Lie to Me

by McAdams, Molly

  “I want to find every one of them and put them in the ground.” The declaration was said so low, I wasn’t sure Reed meant to say it out loud at all. He lifted his head, grief and wrath lining his face. “Emma, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for what you went through and what happened to you. I’m sorry you had people who hurt you instead of helped you. I’m sorry they stole pieces of you until you were forced to harden and bury the rest. If I could, I would take it all away. If I could, I would make every one of those pieces of shit pay.”

  “I know.”

  “Lala . . . she said something the other day,” he murmured, his head slanting subtly. “Said she couldn’t imagine what had to have happened to bring you back to her.” His eyes searched mine, silently vowing to somehow fix this. “This happen again? Recently?”

  I sucked in a stilted breath, my head feeling all kinds of light as those wraiths swarmed me.

  Wrapped their arms around me.

  Held tight as their icy fingers trailed over my mind and down my spine.

  “Different,” I managed to say through my thin breaths.

  I’d been saved before anything could truly happen. Yet, somehow, it’d been worse because it had been entirely unexpected. Because I’d foolishly thought I’d been respected by the person I worked for. Because, for once, I hadn’t been Joslin Wade’s daughter.

  No dirty life surrounding me, bringing the foulest people and expectations.

  I’d just been me.

  I’d just been Emma.

  Worse, because part of it was here, surrounded by the people I cared for and who cared for my family.

  I moved to the couch, not sure how much longer I’d be able to stay standing, and sank heavily to it as I began telling Reed everything.

  From when my mother took off for the last time to saving up to move and working my way up in Manhattan. How I’d fallen in love with the city and my job and how it’d felt like I found the life I was always meant to have. All up until that last night.

  Cutting myself open wide and baring my soul in the most terrifying display of trust I’d ever made.

  “They were laughing as they fought over who was going to go second and third and so on,” I said, jaw shaking fiercely as I revealed that night.

  Reed looked like he was made of stone as he listened.

  Stare vacant. Every muscle tensed beneath his tattoos. One arm folded over his chest. The inked fingers of his other hand clenched into a tight fist against his mouth.

  “They were holding me down because I’d been fighting too much, and my boss was undressing me and talking to me. Saying I needed to relax and do my job.” I choked over the last word, my head shaking these tight, fast jerks as bile rose. “The strippers they’d hired came in just as he was reaching for his belt. A few of the guys chased them down when they bolted—I don’t know what happened to them after that. The remaining guys panicked, and I ran.”

  At that, Reed’s eyes shifted to me and his hand lowered. “Who are they?”

  My body sagged with a heaving breath. I’d talked about so many people and hinted at more.

  “Any of their names, I want them.” When my head began shaking, his voice was all gravel and lethal intent as he begged, “Emma.”

  “What will it change?”

  “It can’t change what happened to you, but something needs to be done,” he said firmly. “An officer abuses their badge? They need it taken away and to pay for whatever they did. Some asshole gets off on raping people—touching children? He deserves what’s coming for him in prison. Someone touches you? Emma . . .”

  I studied the pain and sorrow in his eyes as the grief in his voice slowly wrapped around me, trying to comfort me.

  “I can’t,” I said softly.

  “Emma—”

  “No, Reed, you don’t understand . . . I can’t.” I looked into his pleading expression for long moments before shrugging helplessly. “Boyfriends and husbands came and went so quickly with my mom. The only names I remember were near the end, and nothing happened with them. Nameplates on the officers she didn’t date? That wasn’t something I ever focused on.”

  He nodded after a moment, then said, “Your boss. His friends.” The words prompting, expecting.

  Defeat and anger pushed through me, mixing with the betrayal and pain from that night and the worry that came from having Jarrod Davis so close. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I can’t,” I cried out, my eyes burning with the threat of tears. “Reed, don’t make me do this.” When he started to protest, I stood up, trembling hands lifted in a silent plea for him to stop. “I’ve tried. I’ve done that before. I’ve put my trust in those kinds of people, and they stole a piece of my soul every time. Do not make me do this.”

  Reed rocked forward, only to stop. “Can I come to you?”

  My chest shuddered with a ragged exhale when I realized just how far back I’d taken us.

  When I nodded, he crossed the distance between us slowly, gray eyes searching me as if he were approaching a wild animal. “I’m not gonna make you do anything,” he said softly. “I will never make you do anything you don’t want to. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  I eyed the space he’d kept between us when he stopped as if he was forcing himself not to come any closer, then looked up at him, wanting to say so many things and not knowing how.

  That I was sorry for everything.

  That I was thankful he’d come closer rather than running.

  That I was more terrified than I’d ever been because I’d just handed him every part of me. Every demon, every tattered piece of baggage, another chunk of my heart . . .

  And I hated how vulnerable it all made me feel.

  The urge to protect myself was so strong, but the fear of watching him walk away again was stronger.

  “Thank you,” he said reverently. “Thank you for trusting me with what happened to you. If I could, I would take it all away. I would—God, Emma.” He pressed a tattooed hand to his chest. “It’s crushing me to know what you’ve been through. To know I can’t help you because I only seem to hurt you.”

