CHAPTER ONE

AMBER

 

I SAT ON THE EDGE of an overcrowded bench nursing a pounding headache.

“Amber Green.” The prison guard’s words had me standing up way too quickly, my stomach roiled, and I brought the contents of my tummy up. My cellmates moved back. Their sounds of disgust had me apologizing in between heavy heaves. When I finished, I wanted to cry as I looked down at my splattered feet.

“My shoes!” My indulgence from last night stained the once-stunning beige satin on the sides of my very expensive shoes; I lifted one unsteady leg at a time, letting everyone see them. “They're ruined.” I wasn’t met with the sympathy that my shoes deserved. Things seemed almost hostile. “Right,” I said as I dropped my leg and took in their clothes. Not one of them had an ounce of fashion sense; a heel to some of these women would be a weapon, only useful in a fight.

Turning to the female guard, I expected something from her, but her one lazy eye twitched with annoyance. She looked at the ground behind me. I followed her gaze to the pool of sick. “Sorry about that,” I offered the guard, whose gaze only sharpened. Her slicked-back black hair somehow made all her features sharper, angrier. Messing with her wouldn't be good for me.

“She should clean that shit up.” One of the women stood up in protest, glaring at me.  She was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt showing off her manly, muscular arms. On her left bicep, a tattoo of a skull with a cross made of bones bulged. She was a big woman. I moved away from the he-she and closer to the cell door.

“Sit your ass down, Philomena.” I gazed at Philomena. I wanted to add, “Yeah,” but I also didn’t want a black eye. When the cell door opened, I gave a wave to my cellmates. Philomena gave me the middle finger before she spat on the ground out of the corner of her mouth. Rude! I wanted to tell the guard that she should make Philomena clean up her spit, but I didn’t. The drink had nearly worn off at this stage, taking my bravery with it and replacing it with common sense. I quietly and quickly left the cell.

 

***

“Your bail is set at five hundred dollars.”

I slammed my beige bag on the counter; it was the matching set to my ruined shoes. This night had turned into a disaster.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. Where the hell would I get five hundred dollars from?

The officer didn’t answer me. She just eyeballed me instead, like she had earlier. I wanted to reach across the counter and unbutton the top button of her shirt. It looked way too tight, and it had to be cutting off her circulation. Maybe that’s why she looked so serious.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” she asked, with her head tilted down so she was looking at me from under her eyelashes. I glanced away, not giving her an answer. My list of people to call didn't look promising. I couldn't ring my parents, they would have a fit and my brother, Luke–no he would drag me home, and that was the last place I wanted to go. 

“Look, officer, I haven’t been in trouble before, and this really is a misunderstanding.” 

She rolled her eyes at me, before craning her neck back and shouting. “Jackson!” Her almost-scream had me moving back away from the counter as a younger officer appeared, obviously Jackson. He seemed nice as he gave me a soft smile before flicking his hair to the side. “Take Miss Green back to her cell, she isn’t ready for her phone call yet.” Jackson opened his left arm in a gesture, as if he were saying after you.

I pleaded with the female officer. “You saw how Philomena looked at me! You can’t send me back in there.” My pleas fell on deaf ears. “Officer, if we could arrange some kind of payment scheme…" 

The female guard snorted a laugh. “Jackson, get this clown back in her cell.”

What the hell could I say to that?

 

***

EMMETT

 

Celine moved around the bedroom, gathering up her clothes. Once she had her red dress back on, she sat down on the bed and pulled her long blond hair over her shoulder before looking back at me. “Would you zip me up?” I sat up, still naked, and her eyes roamed my body. I zipped her up and lay back down. When she turned around, she bit her lower lip, before crawling up towards me. “You drive me crazy.” She said as she dragged her long red nails up my thighs. I let her, until she reached towards the inside of my leg, but before she could reach her prize, I took each of her wrists in my hands. Her brown eyes narrowed; she didn’t like rejection. 

“Not now,” I told her. 

She glanced down at my growing erection then back at me. “I beg to differ.” She smiled and tried to pull her wrists from my tightening hands, but I held firm. Her eyes snapped to mine. “Fuck’s sake, Emmett, you’re hurting me.” I released her immediately, and she got off me before grabbing her shoes off the bedroom floor. Her blond hair covered her face like a veil and, when she whipped it back over her shoulder, she looked at me.

