Desperation now. ‘I do not believe this is happening…’ she cast around for support from Jesse, from her father but the consternation she read on their faces was hard to look at. ‘I did not try to kill myself. I have no idea how I got in the water, and I know I was drunk, but I am not suicidal…’ A sob choked off what had been about to say.
‘I want to go home,’ she whispered and, without opening her eyes, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. They were on her before she could stand.
‘I’m sorry,’ the doctor huffed as he and Jesse pushed her back. She opened her eyes and wrenched her arms out of their grip.
‘I’m not staying here.’ The hysteria in her voice was building, the fear overwhelming, a roaring in her ears, the hard hammering of blood, of rage, of helplessness. She was struggling now, looking to Jesse for help. He shook his head.
‘You have to, bubs, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ He held her head to his chest as she gave up, sobbing.
Her father came and sat on the bed, winding his arm around her waist. ‘I’m here, sweetie, I’m here.’ The solid warmth of his body next to hers made her body involuntarily relax against him. He hugged her tight. Kizzie saw her mother’s lips tighten. ‘I’m here.’ Jesse and the doctor both released their grip as she let her father hold her, all fight in her gone. She listened to them talk, words like ‘psych evaluation,' ‘sedative’’. Her father’s arms tightened around her. The doctor sighed.
‘I’m sorry, Kizzie. I’m placing you on a seventy-two-hour involuntary hold. The psychiatrist will be along to see you soon.’ He nodded to Jesse and her father and left the room. Kizzie looked at her parents, Jesse, her friend Bree and saw the pain in their eyes. ‘I swear to you all,’ she said in a shaky voice, ‘I did not try to kill myself.’
Her mother gave a sob, and a tear dropped down Bree’s face.
Kizzie closed her eyes again, pulled away from her father’s arms and rolled onto her side, away from both of them. No one believes me.
It was then, finally, that she gave up hope.
Emory had taken to walking around the compound – she hated that word, so militaristic when really the place was a set of gorgeous buildings set over acres and acres of woodland and meadows. It was heavenly and so, to aid her recovery (again, she thought with a wry smile) She took longs walks around the place. Dante joined her for many of the walks, bringing along his two dogs, a long-haired German Shepherd named The Brigadier and a mad dark red Cavalier King Charles called Duke, who was madly in love with Emory.
‘He has good taste,’ Dante had said ruefully, and Emory giggled at his eye-rolling as she played with the two dogs. ‘Damn dogs get all the attention.’
They talked, a lot, Dante telling her about his fiery Italian mother and laid-back father. ‘She would always be flinging her arms around ranting about politics and feminism and just everything, and he would just nod along and agree. That drove her mad; she wanted the arguments, the debates, the passion. It was pretty funny to watch.’
‘They sound amazing.’
Dante nodded. ‘They were, I was very lucky.’
‘They’re not with you anymore?’
‘Cancer. Within weeks of each other five years ago.’
Emory was appalled and tucked her hand under his arm. ‘I’m so sorry, Dante.’
He covered her hand with his. ‘Thank you, Em.’ She loved how he called her that, so friendly, so at ease with her. She leaned against him, and he smiled.
‘Have you had any new memories come back?’
Emory nodded. ‘Some. Bit and pieces. I remember Bree mostly, how much she meant to me, how close we were. I mean, after I was her teacher, we were friends, I think.’
‘I think so too. You saved her life. What about,’ and Dante cleared his throat, looking nervous, ‘her family? Do you remember them?’
‘Her mom had a beautiful name, that’s all I remember right now. I can’t quite…’
‘Clementine,’ Dante said, then hesitating again, ‘and her father? Luca Saffran?’
Emory felt a jolt at the name. She stopped and closed her eyes, willing the memories to come back. ‘There’s something…I can’t reach it.’ Suddenly she felt tired and Dante, noticing, wrapped his arms around her.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pushing. Let’s get you back.’
They walked slowly back to the guesthouse. Dante held Emory’s hand and was gratified that she didn’t pull away. ‘Can I try and suggest again you move up to the big house? It’s not for me, you understand,’ and the playful expression on his face made her laugh, ‘it’s just that Duke and the Brigadier keep insisting and I just don’t know what to tell them.’
