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Suddenly, I’m shoved against the wall, and I can barely catch my breath as he steps in front of me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Emma…
My head is spinning from the whiskey and I can’t seem to move, shout, or even shove at the man in front of me. He doesn’t touch me. He just stands close, so close. “This path you’re on, if you walk in the wrong direction with Jax, I will make you, and everyone you love pay. Understand?”
“I don’t know what that means. I don’t know.”
“You know. We both know that you know. Do not test me. This is your one and only warning.” With that, he pushes off the wall and walks away. I pant out a breath and shove to a standing position, my gaze landing on the bathroom door, or what I think is the bathroom door. I rush toward it, yank it open, and thank God, it is a small bathroom. I rush inside, shove the door shut and lock it. The toilet is close and despite everything that just happened, I have to pee. I yank at my shirt and do what I have to do, and it’s not until my hands are under the stream of water and my eyes find my reflection that I start to shake. Damn it, I start breathing shallowly. I’m hyperventilating. I’ve never hyperventilated in my life. I shove the toilet seat down and sit, forcing slow, deep breaths, trying to drag myself out of the haze of the whiskey. That man believes my family killed Hunter. I reach for my purse and I yank out my phone, and dial Chance.
“What’s up, sis?”
“How bad was dad?”
“What do you want me to say? He was an ass. You know that.”
“How bad?” I press. “Jax matters to me. He matters so very much to me. Tell me this family isn’t going to rip him from my life.”
“Damn it, Emma. I told you not to get involved with him.”
“That is not the answer I want from you, Chance. It’s not.”
“It’s the answer I have to give you.”
“Tell me you weren’t involved,” I hiss, standing up now. “Tell me you weren’t—”
“I’ve dealt with dad’s shit for all my life, little sis. I’ve protected you from it. He’s dead. It’s over. Don’t stir up his old ghosts. Come home.”
“I am home. I’m moving in with Jax.”
“No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re not moving in with him.”
I hang up. He tries to call back. I turn off my phone. There’s a knock on the door. “Just a minute!” I call out.
“It’s me, baby,” Jax calls out.
I walk to the door and press my hand to the wooden surface. “Jax,” I whisper.
“Open up,” he says. “Let me in.”
“I can’t right now.”
“Are you sick?”
“No. No, it’s not that.”
“Emma, baby, let me in. Come on. Let me in.”
“Go back to the party,” I say.
“Not without you.”
Not without me. God, I love and hate those words. I unlock the door, and Jax is immediately inside with me, shutting it again, locking it. And then his hands are on my body, and I’m against the wall, the smell of him, spice and man, teasing my nose. The feel of him, hard and strong, warming me all over.
“What’s going on, baby?”
I wrap my arms around him. “Echo cornered me. He warned me not to go down a path of no return. He thinks I want to hurt you, Jax. I don’t. I swear to you, I know nothing that you don’t know about any of this. I swear to you that—”
“I know that,” he says, his hand sliding under my hair to my neck. “I’ll talk to Echo. I’m sorry he did that to you.”
“I called Chance. Jax, he said things that make me think Hunter really was murdered. I don’t think he did it but I think he’s covering it up. How do we get by that? How? Don’t tell me it’s not an issue.”
“By holding on,” he says, kissing me. “By falling in love.”
“Don’t fall in love with me,” I warn. “You can’t fall in love with me when my family—”
His mouth comes down on mine, his tongue licking into my mouth, drugging me, a rush of heat spreading through every part of me. “Can’t isn’t a word my father allowed in the castle. I can do whatever the fuck I want. He said so.”
“Jax—”
His mouth is already on my mouth again, his hand sliding over my body, my breast, and I moan with the feel of him. And just like that, we are wild, kissing, touching, and my skirt ends up at my waist, his fingers sliding under the silk of my panties. I catch his hand. “We can’t. Not here.”
“It’s my home,” he says. “And we don’t say ‘can’t’ here, Emma. Remember, you can fall in love with me. You can fuck me wherever the hell you want to fuck me.” His fingers sink deeper inside me and I moan all over again. His teeth scrape my bottom lip, tongue licking the offended skin and I’m done fighting this. I want him. I need him. Those words are on repeat with this man. Those feelings are on repeat with this man.
