My racing heart splits at thoughts of how upset my girlfriend will be right now. How Maria will have cornered her away from Freya so she could have her say.
“I need to get to Billie,” I whisper out loud, not waiting for Scott to address my previous question.
Seething eyes bore into mine. “Over my dead body. You’ll never breathe the same air as my Billie and Blake, never mind get a chance in the same room.”
“Whoa!” Jack lurches forward, but it’s in vain as another blow lands into the pit of my stomach.
Stepping back, I’m sure Scott expects me to double over in pain. Little does he know, he already delivered his best shot, wrapped inside the last words he uttered.
“Never a-fucking-gain!” he spits, already backing toward his car.
When he yanks open the driver’s door, he pauses. “And don’t bother swinging by her apartment. I’m using the last of your money to move her out as we speak.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
EMMETT
What’s left of my heart urges me to take a left out of the parking lot and head straight to Billie and Blake. Even if Scott wouldn’t allow me on the premises, I know my girl wouldn’t let her dad call the shots and prohibit his only daughter from seeing me.
She’s twenty-one, for fuck’s sake.
With my Aston Martin idling and my brain spinning out, a sharp knock on my passenger window jumps me back to reality.
Sawyer motions for me to lower my window.
“That’s the second time I’ve scared the shit out of you.” He chuckles, face immediately turning serious when he takes me in.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, absentmindedly staring out of the windshield.
Sawyer hesitates before confirming, “Felt like a skate and knew the practice rink had a free slot.”
“Maria outed me and Billie to Scott.”
When I turn to look at him fully, he practically falls backward as he takes in my face, blood still seeping from the cut on my cheek.
He tries the door handle, but I don’t bother to unlock it. Other than Billie, there’s only one person I want to talk to right now.
“Talk to me, Emmett,” he pleads, trying the handle once more.
I shake my head, back to staring out of the windshield. “I love you, man, and I always come to you when I need advice. But on this occasion, even your wisdom can’t repair the fucked-up situation.”
Dropping his head between his shoulders, Sawyer exhales a slow breath into the morning air. “Have you tried to call Billie?”
“Yeah,” I reply, the taste of acid still burning my mouth. “Picked up a voicemail she sent a half hour ago and tried to call her back. I’m not getting an answer right now.”
Sawyer’s brows knit together. “Why isn’t she picking up?”
I slam my hand into the steering wheel. “How the fuck should I know?!”
He doesn’t deserve my wrath. Truthfully, I should be pointing all the blame internally. If I hadn’t taken so long to tell Scott and Freya, then Maria never would’ve gotten the chance to fuck everything up. Billie and I were already battling the odds.
Offering my friend an apologetic glance, I shrug my shoulders, hopelessness settling over me. “The last thing Scott told me before he sped off was that he was moving her and Blake out of the apartment and, I assume, back home. My best guess is, he’s confiscated her phone, thinking that he’s doing her a favor and protecting her from me.”
My former captain only looks more confused. “Listen, I get why Scott is mad over all of this, but …” He swipes a thoughtful hand across his jaw. “Why would he see you as a danger to Billie and Blake? You’ve been close friends for years.”
The rain begins to fall again, and I open the passenger door, allowing Sawyer to climb in.
Squeezing his huge frame and training bag into the seat, he makes an appreciative face at the classic car he’s never ridden inbefore. Over the past few weeks, I’ve driven this car way more than I normally would; each time I sit in it, the smell of nutmeg and the image of Billie’s happy face as we drove the country roads fill my senses. I haven’t had the chance to see her and Blake nearly as much as I want, and if Scott has his way, I’ll never set eyes on them again.
