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CARTER
Everything Braden told me about Emma had me unsettled. Even the beer I guzzled down didn’t help. Grabbing another one, I headed outside and stood on the diving board to get a good view of the ocean. Braden said he could tell Emma was scared, but she tried to pretend otherwise when she showed everyone the letter. I wished like hell I was there.
The need to protect Emma heightened in my blood, demanding me to do something. But what? Emma wanted nothing to do with me. She left and we went our separate ways. Setting my beer down, I hung my head. Who the fuck was I kidding? We never went our separate ways; my mind constantly drifted to thoughts of her. No matter how hard I tried to forget, nothing worked. How long would I be able to fight it? I’d done it for four years now, and it grew harder every damn second of every damn day.
“Fuck,” I hissed, pulling out my phone. I scrolled through my contacts until I found Brooks’ name. I pressed send, and the line rang and rang.
I was about to hang up and try again, but he answered. “Hey, man. Congrats on the fight.”
“Thanks,” I said, getting up to pace around the pool. “I was wondering if you could stop by.”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
A long sigh escaped from my lips. “Braden told me about Emma.”
“Ah, I see,” Brooks replied, his tone unreadable. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Staring down the beach at all the homes, I couldn’t help but wonder if Emma was at her parents’ house. They weren’t far away, just about a half-mile down. A part of me wanted to walk that way to see if I could get a glimpse of her. But then, the reality was that it’d only make things worse. Emma was the one who left all those years ago, and I didn’t stop her. How could I? What we had wasn’t exclusive. She had her own life in New York, and I had mine in California. It wasn’t long after she moved when I saw her in the tabloids, holding onto the arm of some douchebag hockey player. After that, I stopped giving a shit and began doing whatever and whoever the fuck I wanted. It was fun, and I enjoyed every minute of it … until now.
All I could think about was Emma. It was as if the wall I’d built inside me had crashed down, exposing my true feelings, the feelings I’d kept buried. My phone beeped, and I started for the back door, thinking it would be Brooks, but I was wrong. The name that popped up said it was Hailey.
Hailey: I’m horny. You free tonight?
Who the hell was Hailey? If memory served me, I believed she was a girl I fucked a couple of weeks ago, but I couldn’t be sure. That was how it had been the past few years, just an endless parade of women whose names I couldn’t remember.
I typed back a reply.
Carter: Busy tonight. Sorry.
Another text came in with a sad emoji face, and I didn’t bother responding. Finally, the doorbell rang, and I hurried inside to let Brooks in. He stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him. Brooks was the spitting image of his father and twin brother with their golden blond hair and blue eyes. People in the MMA world had hoped to have another Twins of Terror duo, just like his father and Ryley, but Brooks shocked us when he decided to pursue an FBI career. I was happy for him.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, extending my hand.
Brooks shook it. “No problem. I’m glad you called. I think I can use your help.”
I motioned for him to continue to the kitchen. “Oh yeah? How so?”
Once in the kitchen, I fetched him a beer out of the fridge, and he twisted off the cap. “I’ve got a time reserved to visit Scar next week. I thought about questioning him myself, but he hates my dad more than anyone. That’s why I think it could be you.”
Brows furrowed, I stared at him curiously. “Why me?”
Brooks downed a gulp of his beer. “Because you’re a legend at the prison. My friend told me the inmates watched your fight this past weekend. And also, Scar doesn’t have issues with your father. He had nothing to do with the Dark Side. Therefore, you’re not on his shit list.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, but …
“What makes you think he’ll tell me anything?” I questioned.
“That’s the thing about Scar,” Brooks replied, scoffing with disgust. “He wants people to know he’s coming. So if he’s the one going after Emma, he’ll say it.”
Fists clenched tight, I could feel the anger well up inside me. “And if Scar confesses to that, I won’t be able to stop from pounding his head into the table.”
Brooks shook his head. “You can’t do that, Reynolds. Out of all the guys you’re the only one I’d consider taking with me. Right now, you’re the safe zone and someone Scar doesn’t have a grudge with. If Emma needs to be staying with someone, it should be you.”
His words caught me off guard, making me think things I shouldn’t. What if it did come down to me being the one to watch over her? Emma would never agree to it. But if she did … I’d be in some serious trouble. Having Emma alone to myself? God, help me.
Brooks finished his beer and tossed it in the trash. “Think you can handle this?”
“I know I can,” I affirmed.
