Emery nuzzles her head into my chest, relaxing against my touch. “I knew you’d understand my message. I knew you’dfigure it out,” she whispers. After a beat, she tips her head up, her curious gaze flitting across my face. “You’ve said the word ‘we’ a lot.” She absentmindedly bites her bottom lip, processing its meaning. “I can’t say I expected to see both of you today. I mean…” Her cheeks flush just a tad. “I hoped I would, but I…” She swallows. “I don’t understand.”
My spine stiffens. I don’t know how to explain something to her I also don’t fully comprehend. She wants answers, and yet I don’t have anything concrete to offer. These past few days, Damon and I have had a silent understanding. Our priority was clear. Save Emery. That was it. That was the mission. What happens next? What happens after? Those are questions we never posed, we never discussed.
All I know is that she is ours. Not mine. Not his. But ours. I can hear it when she talks. I can feel it on her skin. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at us. There’s no champion. There’s no victor. There are only two men. Each with a piece of her heart. What she chooses to do with those pieces is ultimately up to her.
“I love you, darling,” I whisper, stroking the wet strands of her auburn hair. I expect her to flinch, to squirm at the proclamation, but she simply releases a long breath as if she’s been holding it since the day she was born. “And Damon loves you too,” I add. This gets a reaction. Her brows knit together, and I offer her a sweet, gentle smile. “We belong to you, Emery Jones. It’s as simple as that.”
She swallows, unsure and tentative. “The way I’ve treated you both… I don’t know if I deserve your love. I…” She closes her eyes. “I was quite cruel. I was?—”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” I say, tightening my hold on her. “It’s our fault, Emery. Not yours.” She releases a small breath of relief as she glances up at me. “We… We won’t make you decide. We won’t make you choose.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “But you and Damon… You?—”
“We will do anything to make you happy, darling,” I say, biting my tongue. I shouldn’t speak for him. But I know he’d agree. “That includes putting our differences aside. Look at me, Emery.” Her ivy-green eyes slice through all my fear, and I want nothing more than to live in those irises forever. “We love you, and everything else, we’ll figure out later.” I pause, kissing her forehead. “Together.”
“Ahem,” Damon clears his throat, semi-glaring down at us, his stare nowhere near as venomous as before. He’ll have to work on it. Sharing. He’s a novice. Not familiar with the word. “I hate to interrupt such a tender moment, but we’ve got a problem.”
My spine stiffens. “What?”
Damon hesitates for a moment, glimpsing at Emery with caution. “They found the house.” Emery winces. “It was empty.”
THE FRAGILE FLOWER
EMERY
“This is a major problem, Damon,”Quin grunts, pacing in front of the drawn-open blinds of my hospital room. “Those lunatics are still out there and you expect us to do nothing?”
Damon releases a frustrated sigh. They’ve been going in circles for almost an hour. EvenI’mgetting annoyed.
“I didn’t say that we should donothing, Quinton. I said that contacting the police is useless and a waste of our time.”
“Useless?” Quin scoffs. “They kidnapped Emery, extorted us for literal billions, and magically escaped unseen. I think we’re idiots for not reaching out to law enforcement as soon as Emery was secure and safe.”
“Yeah?” Damon crosses his arms. “And which law enforcement agency would we contact, huh? Emery was taken in Switzerland, brought to Italy, and now we’re in England. Oh, and apparently, they’re based in New York! This is a jurisdictional nightmare and you know it. Plus, given that we’ve still got our funds fully intact, I think we’ll have much better luck tracking these fuckers on our own. We don’t have time for redtape and bureaucratic nonsense, Quinton. I say we outsource to an independent contractor.”
“And then what?” Quin asks, raising a speculative brow. “What do you propose we do after we track them down?”
Damon’s expression turns ice cold. “What do you think?”
Quin blinks. “You have got to be kidding me, Cavanaugh. That’s your bright idea? Track them down and kill them? Just like that?” He expels an incredulous scoff. “I am not going to murder two fucking women, Damon. How is that even an option to you?! You’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
Damon shrugs. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep Emery safe. Nothing is off-limits, Quinton. Nothing.”
Quin pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. I’m rather shocked by Damon’s laissez-faire approach to murder, and I can’t say that I’m on board. Am I afraid that Toni and Simone will come after me? Yes. Do I think I’ve sparked something in Toni that would make her hell-bent on revenge? Yes. But do I want her to die? No. No, I don’t.
“If we call Vivienne,” Quin begins, and I inwardly scowl.
I have no right to be upset with him. Or with Damon for that matter. It appears we’ve all done what we needed to do in order to achieve our goals in the last five days. But still… That manipulative bitch.As if you’re any better.Hush.
Quin continues, “If we call her and tell her to file a report with Interpol then at least there will be units around the world on lookout, and we can sleep a little more soundly.”
“We’ll sleep just fine in the safe house,” Damon retorts, refusing to bow down. “We’ll stay there, off the radar, until those bitches are found.”
“A safe house?” Quin asks, pursing his lips. “So, you’re suggesting we hide?”
Damon glares at him. “I’m suggesting that we take precautions. Once you agree to my plan, I’ll go ahead andprocure the safe house. Only the three of us will know its location, not even the contractors will know its coordinates. We can’t risk having anyone’s phone being tapped or hacked.”
“I’m not going to?—”
