Jack

I’m on the other side of the door, holding the handle in case I need to go out there again. Once we’re inside, Coco wiggles out of my arms and runs to the table where her breakfast waits.

Naming her Princess of Atlantia won me major brownie points with the sassy preschooler. That, or it won me the title of Royal Packhorse, or bodyguard.

Two positions I’m more than happy to fill.

Outside, neither Ember nor her mother’s voice is raised, but I can hear the tension through the door. I saw it in their eyes, and it radiates off Ember’s body. I know their history is rocky, and I know Ember wants me to let her handle it.

Still, Marjorie Warren has already gone to great lengths to keep us apart, and I won’t let her get away with it again. I won’t let her get away with threatening my girl. I am still a lawyer, and I can stop her.

Finally, I see her mother leaving. Ember waits a few seconds longer before slowly reentering the cottage. She looks wounded, and I hate she’s dealing with this—especially in view of what I have to do.

Going to her, I put my hands on her waist. “You okay?”

She shrugs. “I don’t like fighting with her. But it’s the only thing she understands.”

“Control is the only thing she understands,” I say. “Anything out of her control is a threat.” Dark eyes blink up to mine, and I place my palm against her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

She smiles, and I lean forward to kiss the tip of her nose. Her hands are around my waist, and she’s looking at me with that expression she used to have. Like I was the most important guy in the world. It gives me so much confidence.

“What shall we do today?”

I glance over to the clock then down to the table where our breakfast sits. “Let’s finish up here then head to the beach. We can spend the afternoon at our place.”

---

“Your truck is loud!” Coco shouts, sitting between us in her seatbelt on a mermaid booster chair, also courtesy of Thelma.

Her hands are clasped over her ears. The windows are down, and my arm is propped on the door as I drive. Emberly looks out the open passenger’s window, catching her long dark spirals as they wind around her neck and face.

“It’s an old truck, but it’s good for hauling,” I explain.

“What’s hauling?” Coco frowns up at me.

“Carrying stuff.”

Soon I’m slowing us down, pulling off to park in the copse just beside the road. Coco bounces in her seat, quickly unfastening her seatbelt and hopping out after her mother. Ember grabs the enormous tote bag she packed with more shit than I’ve ever taken to the beach.

“Taking Coco requires more supplies,” she explains.

I’m still not convinced.

I grab the umbrella and towels, and I’m following behind the two of them. Coco runs full-speed, clearly familiar with this private beach spot. I watch Ember’s cute little ass sway in her cutoffs. Her dark hair hangs in spiral curls to her waist, and my thoughts go to the last time we were here.

I wonder if Coco naps at the beach…

The trees open, and pale brown sand extends to dark blue waters. The little girl drops everything she’s carrying on the spot and runs straight into it squealing with glee. Ember looks over her shoulder and smiles at me. I wink back. I can relate to that expression of unbridled joy pretty well.

Coco runs up and down the surf as we set up camp. “She’s been coming here since before she could walk,” Ember says, sitting on a towel and watching her daughter. “I’m so happy she loves it as much as me.”

“I’ve missed it,” I say, dropping beside her. “It’s the only thing I missed as much as you.”

She smiles and scoots closer, resting her back against my chest. The warmth of her skin on mine is the best thing in the world.

“Tell me about what you did when you left,” she says softly. “I only had the one letter.”

My brows pull together. “I’d forgotten about that. What did it say?”

“Not enough to live on for ten years.” She lets out a sad little laugh. “You were getting settled in. You missed me. You wouldn’t be home until fall break in October. You never came home.”

An old ache twists in my chest, and I kiss the side of her head. “I’m home now. We’re all home.”

“Home…” She turns to the side and wraps an arm around my waist, pressing her lips to my skin before placing her cheek against my chest. “Let’s don’t be sad. Tell me what it was like.”

“It was the normal college experience, I guess. Books, studying, exams, more exams. It was pretty boring compared to all the interesting things you were doing back here.”

That makes her laugh for real. “Flailing around, trying to grab onto anything that would anchor me? Yeah, that was awesome.”

Coco charges up then. “Mommy!”

Ember sits up and holds out her hands to catch her daughter’s sandy ones. “What?”

“Is today a holiday?”

Ember smiles and holds her. “No, sweets. What makes you think it’s a holiday?”

“We didn’t go to church!” Her little brow clenches. “Are we in trouble?”

That makes her mother laugh. “Why would we be in trouble?”