Emory chuckled. ‘Is that right? Well,’ and she flushed red and had to turn away to hide it, ‘A change of scenery is always good for recovery.’
Dante rocked back a little before a delighted smile crossed his face. ‘Wow, I took a chance…really? You’ll come stay?’
Her face burning, she turned back to face him, taking in the utter joy on his face. Her heart flipped a little – God, he was adorable and gorgeous. She stared up at him, her hand drifting up to touch his cheek. She took in his intense green eyes, his black curls messy, the dark shadow of his beard. ‘I’d like that.’ Her throat felt thick, full of emotion.
Dante opened his mouth to speak but then they both heard Sophie calling him. He smiled at Emory regretfully. ‘When you want to move your stuff, call me, and I’ll come help.’
Emory loved that he didn’t say ‘send my staff to help.' ‘How about after dinner?’
Dante grinned delightedly. ‘You got a deal.’
He stroked her cheek with a finger and then he went to find Sophie. Emory drew in a long, shaky breath. Emory Dutta, do not fall for this man. Emory smiled to herself. ‘Way, way too late,’ she whispered softly and then went to pack.
Maximo Neri’s heart was thumping hard, but he kept his face blank and expressionless. Luca had suggested they meet with Clem after Maximo had told Luca he would help him in anyway. Now they were driving to her home to meet the journalist she was working with, and Maximo found himself suddenly nervous about seeing Clem again.
To distract himself, he looked over at Luca now. The man looked strained almost to the breaking point; Maximo recognized that feeling well. To have the woman you love taken away so violently…
‘You know, you still have to decide what to do with Raymond Grace.’
Luca nodded. ‘I know, and I’m struggling with it. I want to rip him limb from limb, but then it’s the easy way out for him. Where have you got him?’
Maximo cleared his throat. ‘Best you don’t know.’
Luca looked if he was about to argue then closed his mouth. After a minute, he said softly, ‘You’re a good friend, Maximo.’
Maximo smiled. ‘I appreciate that, Luca. Maybe when all this is settled, we can spend time together more fruitfully.’
‘Almost there,’ Luca said, distracted. Maximo drew in a discreet silent breath and pulled the car into Clem’s driveway.
Clem herself opened the door and immediately her eyes met Maximo’s. She smiled, and he could see she was as scared as he was. She led them into her living room where a young blonde woman sat, glasses shoved onto the top of her head, glass of wine in her hand. Clem introduced her as Tatiana Mendelssohn, and both Max and Luca shook the woman’s hand. After Clem had got them some drinks, they all sat down.
‘Luca, Max, Tat and I have been talking about Emory’s Foundation and we think that we need to narrow the focus down, make it abut intimate partner violence.’
‘I agree,’ said Luca, nodding, ‘it’s the most appropriate message. We need to reach out to politicians, make sure we tighten the laws.’ He talked for a few minutes more, and Max could see the strain on his face.
When Luca had finished, Max said softly, ‘Could we extend it to familial violence?’ Taking a deep breath, he told them everything about Ophelie’s murder, Ferdie’s exile
. He was open, honest about the whole story, his pain and passion laid out for them all to see.
Clem didn’t take her eyes from Max as he told about his lost love. Her heart was thudding, her stomach squirming with horror as Max laid out the brutal way his brother had killed Max’s love. It answered so many questions. When he had finished, Clem reached for his hand automatically, and Max squeezed her hand before withdrawing. Luca, watching them, his eyes soft. ‘I’m so sorry, Maximo,’ he said gently, ‘I had no idea. No wonder you’ve been so empathetic. Thank you, it must have brought up terrible memories.’
Max nodded. ‘It has, but I want to use that pain, that anger we both have to make a difference.’ Clem smiled at him gratefully and looked at her friend, Tatiana.
‘What do you think, Tat?’
Tatiana smiled at them all. She was a serious-looking English-woman who Clem had instantly bonded with, despite the fact that Tatiana was closer to Bree’s age than Clem’s. Her intelligence and compassion surprised Clem, but Tatiana told her that journalism was merely her way to get to the information she needed for her activism. ‘I’m a fierce feminist,’ she had told Clem at their first meeting, ‘and I don’t back down when represented with a challenge. Women’s rights are being decimated in the most insidious ways; low-key, under-the-radar, eventually we’ll be regressing back to the Stone Age, and we won’t have seen it coming.’
