by Rebel Hart
“Have you heard from your mom?” I ask, helping myself to a seat on his bed.
“I don’t want to see you,” he replies weakly. “I told you, I can’t even look at you after what you did.”
“Then why did you come to Malcolm’s yesterday?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“I was coming to beat his ass for putting his hands on you,” he booms in his deep voice.
“Emmett, nothing happened between Malcolm and me,” I say again. “I promise. I could never do that to you.”
He groans. “I saw the photo, Ophelia.”
“You know what Malcolm and Lily did,” I shoot back. “That should be enough to prove to you that Malcolm is a terrible person and a liar. He made sure that photo got sent to you and everyone.”
“But there was something for a photo to be taken of…” he insists.
“No!” I cut him off, flying into a pace around the room. “I was hanging out with Malcolm, yes. And I realize now that I shouldn’t have been. But I was so convinced Vivian was luring you back in and I was upset. He offered to keep me company, and then he made a pass at me. I fought him off and came here to tell you everything. But by the time I got here, that photo had already been sent. Someone doctored it!”
“How am I supposed to believe you?” he persists in an aching tone, as if he’s asking himself just as much as me.
“Because I would never do anything to hurt you, Emmett!” I cry earnestly. “You have to know that! I love you! I never even got to tell you about him trying to get me to fool around with him because Vivian was here! I didn’t even have a chance to explain.”
“You swear it was faked?” he asks. “Nothing happened?”
“I kicked him in the balls to get him off of me,” I explain. “I didn’t even want to be around him in the first place. I only ever wanted to be with you…but every time Vivian tried to come between us, he was always there waiting. I should have known he was up to something, that he was no good!”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He melts in exasperation, collapsing into the chair in the corner of his room, sliding his hands across his face and through his hair.
“I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.” I shake my head, tears in my eyes. “To see that photo and think it was real. I don’t know what I would have done if it had been a picture of you and Vivian.”
“You would have broken everything in your room.” He smirks in embarrassment, gesturing around to the lingering assortment of cracked and broken objects littering his floor. “I was so upset I wouldn’t even let the housekeepers in to clean this mess up.”
I start to argue with him, but then I realize he’s probably right. I didn’t used to think I had a temper, but lately I seem to be proving myself wrong on that one.
“I guess love makes everyone a little crazy,” I suggest, running my palm across the back of my neck.
He steps towards me with an intense look in his eyes, whipping my body over to his. “You definitely drive me crazy, Ophelia,” he coos in his deep, sexy voice.
My heart lights up at his sound and the feeling of being in his arms again. It’s a wave of relief when his lips lower to mine, kissing me soft and slow before quickly picking up into a needy pace, the way all of our kisses are. Desperate and insatiable. This is all I have been wanting the past couple of days, and everything I thought I would never have again. I’d convinced myself it was over, but my heart refused to let go. And now that we are together again, I know why. I know why I can never seem to get away from Emmett. This is meant to be, and that is the intense pull we feel towards each other.
“I think we’re soulmates, Emmett,” I suggest softly. “Do you believe in that sort of thing?”
“I never thought about it before,” he replies honestly. “But…I think you’re right. I don’t feel whole unless I’m with you.”
The intense need scares me, but I know there’s no use fighting it. It’s never worked before. It seems as though no matter what we do, we’re going to end up like this. Back in each other’s arms, as we should be.
“Something weird happened today,” I tell him finally. “The fire alarm went off at school. It ended up being some kind of prank, but I could have sworn I saw Bernadette walking away from the crowd.”
“What?” he exclaims. “Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure…” I hesitate. “But it definitely did look like her. And just like that she was gone! I tried to catch up to her…but nothing.”
His face wrinkles in confusion as he stares off.
“It’s not your fault,” Emmett continues. “I know what kind of guy Malcolm is. I should have realized it was all a set-up. That’s why we’re not friends anymore. He’s a terrible person.” I see acceptance washing over him. One side was telling him not to buy into that photo the whole time, just as one side kept telling me not to worry about Vivian, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of his insecurities.
“We used to be best friends, but he was sick. A sociopath,” he continues. “Even when I was forced into going along with the Elites, I couldn’t get over how fucked up and sadistic Malcolm was. He reminded me too much of my father.
“That’s funny.” I wrinkle my nose as I remember the first night I met with Malcolm. “He said the same thing about you.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“When I first met Malcolm,” I go on. “It was right before you, Trey, and Vincent kidnapped me. I met with him and his dad, and on the way, he told me how you two used to be friends, but that you turned into a horrible person when you started hanging out with the Elites.”
“What meeting with Malcolm and his dad?” Emmett’s eyes dart back and forth cluelessly.
“My father sent them. They were the ones who told me who he was and what went down with him in Jameson,” I explain. “They told me all about his gambling debts and how he embezzled money from Jameson Automobiles to pay them. How he got stripped of all his shares and cast out of town. They wanted me to help them collect evidence against you and the rest of the Elites, to prove their software company was being used in the sex trafficking rings, but that they were completely innocent and had nothing to do with it.”
