new face here in a very long time.”
I don’t like how that sounds, and I’m not leaving her here alone any time soon. The timing of York and his re-entrance into Emma’s life hits me wrong, but I’m also reminded of the comment she made to him about not sharing some secret. That’s a comment I want to understand before I decide how to handle this.
We step into the elevator and I fold Emma close, under my arm, but neither of us speak. Maybe she knows there are cameras, maybe she doesn’t, but I sure as fuck feel like we’re being watched and I don’t like it. Once we’re on her floor, I have a new concern. If York got into her apartment, could someone get in there to bug the place? We’re talking about murder here, even if Emma hasn’t admitted that to herself.
Halfway to her door, I pull her around to face me. “We need to go back to my hotel.”
“Wait. What? I don’t understand.”
“If York could get into your place, then anyone could. I’m here. I’m with you. There are people who might see that as trouble. And the new guard doesn’t sit right.”
She swallows hard. “What is this, Jax? What don’t I know? What is all of this about?”
“I’d tell you if I knew but I don’t. You don’t know, but damn it, we need to find out without anyone looking. And a hotel is secure. More secure than your apartment right now. Pack to stay with me at the hotel and to go to Maine with me.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know about Maine, Jax. Aren’t we just baiting trouble?”
“Yes, we are. But maybe that’s what we need to do to get real answers. On our terms, with hired undercover security, and a plan. We’ll stay at the hotel until we have that all in place.”