“Pastor Green yells so loud!” Her voice goes loud and she holds both hands up beside her face. “He’s going to shout at us for not being in church.”

“It’s okay, honey.” She leans forward and hugs her daughter. “Not everybody goes to church every single Sunday.”

“Bad people,” she says, nodding. “People who sit in the naughty chair. When we get home will we sit in the naughty chair?”

“Nope!” Ember says, with a big smile. “We’re going to play, and when we get home, you’ll take a bath, and you can have a red monster number five cupcake.”

That does it. Coco throws both hands over her head and does a little dance in a circle. She stops quickly and reaches around.

“Ouch,” she says, and Ember pulls her close.

“What’s the matter Coco bean?”

A quick examination shows the tag is chafing her tender skin, and Ember takes it off. “Run like the mermaid babies!” she cries, and Coco does another dance, running into the surf in only her bikini bottoms.

Watching the interaction start to finish, I’m so solidly in love. “She’s adorable. I want to paint you with her. Mermaid mother and child.”

“I’d love that.” Ember tosses the offending top aside and leans against my chest again. “She’d love it, too. She really likes you, and that makes me happy.”

My hands slide up and down her arms. She never finished telling me about Coco’s father, and I decide in this moment I don’t need to know about him.

Still, I can’t understand one thing. “I don’t know how he could give her up. I don’t know how he could give you up.”

She squints one eye at me, and does a little smile. “Are you sorry he did?”

“Hell, no. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Catching her face, I kiss her solidly, pushing her lips apart with mine and sliding my tongue against hers. I do it again, once more just to be sure she’s feeling it.

I let her go, and when our eyes meet, the heat is palpable. “Hmm…” she says, a sly smile on her lips.

“What’s that about?” I ask, sliding my thumb over the faint cleft in her chin.

“I’ve always loved being here with my daughter…” As her voice trails off, she starts to giggle, eyes twinkling.

The little girl squeals, and we both look over to see her in her pink inflatable ring, riding in and out on the surf.

“She’s having a great time,” I say quietly.

“She’ll sleep well tonight.”

I hear the suggestion in her tone, and I know it’s time. I have to tell her the truth. “I have to leave Oceanside.” Her expression changes to confusion, and my hands tighten on her sides. “I left some unfinished business. I’ve got to go back and finish it.”

Ember is so strong, but in that moment, I see a flicker of fear in her eyes. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully. “I hope only a few days, but it might take me a week.”

She sits up, moving away from me, and the cool breeze underlines the fact she’s no longer in my arms. Her chin drops, and long hair ripples across her face.

“Are you crying?” I place my hand on her calf.

A little sniff, and she touches the back of her hand to her eye. “I just had the most painful feeling… like I could lose you again, that you won’t come back. That you’ll disappear.”

My arms surround her so fast, she exhales a little noise. “Look at me.” She’s on my lap, and her dark eyes flicker up to mine as she obeys me. “I will come back.” My voice is stern. “I am coming back, and after that, I won’t leave here again. Unless I take you with me.”

She drops her head to my chest, and I tuck it under my chin. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, and I understand her panic when I say I’m leaving. It’s a whisper in the back of my mind. Too many echoes of the past are bound up in those words.

“We won’t say goodbye,” I speak against her silky hair, kissing her head, inhaling lavender and sugar. “We’ll never say goodbye again.”

Her head moves in a nod, and her hand is flat against my chest. Pushing gently, she leans back, and while her eyes are glistening, I see resolve in them. Things are not the same as last time.

“We’re not children anymore.”

“We also have modern tech.” I give her a wink, and she does a little half-smile. “I’ll text you constantly, and when my thumbs fall off, I’ll call you.”

“I have to wait for your thumbs to fall off?” A dark eyebrow arches.

“I’ll call you every minute of every day. Every time I think of you, your phone will ring.”

“Okay,” she laughs. “Now you’re being ridiculous. I have to work.”

That makes me smile. “Only if you promise not to worry otherwise.”

Dark eyes soften, and she kisses my lips. “I promise.”

---

Ember and Coco are safe and secure in the cottage when I leave. Coco demands a detailed explanation of where I’m going and when I’ll be back. I can’t tell her everything, but she’s satisfied with my promise to call and hear her decrees for Atlantia every night. She’s as adorably bossy as her mother, who stands back quietly smiling, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Pain twists in my gut, and I pull her to my chest, holding her small body molded perfectly into mine.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” I say against her head.