Now she went through her plans for the book with Clem, raising the issues from the shooting, yes, but tying them into Emory’s murder by her ex-husband.
‘Guys…I don’t need to tell you this is a compelling story. Beautiful young teacher, popular, inspirational, saves the life of a teenager, only to be shot to death by her jealous ex-husband.’
They all saw Luca wince. Tatiana looked sympathetic. ‘I know, Luca, I do know that it sounds like we’ll be exploiting Emory’s story and in a way, we will. But we’ll be doing it to protect more woman – and men – who are living under the threat of violence and death. Forgive me, but I cannot see a better legacy for Emory than that.’
Luca nodded slowly. ‘Look…Clem, Max, can I talk to Tatiana in private for a moment?’
Clem was surprised but nodded. ‘Of course,’ she looked shyly at Max, ‘Max, shall we go to the kitchen, find some food?’
Max stood. ‘Lead on.’
They walked in silence into the big kitchen and Clem, her face red, her heart pounding at being alone with him again, bustled around, pulling random items from the refrigerator, the cupboards. ‘How have you been?’ She asked him shyly.
‘I missed you,’ he said in a low voice, and she stopped. Her gaze met his, and she felt herself melt.
‘I miss you every moment,’ she whispered and then she was in his arms, his lips against hers.
‘Bella, I shouldn’t have walked away,’ he whispered when they finally broke free. Clem looked up at him, her eyes full of understanding.
‘I know why you did and you were right too. I wasn’t ready – and Max, I still don’t know if I am. And now I know about your Ophelie, maybe you aren’t too, am I right?’
Maximo pressed his lips to hers briefly. ‘You see me, Clem, you do. And to answer your question, no. Until I find Ferdie, I don’t think I will be. I need to honor Ophelie before I can move on but, Clementine, know this. I will come for you when this is all over.
Clem looked up at him with frightened eyes. ‘What will you do when you find your brother?’
Max’s eyes hardened, and Clem gave a shiver. ‘I will avenge her, bella Clementine. I will make him pay for what he did.’
Kizzie sat in the large, cold meeting room wondering if she could escape from a window. Group therapy. God.
Most of the others in the room, scattering around the large impersonal table were older; people in their thirties, forties, fifties. Only one other person was her age; a tall, gangly youth with short dark hair and huge chocolate brown eyes. He was looking as uncomfortable as she was, but he sensed her gaze and looked at her. He grinned, showing a mouthful of perfect white teeth and the expression lit up his face, made her smile back automatically. He side-eyed the other people in the room and rolled his eyes, and Kizzie had to stifle a giggle.
‘Okay, everyone here? Good.’ A harassed looking psychiatrist bustled into the room. After some preamble where she introduced herself - ‘I’m Dr. Wooley, Ph.D. and MD, but you can call me Gwen.’ – she told them to go around the room and introduced themselves. ‘And don’t forget to tell us a little about yourself.’
Kizzie could feel the collective groan that almost went up. Yeah, she thought, way to make us feel less stressed.
‘Someone begin,’ Gwen said, a little shrilly and the man next to Kizzie sighed.
‘Hey, I’m Doug, I’m fifty-two, and I got in a car wreck.’
Doug set them off and slowly they worked around the room. When it got to the young man’s turn, his face turned a deep scarlet.
‘Yeah, uh, I’m Ethan Fonseca, and I got a little shot up in the Auburn massacre, I guess,’ he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the spotlight.
Kizzie felt her heart stop and when it was her turn, she couldn’t stop staring at Ethan. ‘I’m Lexi…I mean, Kizzie…my sister Lexi…’ She trailed off when she saw Ethan sit up, stare back at her, his attention riveted. He knows... Kizzie steeled herself. ‘My name is Kizzie Kline, and I guess they say I tried to kill myself, but I didn’t. My twin sister Lexi died at Auburn.’
She saw Ethan’s head incline – a small nod – an acknowledgment of shared history. Suddenly Kizzie didn’t want to be in this room; she wanted to grab Ethan and go somewhere they could really talk.
