Sam tucks his hands in his pants pockets. “You need my help, because Emily hasn’t exactly been one hundred percent truthful.”
I hate that he’s right. “I fucking knew she was leaving some shit out.” On one level, I can’t blame her. I do play for her old man. But I hate that she doesn’t trust me enough to fully confide in me. I thought we’d made some progress the other morning. We fucking agreed to be friends, and friends lean on one another. A pang of hurt clutches at my chest like a vise, but this isn’t about me. I’ve got to push my feelings away. She agreed to let me help her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do
* * *
I couldn’t sleeplast night. After Sam told me about the video and the email, I tossed and turned all night. Images of Zack and that other asshole fucking Emily tormented me for hours. I wish I’d never seen it, and it’ll take colossal effort on my part to forget about it. But the fact is, it’s before I knew her. I might be mad that she’s totally wasted, but it was still consensual. No one was forcing her into it. And we’ve all got history. I need to put it out of my mind. Especially when the more pressing concern is Wes’s imminent plans for Emily.
I was itching to ask Ray if I could borrow one of his guns and kill the fucker. The only reason I didn’t was Sam. He wants to find as much evidence as he can to put Wes away for a long time. I have to agree. Killing the fucker would be too easy, and a guy like Wes needs to rot in some hellhole for the rest of his life. But first, I need to stop Emily from meeting him tonight.
Sam, Carter, and I are waiting on Zach one block from the hotel where Emily is shortly due to meet Wes. The plan is to confront him before Emily arrives. We have one hour before the big meet, and it needs to go smoothly.
I enlisted Carter because he’s got the muscle, and I trust him. He was on board the minute I told him I wanted to screw over Weston Blakely. He didn’t ask what it was about, and I didn’t offer more than the bare minimum. Emily is clearly terrified of her parents finding out about her lifestyle, and it’s not my secret to share.
I brought Zach into the fold since he’s Emily’s friend and he’s already tried to defend her from Wes, so I figured he’d want to help. As much as I want to beat the ever-loving shit out of him for fucking the girl I’m into, I’ve shelved my personal feelings. There is safety in numbers, and we need him.
It’s as simple as that.
But after tonight, I’m not selling to him anymore. I can’t have him feeding Emily’s habit, and I want to be a true friend to her and help her kick the habit before she ends up in a dark place she can’t come back from.
He’ll be pissed, but I don’t give a fuck.
Ray will be too. Again, I don’t give a fuck.
After this is all over, I need to quit the drug-dealing business. I can’t ask Emily to stop taking the shit when I’m selling Molly to Zach who feeds it to her. I know they can find drugs elsewhere, but it won’t be from me.
And I’m determined to do everything I can to help Emily clean up her act.
“How many times did you call Emily?” I ask Sam as I scan the busy street of people window-shopping in a touristy part of the city.
“I left her several messages to call you or me,” Sam says.
My cell was off during the game, but I’d checked it the second I hit the locker room, disappointed there was no missed call from her. She’s avoiding me, and that makes me uneasy.
The game was a complete blowout. We lost big.
I played like shit. I got sacked three times because I hesitated, which is unlike me. I had two interceptions. If the Bears were watching, I’m sure they aren’t interested in signing me anymore.
I couldn’t look Coach Parker in the eye when he yelled his head off at me after the game. I apologized, but he didn’t want to hear it. If he knew where my mind was at, he’d probably be hugging the shit out of me and giving me a fucking medal.
But after Emily told me about her parents believing Wes more than her with that incident at the fundraiser, I didn’t see a point in telling Coach. Anyway, I can’t. Not unless I want to lose her from my life permanently.
My pulse is on overdrive as I keep checking the time. “Where the fuck is Zach?”
Carter slaps me on the arm and flicks his head at the traffic light at the corner.
I spot Zach strutting up, hands in his pockets, hair styled perfectly, clothes neatly pressed as if he’s headed to one of the many clubs in the city. “Did you get ahold of Emily? Because I didn’t.”
Instead of answering him, I ram my fist into his nose. Can’t help it. Just looking at his face sets me off, knowing what I know. “What the fuck, man?” He holds his nose as blood oozes out.
“Hoss,” Carter warns. “Save it for that asshole.”
“This is a bad idea,” Sam mutters, regarding me with concern.
I rub my stinging knuckles, leveling Zach with a glare. “That’s for not looking out for Emily.” Zach wasn’t aware of the video, until we spoke over the phone, and I filled him in. Although, he did know Wes was blackmailing her, courtesy of Scarlett. Zach shared news of Wes’s past. Something which made me almost hurl up my lunch. Wes is far more evil than I’ve given him credit for. I shudder to think what would’ve happened to Emily if Sam hadn’t discovered that email, and hadn’t uncovered the evidence proving how much of a lowlife Blakely is.
“I’m doing my fucking best,” Zach snaps. “And I’m here, aren’t I?”
I want to confront him about the things I know, but this isn’t the time or the place. I walk a few paces to blow off some steam. “Did you go by her house?” I ask Zach.