  “Reed—”

  “I get it,” he said quickly. “What you see when you look at me. Why you pushed me away so many times. I get it.” A wounded laugh crawled from his chest. “I get it.”

  “Reed . . .”

  A pained smile crossed his face. “It’s like you said . . . you won’t be able to get past what I am.” He gestured to the side before his hand fell like a weight. “I love what I do. I’ve wanted to be a cop my entire life because my dad and uncle were my heroes growing up, and I wanted to be exactly like them. But even if I wasn’t in this line of work, it’s a part of me, Emma. It’s in my family, it’s in my blood, and that will remain a wall between us.”

  My head shook quickly but my voice was weak when I spoke. “I’ve wanted it to remain a wall between us, and I told you, I hated that it wasn’t. That I was falling for you so easily despite the fact that you embody everything I’ve learned to fear. But that doesn’t mean if you push past my defenses, they disappear. That doesn’t mean they don’t flare to life and suffocate me when, suddenly, I’m in a place alone with a handful of cops,” I said pointedly.

  Understanding and a lethal sort of calm settled over him, his dark brows pulling low over his eyes.

  “I don’t want a man who wears a badge and carries a gun. I don’t want a man who is covered in tattoos. I didn’t want a man at all.” I shrugged because he’d known all those things from the beginning. “But for every reason I had to keep you away, there were more that had me dropping my guard with you. That had all those reservations slipping away. That doesn’t mean I’m not haunted by things I never wanted anyone to know.”

  My tongue darted out to wet my lips as my stare fell to the floor between our feet, my body vibrating as I struggled to voice my fears. “I’ve never wanted to be touched by someone the way I want to be touched by you. And
I want more. But what if every time is like that last morning? Because the only times I’ve been touched—” I swallowed thickly, my face crumpling when I looked at Reed.

  His understanding shifted to sorrow before fading to nothing. Just nothing.

  I nodded in acceptance and choked out, “I also told you there wouldn’t be getting past what you learned about me.”

  “I want to destroy the people who hurt you,” he ground out. “I want to erase what they did from your memory. I want to show you why you’re wrong—why nothing you could tell me would make me want you any less. I want to show you what it’s like to be adored and worshipped and loved. But right now, I feel like I’m dying because I don’t know how much worse I’ve made it for you.”

  “You haven’t.”

  Disbelief poured from him as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Who’s Kira?” I asked, finally voicing the question that had swirled around and around for days.

  His hand fell, his eyes narrowed on me at the abrupt change. “What?”

  “Peter—” I swallowed thickly, my head shaking as I tried to explain, “When Peter showed up in my room, you looked at your phone to see his messages.”

  Reed nodded, the movement all hesitation as he waited.

  “There was a message from her.”

  “‘Come home?’” Reed asked, voice tight. When I nodded, he let out a huff that was all aggravation mixed with understanding. “That’s why you shut down that morning . . . isn’t it?” His stare bored into mine. “Next time, talk to me.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She’s my sister—one of. She’s one of my sisters,” he explained, sounding weighed down. “She sends that same text all the time, but that’s a whole lot of shit we’ll get into another day. Not today. Not after everything you just told me.”

  “That.” My head bounced softly before shaking. “That is the only thing that can possibly be described as something you’ve made worse for me during these weeks. When I saw that message and heard Hannah talking, it felt like my initial assessment of you was being proven right, and it hurt.” I pressed my hands to my chest. “Hurt more and hurt deeper than I ever could’ve expected, and I felt stupid. So stupid for letting myself fall. For ignoring every one of my principles. And I couldn’t give you the chance to do it again.”

  “You still feel that way?”

  My body seemed to crumple even though I didn’t so much as flinch. “No. But my instinct was to push you away before you could do anything again. Today, my instinct was to push you away even though, deep down, I know you wouldn’t have brought anyone here for any reason other than to help. My instinct will be to push you away . . . and now that you know where it comes from?”

  “You keep saying shit like that as if what you endured could make me walk away,” he said, voice grave. “But even before I knew what happened to you, remember that I’ve seen you react to a lifetime of pain. I’ve felt that push. There’s a difference in what you’re talking about and you forcing me out before I can touch your heart. Because I’ve felt that push too, and you made sure I knew it was absolute.”

  He took a step forward, still leaving a few feet between us that felt alive with the energy that always swirled around us, his jaw tense as he took me in. “You can make me walk, Emma, not your past. And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m right here.”

  My heart was pure chaos as I studied Reed’s distressed eyes. “What if it gets to be too much?”

  “Gets?” A breath that edged on laughter left him. “Emma . . . you already frustrate the hell out of me.” He held a hand between us, palm up. An invitation. “But I’ve never wanted to be frustrated by someone so badly in my life.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I asked as I placed my hand in his slowly, tentatively. The tips of my fingers brushing across his palm before I gave him all of me. That wild pounding of my heart feeling like it just might escape my chest when one of his fingers curled, teasing the sensitive part of my wrist.

