Every ounce of my control goes toward not activating the gut punch of sensations I feel when I allow my mind to wander backto the events of Friday night. My nerves have been on edge, waiting for a knock at the door from law enforcement, but that has yet to happen. If I am truly honest with myself, I doubt it will.
I am entirely confident that Xavier killed Tray and ordered a clean-up crew to make it all go away.
The only people who know the truth of the situation are the men on the other side of my door and two college-aged girls, one of whom I hurt deeply. If there was ever any doubt about whether our contract was only a form of employment to her and she didn’t care for us, it was shattered by the time the elevator doors closed between us, the crushed and broken girl on the other side.
It is inconceivable that that was only two nights ago.
I will never forget the wrath-filled glare she aimed directly at me as she saidred. She blamed me, and I can’t deny her that blame. I am the one at fault. I drove this car off the proverbial cliff.
And as much as I have been trying to reduce the problem into a defined box, with labels and justifications, I know it’s not as simple as duct-taping the lid shut. No amount of rationalization is going to erase the fact that we all played a part in this new wave of trauma Emery will have to live with for the rest of her life or the fact that we were party to the murder of another human.
I fucked this up for all of us, and I know that. And I have zero intention of hiding from that fact. This is something I will have to carry with me for the rest of my life. All I can do now is find a path forward that will hopefully cross paths with Emery’s again.
I’m going to fix this little family of mine. But first, I need to see to my friends and make sure our unit is not fractured beyond repair.
Forcing a neutral expression on my face, I stride to the front door and open it, shoving my sudden nerves back behind the curtain.
Darcy, Hudson, and Xavier are all there. The general air about the three of them is less than jovial. Their somber moods echo my own, but I am hoping that the reason for calling them here tonight will help to alleviate some of their darkness.
“Come in,” I offer as I hold the wooden door open and make space for them to pass.
Each of them enters, barely making eye contact with me, and I shut the door on the cool evening air.
“Something smells good,” Darcy comments as he leads the way back into the main living area.
“I’ve got marinated spareribs and roasted vegetables in the oven. Enough for all of us, if you choose to stay for dinner,” I reply, heading over to the wet bar and getting everyone their usual drinks. I have a feeling more than one will be consumed by the end of the night. “Take a seat.”
Once everyone is settled on my couches with their drinks, I glance around at them and feel a surge of hope that they’ll hear me out, since they have already done the minimum by simply showing up. We aren’t completely broken, even though contact has been minimal. The group chat has only been a series of trade-off messages for shifts in the hospital waiting room in case Emery changes her mind about letting us into her room.
Hudson lowers his beer bottle to rest on his knee. “Why have you summoned us?”
This is the first time we’ve left her at the hospital on her own, not that she would know that. And besides, Marie—Emery’s primary nurse—is keeping tabs on her for me. She isn’t sharing a great deal of information, just letting us know when there has been an improvement in Emery’s condition.
Fortunately for us, Marie was working the front desk at Obsession on Friday night and saw everything that happened by the elevator. She was with her Dom, David, when we were all handed our asses by our girl. Hudson pulled the necessary strings to have Marie assigned to Emery’s care the moment her Saturday shift started.
Marie was the one to tell us Emery requested Oakley be called, and not one of us, as her emergency contact. I was able to push down the hurt at the time, but once Oakley disappeared through the Emergency Department doors, I’d needed to get some fresh air.
I needed space, and they all clearly needed it, too, because not long after I exited the hospital, so had the others, the four of us taking up sentry across the parking lot with as much distance between us as we could manage.
But that was all ending tonight.
I have a plan to close that space and get us back on track with Emery, if they are willing to hear it.
Clearing my throat, I adjust in my seat so that I sit on the edge and brace my elbows on my knees, holding my tumbler of scotch loosely in front of me. My chest aches as I force words out of my mouth.
“First, I’d like to apologize—”
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
I snap my head up at Darcy’s harsh tone. I’m shocked by the sheer level of rage contorting his features as he glares back at me. “I—”
“You are a pompous, fucking arrogant asshole, do you know that?” His relaxed body language belies the harshness of his tone. “You don’t get to be the one to claim all the blame for this. This is our fucking mess. A mess we all agreed to. We all did this. So, if you are going to sit there and spout some bullshit about how this is all your fault and you are going to martyr yourself sowe can all be with Emmy again, you can go and stuff that shit right up your ass.”
A vise closes around my throat, and I’m unable to get any words out as Hudson nods.
“And Emery being taken and then ending up in the hospital is not our fault, not even under the most unreasonable conditions,” he states, taking over for Darcy, as if he believes that by stating it out loud, it will be true. “She should have been safe returning to her dorm room. I can only assume she herself felt safe returning there, because why wouldn’t she? Don’t get the two situations mixed up. It is unfortunate that Tray raised his ugly fucking head the same night that things went pear-shaped with Emery, but there is no line of relation between the two events. They should have happened separately, or rather, not at all.”
I break eye contact with Hudson and focus on the ice cube in my glass. The only part of his statements I can agree with are the last three words.
