“There’s a flight departing in an hour to JFK,” I say. “She might be on it. We should leave now. If we leave now, we can catch her.”
Damon scoffs. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Quinton. You’re gonnachaseher? You’re going to chase her like I did?” My teeth clench at the comparison, but he’s not wrong. “I chased her, Quinton. I found her here, didn’t I? And what happened? She ran all over again.” Another scoff. “She says she loves us.She loves us?But then she runs?Runs away?It’s all lies, Quinton. It’s all?—”
My shoulders tense. “She said she loves us?” The air in the room vanishes. “She said that?”
Damon nods. “Yup. Fucked, huh?”
Damn it, Emery. Why didn’t you just stay? We could have found a solution. We could have worked it out.
“It’s complicated,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “It’s?—”
“What does that even mean?!” Damon growls, slamming his hand on the mattress. “Complicated? She kept saying that. It’s complicated, complicated, complicated. I know I fucked up! I know I should’ve told her about the accident, but I’m human too! I made a mistake.” His voice peters out into a low whimper, eyes closing. “I made a mistake.”
I look at his disheveled appearance, the torment so deeply rooted in his eyes. A pang of guilt courses through me. He doesn't know the full truth. That he took a life, that his mistakeon that fateful night is the reason Emery is still alive today. He doesn't know, and I can't tell him. Just as Emery can't. If he knew he killed someone, let alone Alison, it would eat him alive…one organ at a time.
My gut twists.
It was an accident. It took me years to accept that. To forgive him. He would never have hurt Alison on purpose. He values his soul, but his demons won that night. They win often. But if he knew the truth, it would shatter him, and I can't bear to be the one to inflict that kind of pain on someone, even after all we've been through.
"Damon," I take a short, labored breath. "Some things that are better left in the dark. You don't need to know everything."
His bloodshot eyes search mine for answers, for the truth. "What does that even mean?! What thehellare you talking about?"
I swallow. "This hurts me to say, Damon, but I truly believe that Emery loves you. And we need to go find her." I make a decision, perhaps foolish and lacking logic, but it’s all I can do. I type out a text. "The chopper’s ready when we are, Damon. We need to leave.”
Damon looks at me, frowning. "Together? We’re going to find her…together?”
I meet his wary gaze. “I can go alone if you want. But I think you should fight, too, Damon. And trust me, I’m not saying that for my benefit. I’m saying it for hers.”
He remains silent for several beats, staring off into the distance, and then he stands up, expression tight as he mutters, “Let’s go.”
As we walk to the helipad, my mind spins. We need to come up with a plan. What do we say? What do we propose? I glance at Damon, his expression unreadable. I need him to be sober. I need his help. I hate it but I do.
When we reach the helicopter, my pocket vibrates. I frown and pull out my satellite phone. The message on the screen is from an unknown number. The same number that had texted me when we were on the jet on the way to Geneva.
My frown deepens.
Damon’s standing right beside me, his hands nowhere near a cell phone.
It wasn’t him. It wasn’t?—
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as I read the text, and click on the image attached to the message.
“Damon.” Terror blurs my vision as I turn the phone in his direction. “She didn’t leave.”
Damon’s face pales as he reads the text.
Missing something, Dr. Marquis? If you call the authorities or alert anyone, your precious Emery will end up in a river just like Vincent. My instructions will follow. Until then, sit in your fear. Like I did.
And then he sees the photo of Emery.
Bleeding. Bruised. Tied up. Gagged.
All the alcohol in his bloodstream seems to metabolize in seconds.
With both hands curled around my collar, Damon growls, spit flying into my face. “What thefuckdid you do?!”
THE ASTRONOMICAL SUM