He shoots up in alarm. “When did this happen?”
“I told you…right before I came home and found you and the twins in my room,” I stammer, not understanding why he seems so worried.
“How could you not tell me that!” he snaps.
“I didn’t think it was important!”
“Ophelia, the Hendersons aren’t innocent,” Emmett states coldly. “The entire sex trafficking thing was their idea! Malcolm himself tailored the software to run it!”
“Well, then, why aren’t they going down with everyone else?” I ask.
“They just wanted to pin everything on the rest of the Elites to get their hands on Jameson Automobiles!” he asserts. “They’ve always wanted control over the company. I wasn’t just jealous of Malcolm. I didn’t want you around him because he’s dangerous! I knew he was just trying to use you to get to me. I wanted to protect you from him.”
Now all of my comparisons between Vivian and Malcolm feel ridiculous. That’s why Emmett was so adamant about me staying away from Malcolm, while being unable to understand my jealousy of Vivian. He wasn’t being jealous and possessive. He was afraid for me.
“You know for certain they’re behind everything with the sex trafficking rings?” I ask, needing to know he’s positive.
“Yes!” he fires back without hesitation. “That’s part of why we stopped hanging out. He was already making plans for the whole thing! Vivian kept trying to tell me it was all just a plan to take the rest of our families down in the long run, but we couldn’t convince any of them. They all fell right into his trap. They’ve been setting things up to work out this way from the beginning.”
“So…does that mean…my father?” I try to connect the dots. “Was he involved, too?”
“Think about it.
Why would your father send Malcolm and Liam to talk to you like that when I had already agreed to take you in?” he proposes. “I don’t think they ever had anything to do with your father at all. They were just trying to make you trusted them enough to get them the evidence. To help make sure nothing went wrong with their plan.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” I shake my head. “Sure, maybe Malcolm was just trying to use me to throw you off this whole time so he could find some way to get control of the company. But what about Coach Granger? Why did he drag Lily into that?”
“Without Coach Granger around to offer you other solutions, you’d feel like you had no other way out than to help them find evidence,” he concludes.
I nod in agreement. “But they didn’t know I had you.”
“And they didn’t know your father was working with me.”
“I’m so sorry, Emmett,” I cry, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry I never mentioned the meeting with them. So much happened so fast! I should have listened to you when you told me to stay away from Malcolm. I thought you were just jealous.”
“It’s okay,” he sighs, taking me into his arms. “I wish I had told you what kind of person he really was.”
My cheek drifts across the warmth of Emmett’s warm skin as he holds me, and the world feels right again. I’m so relieved he finally believes me and that I understand more about everything that has been happening. Emmett wasn’t giving into Vivian because he still had feelings for her. He knew there was a side to her that I couldn’t see—the side I saw under the stairs at school. And his rage towards Malcolm was all about keeping me safe.
Suddenly, he pulls back and whips out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m calling the police,” he states sternly.
“What?” I cry. “Why now? I thought we couldn’t trust them!”
“Don’t you see? The Hendersons are behind Bernadette’s disappearance. They have to be!” he explains assertively, but I’m not following him.
“How can you be so sure?”
“You don’t have to believe me, but I know Vivian doesn’t have anything to do with this,” he continues. “And her parents are too wrapped up in the investigation to pull something like this off.”
“No, I know that now.” I nod my head in earnest agreement. “I do believe you.”
“Trey and Vincent were sent off to stay with family on the other side of the country,” he expounds. “No one has heard from them. Their parents are in the same boat Vivian’s are. We know Lily was wrapped up in her own problems…nothing that had to do with coming after the company.”
“And if we’re certain my father didn’t do it…then that leaves the Hendersons.” I exhale sharply, wishing we could have seen it before.
“They must be trying to use Bernadette and my mom as some kind of leverage to get control over Jameson Automobiles,” he rants with a certain clarity. “That’s what they’ve wanted all along.”
“Why wait so long?” I question, still not feeling as convinced as he is. “Why not just come straight after you?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, his eyes darting around the room in thought. “I don’t know what they’re up to, but I’m convinced they’ll know exactly where Bernadette and my mom are.”
The Hendersons could have taken Bernadette, hoping to arrange some sort of hostage deal to get what Emmett inherited from his father, but it still doesn’t make sense. Why would Malcolm spend so much time goading me? Why wait at all? Why not just let Emmett know right away to try and get what they were after?
Emmett seems convinced, and he knows more about the dynamics of this fucked up town than I do, so I don’t question him.
“But wait…how do you know the cops aren’t just as much in the Henderson’s pockets as they were your father’s?” I propose. “You said we shouldn’t trust them.”
“I’m done playing games,” he barks. “This has gone on long enough. You were right. We should have called them right away. I just needed to be certain of who was responsible for this.”
