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It’s not that I want Emilia to live in fear. I don’t get off on that shit the way Wilder does. But so long as this psycho is out there, she’ll be hiding under our roof. The second Kai finds the guy and we catch him, she’ll be gone again, and I’m beginning to think that’s something I don’t want. Every time I try to picture the house without her in it, I see her standing in that goddamn kitchen, and I realize I want that—her. In my kitchen. In my house. In my fucking bed.
After I chatted with Kai earlier, when he informed me that the Jack guy was another dead end, I tried to put all thoughts regarding Emilia to the back of my mind and go back to the frat. I lasted about an hour, listening to those idiots blabber on about absolute shit before I’d had enough. Without even bothering to say goodbye, I was out of my seat and heading for the car.
Of course, Wilder was immediately on my ass with a thousand and one questions, not buying a single one of my vague non-answers. Not that I give a shit. I’m just not in the mood to deal with the hissy fit that I know will ensue if he thinks for one second I’m not on teamLet’s Make Emilia’s Life Hell.
Honestly, I’m beginning to think he needs to grow the fuck up and get over what happened four years ago. When Emilia first showed up, I felt bad for him. I hadn’t realized just how much her presence was going to mess with his head. He’s been acting weirder than normal these last two weeks, avoiding the house and barely talking to me, always out doing who knows what. I think it’s all so he can keep himself busy. Stop himself from thinking abouther. I’m just waiting for him to realize that no amount of distractions can fix the problem.
He needs to confront her and unleash all those long-buried feelings so he can unburden himself and finally move forward. For that reason, I think it’s a good thing that he followed me out of the frat house. He can’t confront Emilia if he’s too busy avoiding her.
As for what I need to do when it comes to Emilia? I don’t have a fucking clue. Half of me wants to fuck her so good that she forgets all about the reason she’s back here with us, and the other half wants to turn tail and run as far as fucking possible from her.
Tension bleeds into the air the closer we get to the house. Anxious anticipation filled with lust, desire, malice, and anger. It’s a fucked up mixture emanating from both Wilder and me, but it’s potent, and it only serves to spike my adrenaline.
Reaching the house, I park the car by the curb outside and turn off the engine. I move to grab the door handle, but I notice Wilder still has his seatbelt on and is staring out the passenger window with a slight frown. I follow his line of sight, taking in the warmth shining out through the windows from the lamps on inside the front porch and living room. My mind wonders what Emilia and Kai are doing behind the closed curtains, and my limbs itch to join them.
“What are you doing? Come on!”
Despite my insistent tone, Wilder makes no effort to move, instead continuing his perusal of the front of the house.
“How much longer is she going to be here?”
I sigh, not liking the knot in my chest at the thought of her leaving. “I dunno, man. You’d need to ask Kai that one.”
Wilder turns to face me. “Isn’t he keeping you updated?”
“Yeah, but so far, he’s got no leads.”
Upon hearing that, his frown deepens before he returns his gaze out the window. I watch him for a moment, trying to figure out if all this pain he feels is really related to Emilia or if she’s simply the unlucky one he’s chosen to direct it all at. The truth is, despite us having become close friends and living together for the last four years, I don’t know much about him—about his past or his family. It’s not something he’s ever brought up in conversation.
His dad used to do business with my parents back when they were involved in the child mercenary business. Wilder’s dad is an arms dealer and was willing to offer up his own son as collateral to secure a business deal, so I can only imagine the sort of upbringing Wilder had. He’s never once mentioned his mom, or any other family, or talked about his childhood, but I’ve seen the shadows that hide behind his broad smile and quirky, unhinged demeanor. They’re the same ones I occasionally see on Hadley, and I get the impression that Wilder carries a hell of a lot more pain and hurt than what Emilia inflicted on him. His scars—both physical and emotional—are far more profound than those left by a broken heart. They’re the kind born from years of suffering. It’s a question of whether that torment was self-inflicted or imposed upon Wilder by others.
“Maybe if the two of you tried talking—”
Wilder’s ice-cold glare cuts me off when he whips his head around to face me. “Don’t fucking finish that sentence.”
Where his glare would have most people folding in on themselves, I simply roll my eyes, more than used to his temper. Hell, it can rival mine. The difference is, I’m frequently in a foul mood, whereas it’s rare that Wilder gets this worked up.
Shaking my head, I return his hostile stare with an unfazed one of my own. “Fine. Keep punishing her.” Yanking on the door handle, I push open the door and step out, but before I close it, I turn around and duck my head back into the car. “But we both know you’re only punishing yourself.”
As I slam the door shut, he yells out, “I am not!” However, I ignore him, striding around the car and up the steps to the house. I hear the car door open just before I close the front door, but I don’t wait for Wilder to catch up. My mind is already on Emilia as I pop my head into the living room to see if she’s there. Finding it empty, I move on to the kitchen, where I find Kai nursing a glass of scotch at the kitchen table.
“Everything okay?”
He lifts his head at my question, and I can immediately see that, no, everything is not okay.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, multiple possibilities flashing across my mind. “What happened? Where’s Emilia?”
“She’s fine. She’s upstairs.”
Hearing that whatever has happened doesn’t concern Emilia has me instantly relaxing, and I move to sit opposite him as I hear the front door slam shut, followed by the banging of footsteps as Wilder stomps up the stairs.
We both wait until his bedroom door slams shut before I ask, “What’s going on?”
Kai shakes his head, taking a hefty sip from his glass. “Nothing new.”
I sit and watch him, noting the dark rings under his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. He’s burning himself out with this job, working all hours and never giving himself a break. Only now, as I take him in, I can tell it’s more than just exhaustion and frustration. Kai’s first impression is of a sweet, guy-next-door type, but underneath that easy-going, charming persona, he’s carrying similar demons to the rest of us.
“This case is hitting too close to home for you.”
