“I like to get away from this stupid lifestyle sometimes.” He shrugs. “I’ll track him down. Since he faked his death, it’ll be easy to find him.”
“How?”
“Because he’ll leave a trail. No one’s looking for him.”
I carry Lilac back to the car and sit with her in the back seat. She cries into my shirt, speaking incoherently.
My hands curl into fists.
When I get my hands on Emerson, I’m going to gut him like a fish.
Lilac
We’re at the cabin Jameson owns. Irvin bathes me. The fresh clothes feel heavy on my skin. I wrap my arms around my legs and rock back and forth, staring blankly at nothing.
I hear Jameson’s and Irvin’s voices. Then I hear the wordEmerson. My hands go numb. Bile rises in my throat. How long have we been here? It doesn’t matter. It’s that word again.
“I found him,” Jameson says.
My heart pounds.
“He’s somewhere in a warehouse outside the city limits. I tracked him through traffic lights from your mansion when he took Lilac.”
I study Irvin’s movements as he loads a gun and an axe. He smiles—takes delight in the idea of killing Emerson. His words become muffled, time slowing like sticky syrup. I smile too.
Emerson’s voice rings in my ears, calling me his little sapphire. I see his hand stroking my face. Kissing me. Iron fills my nostrils. Blood is on the wall. Bile rises again. I swallow hard.
Irvin places his hands on my shoulders, leans down, then presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Are you okay, my Lilac?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? You look out of it.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to ride with us to kill Emerson? Or do you want to stay here, where it’s safer?”
I blink but don’t respond.
Jameson walks inside with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey, beauty. Are you okay?”
Metallic rot lingers in the air.
I stare at him. He looks at Irvin. Irvin’s nose crinkles.
“She’ll ride with us.”
“Are you sure? She doesn’t look okay,” Jameson says.
“Yeah. I want her near me. She shouldn’t be alone.”
Irvin picks me up, carries me to the SUV, and slides into the back seat, pulling me into his arms. Jameson gets into the driver’s seat. They speak, but I can’t make out the words.
Run. Choose. Mine.
We arrive at a warehouse.