  His eyes searched mine, the depth in them shouting that I should’ve known it was. “You have a shield that is as sharp as razors and as cold as ice, and it’s infuriating because there’s no getting through it. But watching you slip it off for even a minute?” His fingers slid up my forearm before slowly making the path back to my hand. “It’s enough to bring me to my knees because I know that’s you coming to me. That’s you trusting me. Those seconds and minutes and hours are you giving me insights to you that I don’t take for granted.”

  Oh.

  Reed’s voice softened to a whisper when he repeated, “There’s a difference in the way you push. I get that all of this is hard for you and new—I swear, I do. But you have to try to talk to me when shit like Kira’s text or the Hannah bullshit happens.” His throat shifted with a forced swallow as he studied me. “Emma, I’ll help you come back every time you shut down and shut me out. But you push me away on a personal level? That’s you retreating somewhere I can’t follow.”

  I nodded slowly, my breath tumbling past my lips when he closed the last of the space and placed his forehead against mine.

  “Thank you for trusting me with your pain,” he said again, words washing across my lips and wrapping around my heart. “You didn’t owe me any of your past, but I would’ve given anything to have it—to understand you.”

  A little shiver danced down my spine as one of the memories tried to break free, but I pushed it back and closed the box tightly, forcing myself to breathe. Let myself feel the comfort and warmth he was offering, and I’d been missing.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you.” The words slipped out unexpectedly and effortlessly. The truth of them filling the space around us and causing his hand to tighten on me for just a moment. “I’m sorry for the things I said.” My head shook quickly against his as I confessed, “I hated thinking of you with her—with anyone else.”

  “I wish you would’ve talked to me,” he said softly, an ache lingering in his words. “Hannah was sitting outside my house a couple weeks ago, waiting for me, wanting to talk about starting something between us.” He placed a hand on his chest and quickly added, “I said no. I told her that night between us was a mistake, I even apologized to her for it. She was upset and started to leave, then asked if it was because of you. She’d heard about you and was clearly pissed there might be something between you and me. I didn’t deny it, but I didn’t confirm it either because you still had a ten-foot wall between us.” He drew in a slow breath as the hand on his chest slipped around my back, holding me close. “Nick lives a few streets away from me. He told me he saw her waiting when he was driving home.”

  “Oh,” I murmured as I thought back to that morning in a new light.

  “Yeah. It all makes sense now though. Because Rowe was being weird as hell in your room, then he was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and kept looking up like he was expecting you to be there. He said, ‘If I make it here in time for breakfast, I always bump into Hannah, which means she’s probably on her way.’” Reed shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck what Hannah does, so when I just stared at him, he told me that it had already made it to the fire department about Hannah and me.”

  My stare unfocused as jealousy roared to life in my stomach.

  “I said something like, ‘That took a while,’ because that kind of news usually spreads around town as fast as it happens. People were talking about you and me before we even began,” he explained. “Anyway, he looked disappointed as hell, but he just left without responding. I couldn’t figure out why it was such a big deal because he’d already known about that night with her. I’d even told him that you’d heard her. But I didn’t think much of it because she doesn’t mean anything to me and then everything fell apart with you.” He blew out an exhausted breath. “I’m starting to think what he’d heard—what I’d unknowingly confirmed—was that I was still sleeping with her.”

  “I should have talked to you,” I said after absorbing his side of it all
, the words laced with my regret. “But that isn’t me—that isn’t who I am. I don’t trust or give chances or forgive easily. Still, after everything, you deserved that chance.”

  “Emma . . .”

  Apologizing to a man had never been in my nature before Reed. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered.

  But I was sorry.

  Sorry for blaming him for the days of pain and anger. Sorry for the things I’d said and assumed.

  “Reed, I’m sorry.”

  The hand on my back tightened in response.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  He pressed his forehead harder against mine for a moment, his eyelids squeezing tight before his eyes were boring into mine. “Tell me not to, and I won’t. But—”

  “Kiss me.”

  Reed’s mouth was on mine in an instant.

  Soft.

  Sure.

  A slow claiming of my heart and my soul.

  Then he was cradling my neck and tilting my head back, deepening the kiss and stealing my breath in the most devastating way. Demanding everything I had to give while pouring out all his love and anger and desire and sorrow.

  “I love you,” he breathed against my lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Oh good, you made it,” Lala said from where she was standing just feet from the front door, casserole dish in hand. “Let’s go. You won’t need your bag.”

  My body sagged and ached for my bed after the physically exhausting week and emotionally exhausting day with Reed, but I just asked, “Where are we going this time?” as I dropped my bag inside the entryway and stepped back onto the porch.

  “Next door—it’s our monthly church potluck. Nora’s already there, I just came back to grab this last one.” She lifted the dish in explanation as she started down the steps. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be home in time. Or home at all . . .”

  “Because you tricked Reed and me into being at the same place again?” I asked bluntly.

  She tsked, all feigned offense. “I would never do such an outrageous thing.”