Ethan obviously had the same idea. As they filed out of the room later, he was waiting for her. ‘Come with me,’ he murmured in her ear and grabbing the top of her arm steered her into a stairwell and headed upwards. Finally, he pushed through into a little room that looked out onto the roof. ‘Found this place almost as soon as I could walk. Good to get away from people. Parents.’
There was no furniture, so they sat on the cool floor, facing each other.
‘So,’ Kizzie said, suddenly shy and he grinned.
‘So. Auburn…survivors. But I don’t remember you.’
Kizzie shook her head. ‘I didn’t go to Auburn, Lexi did.’
‘Where were you?’
‘The Peabody Institute.’
Ethan whistled. She loved the easy casual way he made her feel at ease. ‘Swanky. What do you play?’
‘Cello.’
‘Very nice.’
‘I got expelled.’
‘For what?’
‘Being a drunken whore.’
Ethan bust out laughing it was such an infectious sound Kizzie couldn’t help joining in. ‘That’s what I like to hear.’ She noticed him wince and hold his side. He saw her looking and raised his t-shirt. Three jagged scars along his side.
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah. Azano was a good shot. Hey, sorry…’ He smacked his own head. ‘Sorry about Lexi, she was…’
‘Really sweet, yeah, I know,’ but Kizzie smiled. ‘Everyone says it and I never get tired of hearing it. I mean it, no shade.’
Ethan squinted at her. ‘Bible?’
Kizzie laughed. ‘Dude, did you really just quote the Kardashians?’
Ethan grinned sheepishly. ‘I swear to God, the only t.v. channel they have in this godforsaken place is E!.’
‘Bible?’ Kizzie laughed as Ethan grimaced, then her smile faded. ‘Ethan, do you mind telling me about the shooting? Where were you?’
Ethan looked away and with a shock, Kizzie realized he had tears in his eyes. ‘You don’t have to,’ she said hurriedly, but he waved her protestations away.
‘No, I want to. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone yet, and I was hoping one day I would be able to tell someone…I just didn’t know it would be you.’
Kizzie felt her chest tighten. ‘You saw him kill Lexi, didn’t you?’
After a beat, Ethan nodded.
‘I did. I’m so sorry, Kizzie.’
Kizzie thought she might faint and for a second, she couldn’t breathe. ‘Tell me,’ she said eventually, ‘tell me everything.’
Ethan crawled over to her side. ‘As long as I can hold your hand while I do. I’m not being a creep, but I think we might both need it.’
Kizzie grabbed his hand. ‘Deal.’
Ethan wound his fingers between hers. ‘We were in the library. There was six of us, me, Lexi and Sandrine, Mr. Shaley. Rich Fuller and Ted Underwood. He shot Mr. Shaley first then Richard, in the head, and Ted. Ted survived too, but he’s a wreck. The thing I should tell you is that before, me and Lexi, had always gotten on really well with him, Mr. Azano, I mean. He was a cool dude, and we always made him laugh. Maybe that’s why he hesitated. Sandrine…she stepped forward to speak to him and he just shot her down. Then he looked at Lexi as if he were sorry and then shot her…she buckled, he’d shot her in the stomach, I tried to…then he shot me three times as you saw. Lexi didn’t die straight away. We played dead, and he left us. God, it was so quiet…then I kinda crawled over to her and told her to hang on. She grabbed my hand, like this,’ he held their conjoined hands up - ‘and told me to be brave and that she couldn’t breathe. Is this too much?’
Tears were flooding down Kizzie’s face but she shook her head. ‘I need to hear it.’
‘I could tell she was fading and to be honest, I thought I was a dead man too, so I thought, what the hell and I kinda wrapped myself around her, holding her, hoping she would feel loved. I hope you don’t think that was inappropriate. I thought she would be comforted.’
Kizzie wipes her tears and sniffed. ‘I know she would have been. Thank you, Ethan, thank you, I...’ She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed, and he held her tightly.
He buried his face In her hair. ‘Please don’t thank me, Kizzie. Please don’t…I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ His voice was breaking, and there was an undertone of something else, but Kizzie didn’t care. She just cared that her beloved Lexi hadn’t been alone when she died, that this adorable boy had looked out for her.
Evergreen: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 20