Her slim arms are around my waist, and she nods against my chest.

“Nonstop calling, texts until my thumbs fall off,” I continue.

She only nods again.

“We’re in control of what’s happening now.” My hands travel up her arms to her shoulders, and I move her back to see my eyes. Hers are still gleaming, so I kiss one, then the other. “Tabby has instructions to keep an eye on you. Chad is still searching for Bucky, who I owe an ass-kicking…”

Her nose wrinkles, and she shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure he’s running scared.”

“Still.” I touch her chin with my thumb. “While I’m away, I’ve made sure you’re protected.”

“Who’s protecting you?”

My palm cups her cheek, and I kiss her deeply, pushing her lips apart, tongues colliding. She moves in closer, and heat rises below my belt.

I could kiss her forever, but I take a breath, lifting my chin with a groan. “Fucking unfinished business.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she says, and I kiss her hand before getting in my truck.

---

Driving The Beast into the city, I rehearse the plan in my mind. I’ll schedule a meeting with Brice first thing this morning, tell him what he has to do, and give him two days to come clean.

When I’d gone to his estate, I was shocked and reeling and trying to figure out how and if I was implicated in his deception. I hadn’t made an ultimatum.

Leaving, going to Oceanside, finding Emberly and Coco and knowing what I want for my life has put everything into perspective. I won’t be the guy who knows about something like this and lets it go without a word. Even if it’s career suicide, I’m not covering it up. The stakes are too high.

Standing in the lobby of the twenty-story high-rise, I smooth my hand down the front of my custom tailored suit. It’s dark grey with only the faintest pinstripes. It fits my body like a glove, no bagging or extra fabric. I remember being angry before if such things weren’t right. My image was all I had.

It’s been weeks since I’ve worn a suit, and while I still like the feel of it, the attraction of being in this place has faded. Using my card, I’m able to enter the building before business hours. I’ve come early to beat the crowd, to avoid the surprised questions of where I’ve been and why I’m back. I have one purpose in being here—to confront Brice and resign.

Polished steel doors open, and I step inside the glossy wood-lined box. I hit the button labeled 21 and the doors close. Riding up in silence, I reflect on the decade I buried myself in paper and books and cases hoping to forget her.

I’m not even angry about it. Knowledge is never wasted. I’m glad for the experience. I just have a different life waiting for me back home. My priorities have changed.

With a ding, the doors slide open, and I step out onto pale marble tiles. The gleaming glass doors etched with the words Wagner & Bancroft greet me. A new receptionist is behind the desk, and I’m glad I don’t have to see Tiffany again. This one is short with dyed red hair cut in a classic bob, bangs and all.

“I’m sorry.” She stands quickly, hitching her navy skirt up at the waist of her pinstripe oxford shirt. She briefly reminds me of Tabby with her winged eyeliner and red lips. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Hello…” Leaning forward, I read her name off the plate. “Erica. I’m Jack Lockwood, one of the partners here.”

“Oh!” A perfectly outlined brow arches, and green eyes quickly scan the cut of my suit. “Mr. Lockwood. I thought you were… on leave.”

Figures they’d make up some bullshit story about why I disappeared so abruptly. “I’ve been out of town,” I say. “I have a meeting this morning with Mr. Wagner.”

A few mouse clicks and green eyes move to mine. “Mr. Wagner doesn’t have you on his schedule for today.”

I’m frustrated by the possible delay in my plans. “Will he be in this morning? Is his schedule open?”

Erica’s eyes slide over my suit, down my arm, and straight to my left hand, third finger. “He will. His schedule is clear, but I’ll enter your name for…”

“Nine.”

“Oh, I have a bit of your mail here.” She bends forward slowly, extending her derriere in my direction. When she straightens, she’s holding the latest issue of the bar association journal. “They have a very interesting article just inside…” Her finger holds the flap, and I take it.

“Thanks.” As I head down the hall leading to my office, I look inside the magazine cover. A card drops out, and I have to stop and retrieve it.

It’s one of Erica’s business cards. Flipping it over, I see on the back in a hasty script is written, Call me anytime.

My eyes narrow, and I wonder what exactly we’re putting in our want ads for receptionists these days. Tossing the magazine and the card onto my empty desk, I boot up my computer. While I wait for it to load, I glance around the room. It appears all my files have been removed. I open one of my desk drawers, and it’s clean as well. I guess Brice took me at my word when I said I was leaving.

