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Chapter Seven
Daphne
Both men freeze. Emerson, eyes wide, startled. Like he’d already resigned himself to die. And Leo, furious. Hurt. Like he was about to murder Emerson.
Which he was.
My hands shake with adrenaline, but I’m not going to let this happen. Neither is Carter. He drove me here after Leo messaged the rest of my brothers to offer them a chance at hurting Emerson. All those unopened paints finally broke him.
Carter showed me the text. I stood up so fast my sketchbook tumbled to the floor.
“Do you want to stop this?” he asked.
Of course I want to stop this. I don’t want Leo to kill anyone for me, and I don’t want Emerson to die. I love him. Even if he only looks at me as a precious piece of art, even if he keeps insisting that he’s not for me, I would never get over it.
Leo’s out of his mind. I’ve never seen him like this before. Not with a knife like this. Not with that look on his face. It scares the hell out of me.
“Put the knife down, Leo.” I have to keep talking, because the silence is killing me as surely as that knife is going to kill Emerson. “Get away from him.”
Leo throws Emerson into the wall and backs away. “I’ll kill him from here. He hurt you, and I’m killing him.”
He raises the knife.
Oh my god.
He’s going to throw it.
And he won’t miss.
I’m running before I can think. Before I can breathe. Carter tries to grab my arm and misses.
“Daphne.” Emerson’s hand comes up, but it’s too late. I’m at him. In front of him. Between the knife and his body.
“What the fuck, Daphne?” The knife spins in Leo’s hand, pointing down. It was almost at his fingertips. “I could have hit you.”
“Listen to me.” My heart is going to fall out and crack like that paperweight. “Stop. Just stop. Please. I don’t want you to kill Emerson. I’ve tried to tell you.”
“That’s what he deserves for what he did to you.”
It’s only now that I see how Leo’s shaking, too. The trembling is only in the silver of the knife. He’s hiding it otherwise, except for how pale his face has gone. Carter steps closer to Leo, looking between the two of us with precision.
“He didn’t do anything to me.” This is terrifying. This is on a level with finding Leo in his office.
“I thought you were dead.” His voice is so sharp it slices through my skin. “And now you’re not painting. He did something to you. I fucking know it.”
“There was—there was a misunderstanding.” Leo still has that knife in his hand, and so much hurt in his eyes that I can barely breathe. “He made mistakes. He shouldn’t have taken my phone. He shouldn’t have kept me in his house. But he didn’t hurt me.”
“I could have hurt you. I could have killed you.” Horror creeps into his voice, and I see him lock his anger down over it. “What did he threaten you with?”
“Leo.” Carter angles himself in front of the knife, then looks over his shoulder at me. “Daphne. Let’s just take a second.”
“For what?” Leo snarls. Carter gives him a look. Gestures him back. Leo takes a begrudging step, fury burning in his eyes.
Carter has seen us avoiding each other at Leo’s house after I came back. He knows things aren’t good. He lives overseas, but he understands more about us than I realized. He sees everything, doesn’t he? Maybe that’s why he left. It’s painful to be in our family. We’re all swimming in each other’s pain. There’s too much of it. Leo’s. Emerson’s. Even mine. I don’t know how to begin this conversation, but we won’t be able to have it at all if Emerson dies tonight.
Emerson puts his hand on my back and lets out a breath.
I lean back into his touch.
