Nicholas
I’ve been home now for more than four hours. I fully intended to tell her first thing about the events of the morning, but when I entered to find her in the kitchen with nothing but a towel that barely covered her body as my mother stood between us, that plan failed.
Now with each passing hour, I find it is even harder to bring it up. Her smile is bright, her mood playful, and I don’t want to ruin that. When she is like this, so relaxed, and at peace, I hate to be the reason it fades. She’s had enough shit in her life and the information I held would only add to that heaping pile.
I sit on the couch, pretending to watch what is on television but I have no idea. Instead, I watch her as she moves around my kitchen like it is her own. I love how comfortable she’s become over the last few days. As far as I am concerned, this is just as much her home as it is my own.
The scent of something cooking fills the air and faint sizzling sounds can be heard. She pauses just long enough to take a sip of her wine before once again getting back to the task at hand.
My knee bounces, my hand holds my beer just a little tighter, and just as I am about to stand up and go to her, the phone I had added to my own plan and gave her rings. She reaches back and swipes her finger across the screen as she pins the phone between her shoulder and cheek.
I can’t hear what she is saying but from the way her shoulders tense, and she turns around to face me as her phone slips from her shoulder just before falling to the floor, I understand that she already knows before I even get the chance to tell her.
I move quickly, clearing the coffee table with one swift move and am at her side within seconds.
“Is it true?”
I can already feel my palms sweating.
“Did my father do it?” Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “Gia said it’s on the news. Did he kill that woman?”
“Yes,” I confirm just as her body grows weak and I reach out to support her weight. I move her toward the table and help her sit in a chair as I kneel before her on the floor.
“How long have you known?”
I swallow hard. “This morning.” Hurt flares in her eyes. “I planned to tell you when I got home, but with my mom and then—”
“She’s been gone for over four hours, Nic, so what’s stopped you since then?”
I understand she is reflecting her anger onto me and I am fully prepared to accept it. She is right; I should have told her the second I entered the bedroom after saying goodbye to my mom.
“I was afraid,” I confess. “I had no idea how to tell you that your father was capable of something like this. I know he’s an ass, Emerson, and that he’s done a lot of wrong in his life, but he’s still your father. The last thing I wanted was to be telling you that he was responsible for something of this magnitude.”
I can sense she still wants to be angry at me, but I also see that anger slipping. It is almost a battle of rage and sadness taking place in her eyes, and she isn’t sure if she should cry or scream.
“That woman…” she finally says, more like cries the words, “…she didn’t deserve what he—”
I watch as her shoulders began to shift as she tries her best to hold back her sobs. “Oh my God!” She lunges forward, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as she buries her face in my chest.
“I’m so sorry baby.” I am. I hate her tears; they kill me. I have no idea how to console her or make this ache go away. Instead I hold her close as she falls apart.
* * *
“How did they retrieve the tapes?” Emerson asks as she looks up at me. She lies on her back, me on my side, my head propped up by my arm as I look down at her. Her nose is red, her eyes are swollen, and those gorgeous lips of hers are puffy. She’d fallen apart and grew angry once more for all the years her father had stolen from her. I’m sure that deep down part of her still loved that man.
He is a monster, I agree with her, but he is her father. She can forget him, choose to ignore that he is even alive, but the fact remains he is partly responsible for her being at my side.
“Peter Hogue was paid a million dollars to hide the evidence.” I shouldn’t be telling her the things I learned this morning, but I couldn’t stop myself. I want her to heal, and I’d do anything to help her do that, even if it means giving her every morbid detail. “Your father said he’d fired Peter for his inappropriate behavior, but the truth is that he had to create that story so letting go of the head of security didn’t seem out of place.”
Emerson looks up at me, her eyes glossy with unshed tears that once again begin to pool.
“Peter was supposed to destroy the tapes and take the money. But what your father didn’t take into account was that Peter understood how he could one day be considered a risk and end up just like the woman in the hotel. So he made copies, which he was starting to use as leverage to ensure his safety.”
“What do you mean?”
I reach out and push away the hair that covers her forehead as I press a kiss to her temple. My heart breaks for her and I want to heal her. I want to take all the pain and ugliness away and fill that space with nothing but happiness. I want to give her the life she deserves.
“He was bribing your father with threats to release the footage.”
Emerson’s eyes widen.
“But your father had no idea that the man he hired to replace Peter was an undercover cop.” I had known this was a possibility, but it was something that took place after I was removed from the case. “He intercepted an email that gave explicit information in regard to your father's involvement and that’s all it took. We found Peter holed up in some condo and arrested him. Once he was in handcuffs, he caved and handed over the footage.”
“Why did he do it?” A tear runs over her cheek as she quickly wipes it away. “Why did he kill that woman?”
“Em, I don’t think you should know everything, sweetheart.”
“But I need to,” she takes in a deep breath, “please.”
“The controlling man you knew, the one that insisted all things go his way all the time…” She nods, understanding the description I’d just given of her father. “It would seem that same behavior is also one he practiced behind closed doors. He took things too far, and after that, there was no going back for him.”
“So she was his mistress?”
“No.” It is my turn to take in a deep breath. “Silvia Quentes was a prostitute your father called on often. She, among a few other girls, were well aware of your father's demands.”
She closes her eyes tightly, her lips press in a tight line, and her nostrils flare.
“I want to say that him being unfaithful surprises me, but it doesn’t.” She opens her eyes and looks back at me. “I’ve witnessed the signs of his infidelity for years, and so has my mother but she never said a word. As long as the money kept coming and the parties flowed, she was happy. Now it would seem that she’ll have his riches and be free of him. All these years she put up with him, the mental abuse, that ongoing dismissal.” Em takes another deep breath. “I don’t know if that makes her smart or really stupid.”
We both remain silent for a few minutes, just taking it all in. In the beginning of the investigation, I somehow felt her father had something to do with it. But I always thought he was protecting someone, a friend or someone in a position of authority that he’d someday need a favor from. But I never thought, in the end, he would be the one behind bars for murder. I am torn between feeling pleased, knowing he’ll be out of our lives forever, and saddened because this is just another obstacle Emerson will be forced to face.
“What do you need from me, Em?” She turns her head back toward me and looks up. “Tell me what I can do, what I can say.”
“I just want it all to go away.” She keeps her eyes locked on mine. “Over the last few days, before this news, I’ve been happier than I can ever remember. I don’t want anything from her, or him, I only want you.” Emerson lifts her hand to cup my cheek, and I lean into her touch. “As far as I’m concerned, they don’t exist.”
“There’s only one trace of them left in your life.” I turn my face to kiss her palm. “And if I have it my way, that will be gone soon too."
When my eyes meet hers again, I can see the questioning look in them. “Emerson Vaughn has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Recognition dawns on her as her lips turn upward into a smile. “Soon, but for now, I think we should just state that you do live here with me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I lean in and press a kiss to her lips. “There is no way in hell I am ever letting you go. I knew from the start that you were gonna be mine."
“So cocky,” she says against my lips. “The truth is, I think I knew it too.”