Once my desktop is online, I access the office intranet, searching for the files I’d uncovered the night of our win. I’m not surprised to find everything has been wiped clean.

I slip my hand in the my pocket of my blazer and take out the thumb drive I’d used to download everything that night—while I sat and polished off a fifth of scotch… before I left here with Tiffany.

“What an asshole,” I grumble, thinking of my former state.

At the same time, I’m not so quick to judge. I’d thought this firm, this status and position were my life, and I thought it was all crumbling to bits around me. I’d thought Ember was gone forever, and I was losing everything all over again. I had no idea I was so close to getting it all back… with benefits.

Being alone really fucks with your head.

Being alone and trapped in a life you hate is even worse. Passing a hand over my mouth, I hope I never find myself in that state again. Leaving this place and returning to Oceanside, even if I hadn’t found Ember waiting for me there, even if I’d only returned to a simple life of painting houses and being friends with André and being a part of that small community—it was the best decision I ever made.

Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text.

In the old corner office—couldn’t be more ready to leave.

A few moments pass, and I wonder what she’s doing now. She’s taking Coco to school and working on the new orders Tabby brought in on Saturday. She has Donna’s wedding cake to plan. I imagine my girl will be so busy this week, she might not even have time to miss me.

Although, I selfishly hope she does.

Hate sleeping alone now. CC wants cheesy eggs, #amgrumpy and all the coffee in the world isn’t making you here.

I laugh at her words.

Miss you, too. I love you.

Seeing it there, knowing she’s reading how I feel causes my chest to rise. It’s nothing compared to her words in response.

I love you, Jackson Cane.

The small clock on my desk chimes gently, letting me know it’s nine. I glance up at the square, brass device my dad had given me when I’d joined the firm. Nostalgia aside, I know what it means—here come the minions.

I slip the thumb drive into my pocket, knowing what I suspected is true. Brice didn’t waste time waiting to see what I’d do with the information I uncovered. He started deleting files and burying evidence the moment I left his mansion.

Tension tightens in my stomach. I wonder what else he’s done to protect himself and this firm. I have to be careful—I’ve been off the grid for almost two weeks. A lot can happen in that time.

My phone buzzes, and I snap into shark mode. Fuck what I said to my dad, I am a natural-born killer when it comes to this game, and I’m not letting these assholes get away with anything.

“Mr. Lockwood?” Erica’s voice purrs through the line.

“Yes, Erica,” I say coolly.

“Mr. Wagner will see you now.”

Standing, I have only the thumb drive in my pocket. My hands are empty when I stride toward the door. I want it that way. I want him to think I have nothing and he’s won. It actually tilts the balance of power in my favor.

“Jack.” Brice leans back before rising from his buttery leather chair. “What an interesting surprise.”

His office is the largest corner in the building. It faces southwest. Alex Bancroft is on the northeast corner in the mirror office to this one. I’ve only had limited dealings with Alex in the eighteen months I’ve been here. We never worked together on a case, so I don’t know if he’s as shady as his partner. Still, I have to believe if they’ve come this far together, they support each other’s decisions.

“Is it?” I watch him for any indication of what’s to come.

He holds out his hand, and I sit in the low leather chair. It’s the same setup as my dad’s office—it’s the same as every office I’ve ever been in where the balance of power is determined by whoever has the higher ground.

He returns to his chair. “What brings you in today?”

It’s been less than a month. The ink isn’t dry on the court papers. “My name is attached to a situation where fraud and dishonesty were used to cover up evidence. I’m here to make matters right.”

Brice’s thin lips curve into a smile. “Is that so? And to what situation are you referring?”

He knows damn well what situation, but I’ll play along. “Our last case together.”

He has the nerve to act confused. “You mean the case where we successfully defended Big Traxx against a multi-million dollar lawsuit that would have put them out of business?”

“The one where I found suppressed evidence the driver took medications provided by his employers. Amphetamines that allowed him to drive longer than is legally permissible, which resulted in the death of a child.” Coco’s little head on my shoulder, her hand on my back flashes through my mind. “I’m here to make it right, to be sure the family receives restitution, and yes, if it means Big Traxx has to go out of business, then that’s what it means. At least no other children will be killed.”

The room falls silent after my speech. The only sound is the ticking of the clock facing me on Brice’s desk, the squeak of his chair as he moves in it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack. I’ve already told you such evidence doesn’t exist.”

My jaw clenches. I see clearly where he’s headed with this. “I saw everything.”