“Just think about this first,” I plead with him, worried he’s acting too rashly. “You swore calling the cops wasn’t an option.”
“I’m not going to get wrapped up in the same endless stream of dirty games as my father,” he insists. “I said I was going to do things differently, and now it’s time to do that. I have to set an example for the Hendersons and anyone else who even thinks about trying something like this after them. Jameson is going to play by the rules now. These twisted games aren’t going to work anymore.”
“Wait!” I throw my hand around his to stop him from dialing. “I have an idea. What about Coach Granger? He knows just as well as you do that the cops around here are corrupt. But he said he has a detective friend or something that he can trust. They helped him find out Lily and Malcolm were behind his son’s death.”
“Do you think he’d help us?” Emmett asks me, his face bright and open.
I shrug. “We stand just as good of a chance with him as we would with the rest of the police.”
“Okay. Call him,” he commands urgently.
I pull out my phone and step to the other side of the room. I tell Coach Granger I don’t have time to explain, but that I need someone within the authorities that we can actually trust. Without hesitation, he gives me the name and number of his friend, Detective Williams.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask one more time before Emmett calls.
He nods assertively. “I’m sure.” He puts the phone on speaker as it rings.
“Yeah?” A curt and raspy voice picks up.
“Detective Williams?” Emmett asks.
“Who’s this?” the man shoots back, sounding like his mouth is full of food.
“Emmett Jameson,” he replies. “Coach Granger told me I could trust you.”
The line falls silent for a moment. Then, “Wow…Mr. Jameson himself,” he marvels. “Listen, son, I don’t know what you need…But I don’t play into all the bullshit the rest of the force around here does. I can’t be bought off for whatever trouble it is you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Then you’re just the guy I need,” Emmett pleads. “I need to report a disappearance. Possibly two. Mrs. Jameson and her daughter, Bernadette Jameson. And I know where they are.”
Silence again, muffled by a big gulp and the ruffle of what sounds like a paper napkin against the guy’s face. “Where?” he asks finally.
“With Liam and Malcolm Henderson.”
We hear a pen plopping to a pad of paper, as if he’s not even going to bother writing it down.
“The Hendersons?” he gaffs. “It’s going to be pretty hard to go after them for anything. They’re quickly becoming even more powerful than your father was.”
“That may be, but this town still depends on Jameson Automobiles,” Emmett insists. “And if they get their hands on my company, they won’t look out for the people here the way I will. So, everyone’s jobs and this entire economy rests on your ability to save Bernadette and my mother and stop whatever they’re planning. Can you help us?”
Detective Williams tells us he will see what he can do. We sit side by side on the edge of Emmett’s bed and anxiously wait for him to call back. I squeeze his hand tightly in mine as we watch the sun slowly set outside his bedroom window. We’re both mulling over every possible scenario, the best and the worst. He could call back and say he has Bernadette and is bringing her home alive and well. He could call back and say everything has gone wrong.
Finally, the phone rings, making us both jump. Emmett flies from the bed, flipping the phone back onto speaker. “Detective Williams?”
“Emmett,” he answers with a big sigh that makes our hearts sink. “Look, son, I gotta ask you: are you feeling okay?”
It’s not a question either of us were expecting.
“Did you find my mom and Bernadette?” he asks frantically, shaking away the odd question. “Are they
okay? Did you rescue them?”
“I’m afraid we couldn’t rescue them…” he says grimly. “Because they weren’t kidnapped.”
“What are you talking about?” Emmett freezes. My mouth drops. His tone had us both preparing for the worst, but this…this is something different.
“They were with the Hendersons, alright,” he clarifies. “But they said they were there of their own free will. To get away from you.”
“What!” Emmett snaps.
“They said you’ve gone off the deep end since your father died. The Hendersons offered to take them in to get them away from you,” Williams explains frankly.
“No…no…” Emmett massages the bridge of his nose in confusion. “You saw them!? You talked to them yourself, in person?”
“Of course,” he confirms, sounding too chipper. “They looked perfectly fine. Said they were there of their own free will. They’re really worried about you, though. Malcolm says you’ve been having some…girlfriend troubles? He mentioned that hasn’t been helping things too much.”
Emmett looks at me with wide eyes, and I look just as shocked. I’ve been to Malcolm’s house twice now, and it never occurred to me that Bernadette and their mom could both be there—much less of their own free will. To make everything worse, they’re inexplicably trying to pin all of this on Emmett, to make it look like they were escaping some kind of psychotic break down of his.
“I’m fine, Detective Williams,” Emmett murmurs despondently. “Thank you for all of your help.”
“You at home, son?” Williams asks suddenly. “Can I send someone over to check on you?”
Emmett ends the call without answering and looks at me with distant, lost eyes. With a breath of disbelief, he drops to the chair behind him. The phone thumps to the floor from his listless hand.
“I can’t believe they’d do that,” I say softly, not knowing what else to say. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” he answers dryly. “We have to go to the Hendersons’.”
