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She followed him into his office, and he gestured to the client chair in front of his desk. “Give me a minute. Let me see where we’re at with Damon.”
“Okay,” she said, and then promptly dropped down into the hard plastic chair. Voices and chatter sounded behind her from the cubicles in the middle of the police station. She scanned the plain office with the dull pale blue walls and just the bare necessities on the desk, trying to keep herself busy. When that didn’t work to ease the nerves, she crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, and finally sighed, trying to slow her heart rate.
Her gaze fell to a picture on the wall where a window should have been to let in light. Instant warmth rushed through her tingling limbs. She’d taken the photograph. It was of Acadia National Park, where she and Asher had gone camping to celebrate her eighteenth birthday. That night Asher had taken her virginity under a blanket of stars. The next morning she’d woken early and there’d been a fog that had settled over the lake, making it picture-perfect. She could hardly believe that he’d not only kept the photograph but framed it and put it in his office.
“Interesting couple days.”
She gasped and jerked away from the photograph and the memory, finding Boone’s warm blue eyes regarding her carefully. “That’s one way of putting it,” she said with a snort.
Boone wasn’t blood family, but he’d always been there, watching over her as much as he watched over Kinsley. Not like they appreciated that fact very much when there were teenage girls. “How are you holding up?” he asked, propping his shoulder against the doorframe, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, which was detective attire in Stoney Creek.
A lie sat on the tip of her tongue, but she quickly swallowed that back. “I have no idea what I am at the moment, other than I’m still breathing, so I guess that’s good.”
“It is,” Boone said with a firm nod, and blessedly there was no hint of pity in his gaze. “It’s good you came today to face Damon. This is the right step forward to getting this situation behind you.”
She figured he was probably right, but nothing about any of this felt good. She shrugged as her answer, not really sure she had anything to say. In all honesty, she wasn’t even sure what she had to put behind her anymore. Sure, the fact that Damon wanted to steal her inheritance needed to be put to bed, and that her shop was gone for the foreseeable future. Then there was that she was messed up enough to nearly marry a con man, and that when Asher objected, her heart craved him. But all of that seemed so impossible to put behind her, she didn’t even know where to start.
Boone watched her a moment, obviously misreading her messy emotional state. “You’re not in this alone, Remy.” His voice was as comforting as a bowl of hot stew on a cold day. “I hope you know that. Whatever you need, we’ll be there.”
She wanted to thank him, to say that she knew that, but her throat got clogged up. Her friendships weren’t something she questioned.
Boone gave a soft, sad smile like he knew exactly what she needed. He opened his arms. “Come here.” She rose, then stepped into his big warm arms and comforting embrace. “He’ll pay for hurting you, Remy. Do not doubt that.”
“Thank you,” she finally managed to squeeze out of her tight throat. She leaned away, fighting tears. “Now stop trying to make me cry with all your love and support. I’m already way too emotional.”
Boone chuckled, right as Asher stepped into the doorway. “We’re ready,” he said.
Heaviness returned to Remy in a flash. She exhaled slowly, lifted her chin, and then straightened her shoulders. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
When she went to walk away, Boone stopped her with his hand on his arm. “Stay strong.”
“Always do.” She forced a smile.
He frowned. Damn. Maybe she looked worse off than even she thought.
Putting that aside for now, she followed Asher down the thin hallway to the back of the station, where Rhett waited near a door. Rhett had always been a hard guy to figure out, his expression usually unreadable, and most times he looked pissed off. But today, she swore she could see hints of concern in his dark eyes.
When she reached him, he watched her closely a moment. “You good to have this talk?”
No matter how much all of this sucked, she wouldn’t forget all the love around her. She could do this. Face Damon, then put this hell behind her. “Since I doubt that you’ll let me castrate him, then yes, I guess I have to be okay with just a talk.”
Rhett’s mouth twitched and then he leaned in, keeping the conversation private, and said quietly, “You know I’d vote to castrate too.”
She barked a laugh, a surprise even to her that she could find anything amusing now.
Rhett gave a long look to Asher over her shoulder, having some kind of male private conversation where one look seemed to explain everything, and then he opened the door.
She entered the room, spotted Damon sitting there in his orange jumpsuit, and heat radiated through her chest.
Asher shut the door behind her with a heavy slam and addressed Damon with a low, steady voice, “Remy is here to talk. You’re going to listen to what she has to say. If I don’t like how you talk to her, you won’t like what I’m going to do to you.”
Damon snorted.
Remy didn’t. Damon obviously thought Asher was joking. The firmness in Asher’s voice, the carefully controlled rage in his gaze, told Remy he was dead serious. And she knew, after years of being together, that while Asher prided himself on being a good cop, he was also insanely protective of his friends. Maybe his limit had been reached.
She tried not to think about that too much; she was too emotional as it was.
Asher pulled out the seat across from Damon and then gestured for her to sit. She drew in a long breath and sat down, while Asher stood in behind her. Obviously, a show that he had her back. One she oddly found herself appreciating.
