“We know,” Reeve had said.
I’d let him hold me for a few minutes longer before I’d gotten over enough of the shock to remember that I didn’t want to have anything to do with Reeve. Then I’d pushed him away and excused myself, running to my room, where I’d locked my door and thrown myself on the bed and cried until I was dry.
Chris’s death had a numbing effect on me. It was as though I’d found the eye of the storm, the cyclone of emotions that had hit me still present and around me – but calm for the moment. It felt like I was moving through slow motion. My thoughts took effort. All I could concentrate on was one step at a time – first, pack my bags.
After an hour, and a break to shower and dress, I zipped up my suitcase and looked at the clock. It was half past six, but the ranch woke early and I could already hear activity below me. Joe and I hadn’t discussed what time we were leaving. Hoping it would be sooner rather than later, I carried my things downstairs and left them in the hall while I set out to find him.
Joe’s room was on the main floor and, to get to it, I had to cross through the den. Usually this part of the house was empty, but, despite the hour, I heard voices as I rounded the corner. Reeve’s voice, specifically. I didn’t want to see him, so I started to turn, but then I heard Joe.
“Is the house part of the resort?” he was asking.
“No, it’s on the opposite side of the island,” Reeve answered. “A five-mile walk along the shore. There’s also a wall around the perimeter of the resort to discourage guests from wandering.”
The conversation wasn’t necessarily friendly, but it was more than I thought Reeve would share with Joe after the night before. I slipped into the back of the room quietly and discovered Amber and Brent were there as well. Amber was still dressed in pajamas, curled up on the couch with her feet underneath her. Joe sat away from her on the opposite end. Reeve was sitting on the coffee table directing his talk to both of them.
Brent stood off to the side, seemingly an observer like I was. He nodded when he saw me, drawing Amber to peer back at me. Reeve followed her line of vision and his gaze slammed into mine. An electric jolt ran through my body, like a cable trying to jump-start a car. I was numb, I was void, but Reeve could get me running. If I let him.
I refused to let him.
Unable to look at him for long, I pinned my focus on Amber. “What’s going on?”
She leaned her arm on the back of the sofa. “We’re going to Reeve’s island for a while. It’s safer there and it will give his men time to work things out with Micha.”
So they were going somewhere too. Good time for me to leave, then.
Though, it didn’t feel good. It felt far from.
I forced a small smile. “I think that’s smart. I’m really worried about you after…” After the dog, after meeting Vilanakis, after Chris Blakely. I couldn’t say Chris’s name without spiraling into anxious, guilt-ridden grief. “Well, yesterday.”
She reached up and gave my hand a squeeze. “I heard about your friend. I’m so sorry, Em. I don’t know what to say.”
When I’d thought Amber had died, I’d felt deep, gut-wrenching sorrow. I hadn’t been close enough to Chris for that, but I was still sad. And I blamed myself for stirring up suspicions he’d long put to rest. If I hadn’t brought up questions about the past, would he have started blabbing about Missy to the press? Would he have ever made the mob connection?
I shook the thought away. “It’s okay. I don’t know what to say either. Except, stay safe. If going to the resort is how Reeve thinks you’ll be best protected, listen to him.” I meant what’d I’d said, but I didn’t want to think about the efforts Reeve was going to in order to keep her from Michelis. And I was still upset that he wouldn’t agree to talk to his uncle, even though he was convinced it was hopeless.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to planning.” I hadn’t told Amber yet about my plans to go. This wasn’t how I’d wanted her to find out, but I needed to make sure others knew I was still firm in my decision. “I just stopped in to ask – what time are you thinking we’ll leave, Joe?”
Though my eyes were directly on Joe, I was ever aware of Reeve in my periphery, ready for his protest. Part of me wanted that – wanted him to fight for me to stay, even though I’d told him not to.
But if he didn’t, if he planned to just let me go, it would break my heart a little.
It would break my heart a lot.
Joe didn’t answer me. Instead, he looked to Reeve as if asking for guidance. Reeve responded by shooting a look at Amber, a look that I knew and understood as though it spoke in a language that had been scratched on my bones at birth. The look told Amber to do something – something that they must have previously discussed. And the look she gave him in return was the one I was most familiar with – it was a look of acquiescence.
“I need to make arrangements,” Reeve said. He stood and left the room with Brent in tow.
Exhaustion fell over me like a curtain. I knew what was coming and, in some hidden remote place inside where I was still capable of strong emotions, I was outraged and on guard. This was not how I wanted him to fight for me. It wasn’t what I wanted at all.
But mostly I was just tired. Tired of fighting and hurting and loving. Tired of always needing to please.
Amber watched as Reeve left the room then smiled in my direction. “Come sit by me.”
She hadn’t even blinked when I said I was leaving. She’d already known. Of course she’d already known.