Rising out of his chair again, he walks over to the window facing the city skyline. “Jack, you’re exhausted. You worked so hard to earn your place at this firm. You worked so hard straight out of law school.” He clasps his pale, meaty hands. “Tiffany came to me quite upset. She told me about the little drive you two made down to the lake, how you forced fellatio—”

“Tiffany? What?” My throat tightens. What the fuck?

“Oh! Not that I blame you.” He holds out a pale meaty hand. “Tiffany Rogers is one heck of a pretty girl, but still, we can’t condone such behavior among our partners. Times have changed.”

Panic rises in my chest. Emberly… “I never touched Tiffany. We had a few drinks. We went for a drive—”

“Drinking and driving?” His eyebrow cocks. “Not a good combination. But I know, I know. We were celebrating a big win… you’d been celebrating quite a bit. When I heard Tiffany filed a sexual assault complaint with the police, it was all I could do to keep them from putting out a warrant for your arrest—”

“That’s a lie!” I’m out of my chair now. “You have no proof of any sexual misconduct on my part with her because there is none.”

His congested laugh makes me nauseated. “And you have no proof of any wrongdoing on the part of our client. Because there is none.”

Blood runs cold from my face down my neck into my arms. My hand goes into my coat pocket, and my fingers tighten around the thumb drive as Brice continues.

“We’re prepared to make this entire matter about you and your inability to conduct yourself in a professional manner, start to finish. Sexual assault, driving under the influence, making slanderous accusations of suppressed evidence…” He pauses, and levels his cold blue eyes on mine. “Or you can tender your resignation and admit you were suffering from exhaustion. We’ll chalk it up to a misunderstanding, get the charges dropped, and you can crawl back into whatever hole you’ve been hiding in for the past few weeks.”

These guys don’t just want to end my career, they want to end me. They want to send me to prison.

“I guess you’ve got me,” I say quietly.

“We’ve got you.” Brice smirks. “It’s possible a lenient judge might drop the other charges, but sexual assault means you’ll have to register as a sex offender.”

I’m having difficulty swallowing. Coco… A pain in my temple tells me I have to fight. If I back down now, they’ll destroy me. The wheels have already been set in motion, and I had no idea.

“Sounds like I have some packing to do,” I say giving what I hope is a defeated smile.

His brow relaxes, and he thinks he’s won. “I’m glad you’re seeing reason.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

---

“Jack Lockwood, the enemy!” Homicide detective Ian Carney is one of my oldest friends in the business. He’s also oddly cheerful. “What’s new in running from justice?”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” I ask with an equal dose of sarcastic cheer. “Nice to know some things never change.”

“Call me paranoid, but I’m naturally suspicious when a high-powered defense attorney calls me out of the blue. Especially one who’s trying to dodge a sexual assault charge.”

My lips tighten. As much as I like bantering with Ian, this situation has become darker than I expected. “Actually, I’m calling to see if you can meet me for coffee. I need your help.”

I’ve met angry truckers, private detectives, and nervous doctors at Grinder’s. It’s the first time I’ve been the one on the ropes meeting with a man I hope can help me out of a jam.

“What’ll you have today, sugar?” Meg, my usual waitress, stands beside the booth chewing gum and pulling a pencil from behind her ear.

I glance over to the case and see a couple of pies circling. It makes me think of Emberly and how I’ve got to fix this and get back in her arms.

“Coffee with cream.”

Her eyes move to Ian, and he nods. “Same.”

Waving her hands she does a little “Fine” and heads back toward the bar. I’ll still leave her a decent tip, but I’m not in the mood for anything else.

“So you have proof evidence was hidden, but you don’t have proof you weren’t involved.” Ian leans forward on the table. “And the sexual assault claims?”

I’ve told him everything, given him the thumb drive, of which I made a copy before leaving my office.

“It’s our former receptionist, who they replaced while I was gone. We were always friendly…” Why would Tiffany lie for them?

Meg puts two coffee cups between us with one hand then fills them from a glass carafe in her other. “Anything else?”

“Not now,” I say quickly. “Thanks, Meg.”

She saunters off, and Ian takes a sip of black coffee, equally black eyes never leaving my face.

“Well?” he says.

“Well what?” I reply, pouring one cream into my cup and giving it a stir.

“Did you sexually assault the receptionist?”

I nearly spit the sip of coffee back into my cup. “No! I never. We went for a drive my last night here. She wanted to go skinny dipping…”

I’m not even going to say what all Tiffany wanted to do.