“Is there someone else?”

It was such a turn-off when a beautiful woman became so jealous and insecure. I wanted her gone. “Yes.” I stood up and moved past her, getting my dressing gown from my walk-in closet, which she stupidly followed me into.

“I thought–“ she started, but my ringing phone had her moving towards the dressing table where it sat. She picked it up, looking at the caller ID before looking back at me with narrowed eyes. “Grace. Is that who you’re screwing?” I didn’t answer her as irritation burned under my skin. I didn’t allow her to see it as I slipped on my dressing gown.  I moved across the room to Celine and took my phone out of her hand.

“Get out, Celine.”

Panic set in her eyes like I had seen a million times. A fake smile grew on her face, and she flicked her hair. “Baby, it's fine.”

“Hi, can you give me a moment?” I asked Grace before looking at Celine. I didn’t speak, just stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

“You’re an asshole,” she screamed at me before leaving my room.

“Who did you piss off?” Grace asked, laughter evident in her voice.

“I think the real question is who haven’t I pissed off. Is everything okay with you?”  I asked.

Grace paused, “Actually, I’m looking for a favor.” Grace sounded really uncertain. “It’s pretty big." She added.

“Are you okay?” She sounded worried, and that frightened me. Where was Derek?

“Yes I’m fine; it’s actually for my best friend."

Relief had me relaxing. “Okay, tell me what you need."

 

AMBER

 

Philomena made it her business to sit beside me the moment I got back into the cell. I tried to curl up into a tiny ball, hoping I would go undetected, but no such luck. The moment I walked back into the cell she had started. “Here’s Valerie Vomit.” Jackson had hit the cell bars with his stick. “Knock it off,” he’d shouted, and I rolled my eyes. That helped. The minute he’d walked away, Philomena had moved beside me. “Are you going to clean up your mess?” 

Was she fucking serious? I looked around the cell for help. Everyone stared at me, but no-one did anything. “What will I clean it up with?” I asked Philomena slowly, to let her know I thought she was as thick as shit, but without saying it. Just in case she accused me of it, I would play dumb.

“Your dress.” 

I stood up, looking down at my favorite dress. “Not going to happen, Philomena,” I told her, hoping I sounded tough.

She started to laugh, and all the rest joined in. At that moment, I feared she would drag me across the sick just to make a point.

 “Jackson,” I screamed, and silence filled our cell. “Jackson!” I roared louder.

“Calm down. It's a joke, princess.” Philomena moved away from me, and when Jackson appeared, I almost cried with relief.

“I want to make my phone call,” I told him while looking back at my cellmates, who looked at me without looking at me, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But I knew, I knew they were waiting for Jackson to go, waiting for their time to pounce. No, I wasn’t paranoid. I just knew they were looking at me.

***

 

I had rung Grace. I felt terrible, but if anyone was going to help me, it would be her. Unfortunately, she was away with Derek for a few nights. So, her brother, who I had never met before, was coming to bail me out. How embarrassing.

I sat in a chair that was designed to damage your spine. Jackson sat behind the counter now, his eyes on the screen of his computer. No one else was around. I looked at the door and thought about getting up and leaving. Would Jackson even notice, I wondered. I shifted getting ready to stand, just to see what would happen, but a lawyer was making his way into the building. He looked really serious; maybe his client had committed some horrible crime, like murder. I would be a walk in the park for him with my drunk and disorderly, which, in my opinion, was bullshit. Lawyer guy didn’t even glance at me as he walked up to the counter. I looked around the small room, wondering how much longer I would have to wait. There wasn’t even a magazine to read, and my phone had died a while ago.

“I’m here to bail out Amber Green.” I heard lawyer guy inform Jackson. Whiplash was definitely on the cards with how quick I looked at him. That was Emmett? Jackson pointed at me with a pen and Grace’s brother looked at me, examining me before turning back to Jackson. “Where do I sign?” he asked as I examined his very nice backside. He was good-looking, in a cold, prick-ish kind of way. He didn’t look like Grace at all. When he turned back to me, the word I would have used for his expression was bored.