His eyebrow cocks, and he leans back against the red vinyl booth. “So you fucked her?”

“No.” I set the cup down hard. “I never touched her—except to put her in a Lyft and send her back to her apartment.”

“Look, Jack, I’ve been to your office. I’ve seen Tiffany.” He holds his hands like he’s gripping melons in front of his chest. “I mean, I’ve seen her.”

“I never touched her.” My voice is seething. “I was furious about what I’d uncovered and trying to decide what to do about it. I knew if I said anything, they’d deny it. I didn’t know they’d pin it all on me with a side of sexual assault.” Leaning back, I exhale a groan. “They’re trying to destroy me.”

He’s quiet a moment, staring at his cup. Then his dark eyes cut up to mine. “How do you know she’s on their side?”

My head jerks back. “What’s that?”

“Brice told you she’s on their side, but have you talked to her? Why would they replace her if she’s threatening a lawsuit against a lawyer they want to control?”

“They don’t want that kind of publicity. They’re one of the oldest firms on the eastern seaboard. Sexual misconduct kills female business and pisses off female judges faster than anything else.”

He’s shaking his sandy brown head. “Nope. They let her go to hide her. How long had she worked there?”

“She’d been with us about a year.”

“Now set that aside. It’s a separate issue, a smokescreen—”

“A smokescreen they can use to destroy my life and make it look like I invented suppression of evidence to save my hide.”

He scoots forward in the booth. “Mind if I take this with me?” He holds up the duplicate thumb drive.

I do a little wave. “Take it. It’s half the reason I asked you to meet me.”

He studies the small black drive in his hand. “I’ll go through it and see if I spot anything that absolves you while implicating Wagner and Bancroft.”

“In the meantime?” I know what I want to do, but I want him to give me permission first.

“Lay low. Act like you’re playing their game.”

I make a disgusted face. “For how long?”

“It’ll take me a day or two to go through this, but I’ll see what I can find. Time is our enemy now.”

Leaning forward, I dig out my wallet and take out a twenty. “What if we talk to the driver?”

We stand together, and Ian scrunches up his face. “Dirk Underwood?”

“That’s right.” Reaching out, I hold the glass door for him to exit. “If he grows a conscience and confesses, that’s how I’ll get justice here.”

“Won’t happen.” My friend puts a toothpick in the side of his mouth. “Those guys have too much to lose to turn whistle blower. If he doesn’t own his own truck, if he’s completely in their pocket, which it sounds like he must be for them to be able to push him into jeopardizing his license, I’d stay far away from him. You’ll only tip them off.”

“Shit,” I mutter, stopping in front of The Beast.

Ian starts to laugh. “I’d say the same if I were driving that thing. What happened to your Audi?”

Looking up, I smile in spite of myself. “This old heap feels more like home.”

“Take it easy, Jack. Work on something else for a few days. I’ll have something for you this week one way or the other.”

Driving back to my condo, Ember is heavy on my mind. This sexual assault thing would kill her. Even if we weren’t together at the time, I never want her to think of me that way. Sexual assault… My insides go cold. An accusation of that magnitude threatens my ability to be around Coco.

“We have to get to the truth,” I say to myself.

Running back through everything we said at the coffee shop, I decide to track down Tiffany. I don’t know how they convinced her to lie, but she and I were friends. I’ve got to appeal to her better nature.

The sun is dipping low when I arrive at my former home. I pull into the parking garage right next to my Audi. It’s locked and secured, but I put The Beast’s keys in the visor before heading for the elevator. Memories of living here, of keeping up with the single life, dating women whose names I don’t even remember… Tiffany on her knees in front of me in the dark, giggling as she unfastened my belt…

All of the lies and the pretension, the fakery and pretending to be something you’re not—it all disgusts me now and has me reaching in my pocket for my phone. I need to tell Ember what’s happening, just on the remote chance it somehow gets back to her.

I swipe my card and hit the button for the top floor. My phone is in my hand, and I watch for the bars saying I have reception. A soft ding, and the doors slide open at the penthouse suite. I step into the open lobby ready to hit the call button when my phone starts going off in my hand.

The lights are out. I’m in total darkness as I read the face. Two missed calls from Emberly followed by a brief text.

My pulse spikes, and I fly back into the small box rapidly pressing the button for the garage as I read her words.

I need you! It’s Coco! Please come home now—hurry!