I stood up and straightened my dress. “Hi, I’m Amber.” I reached out my hand and I saw the hesitation in his eyes.

“Emmett.” He shook my hand so briefly that I wondered if I had imagined it. Maybe he was a germaphobe or something. I looked around him to Jackson.

“Thanks, Jackson, send my love to Philomena.” I wanted to add the bitch, but I didn’t want to push my luck any further tonight. So, giving him a sweet smile, I followed Emmett outside instead.

“Thank so much, Emmett. I swear, you’re a Godsend. I’ll pay you back.” I smiled at him, and he looked at me with nothing, like nada. Okay, maybe it was my alcohol-fueled brain.

“It’s fine.” He glanced at a black Bentley. Was that his ride? Grace kept that quiet. Her brother was loaded. “Can I give you a lift?”

It wasn’t until that moment that I wondered what time it was. “Yeah, sure.”

Emmett opened the back door for me and I got in sideways. My dress was short, and I didn’t want to give Grace’s brother a peep show. Not that he showed any interest at all, anyway. Still I had my pride. He would give off more of a reaction watching paint dry. I was a little more than surprised when he climbed into the back with me, my alarm bells–internal ones, of course–started to ring. How did I know this was really Grace’s brother? This guy could do anything to me. I knew the moment he looked at me that something wasn’t right with him.

“Amber?” He had asked me something, but my mind had switched to panic mode.

“Who sent you?” I asked, clutching my bag tightly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” My heart galloped as the window that divided the driver from us whizzed down.

“Where to, Mr. Harrington?” Oh, fuck. This wasn’t Grace’s brother; Grace’s last name was Bradley.

“When the lady answers my question, I can let you know, Frank.” Emmett looked at me, his eyes showing some irritation.

“Answer mine first, Emmett, if that is your real name?” Pretend Emmett just stared at me. I knew it, none of this was adding up. Grace would have told me if her family were this rich, and the longer I was in this guy’s presence, the more I realized he was nothing like Grace.

“Let me out.” I moved towards the door, but Emmett blocked it. Not intentionally, that’s just where he had been sitting, but it still scared the shit out of me.

“My sister, Grace, rang me and asked me to bail you out. She couldn’t come herself because she was away with her soon-to-be fiancé."

I did a double take. “Oh my god Grace is getting engaged?” A huge smile broke across my face. Emmett wasn’t smiling, not in the slightest.

“Where can I drop you off, Miss Green?” He repeated, rather than answering my question. In other words, he was asking me how much longer he had to be in my presence. Now he sounded pissed, but I didn’t care.

“Forty-seven Bracked Avenue, Lower Street,” I said. Frank whizzed up the window without a word, and we pulled away from the station. So, he was Grace’s brother. My bad. I sat back and smiled. Grace was getting engaged. I felt so happy for her; she deserved a happily-ever-after. I squealed. “I’m going to be the maid of honor,” I told Emmett.

“How nice.” He answered while looking out the window. His monotone and stone face weren’t lost on me. I prayed he wasn’t the best man; I just couldn’t deal with him.

“How well do you know Derek?” I quizzed.

“Well enough.” There was a bite to his answer, and a suspicion in his eyes. This guy was fucking scary. I looked away from him, done with talking.  

We pulled up outside my building. “So, this is me.” How the hell do I end this?

Emmett stepped out of the car, holding the door open. Wow, he really wanted me gone, and quick. I climbed out and smiled at him. “Thanks so much. I will pay you back every penny.”

He dipped into the car without so much as a glance, confusing the fuck out of me. “There’s no need.” His hand reached for the door and I held it, stopping it from closing.

“No, I will.” He stared at me for a moment.

“You can give it to Grace, Miss Green.” He pulled the door closed again, but not with any force. He was just telling me to let the door go, so I did. I stood on the curb as the black Bentley pulled away.

Asshole.

My stomach grumbled as the smell of food wafted from the Chinese place a few doors down. For a moment, I walked in the direction of it, but nature's call was louder. I turned and walked into my apartment.