Emily's grip on Barnaby tightened as she processed this. "My own parents?" Her voice was small, disbelieving.
"They probably don't understand what they're setting in motion," I lied, hoping it was true. "But they've put you in danger either way."
She stood frozen in the kitchen, clearly torn between her anger at our methods and the very real threat we were describing.
"I understand if you never want to see me again after this," I said quietly. "But please, Emily—come with us now. Let us keep you safe."
Emily looked down at Barnaby, then back up at me. Something in her expression shifted, a decision being made.
"I said terrible things to you," she said, her voice barely audible. "Things I didn't mean."
"I deserved them," I replied, relief flooding through me. "And I did terrible things to you. Going through your files. Invading your privacy."
"To protect me," she said softly.
"Yes. I regret upsetting you, but I will always put your safety first."Even if you hate me.
Emily took a deep breath, then stepped away from the couch. "I haven't even unpacked what Walker brought me, but I need to check it."
Emily went into her bedroom while I scanned the apartment, my mind racing through contingency plans. “Make sure you pack for a few days,” I said, knowing I wanted her to stay forever, but also knowing she’d bolt if I gave her the slightest reason.
"We have a car waiting downstairs," Walker informed her, then turned and left.
I desperately wanted to follow her into her bedroom, but I managed to stay where I was.
Just.
Chapter Nine
Emily
I didn't comment the whole time Dion drove us back to his house, even when he curled his fingers with mine and pulled my hand onto his lap. We arrived, and I noticed the dogs weren't there. "They're with Abby. I'll go get them soon."
Dion guided me to the room I'd slept in before, next to his, and put my suitcase down, then stood almost awkwardly. "It kills me I might have destroyed the chance of something special growing between us."
I sighed. "It's not just about the files. What happened before..." I trailed off, not sure how to continue.
"Scared you," Dion finished for me.
I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. "I've never... shown that side of myself to anyone before."
"And now you feel exposed."
"Yes." I looked up, meeting his eyes. If I owed Dion anything, it was honesty. "I don't know what to do," I admitted. "I feel like I'm losing control of everything."
"Maybe that's not entirely a bad thing," Dion suggested gently. "Maybe some things aren't meant to be controlled."
I let out a shaky laugh. "You sound like my therapist."
"You have a therapist?" Dion asked, surprise evident in his voice.
"Had," I corrected. "For about three sessions after I graduated when Mom and Dad were still interfering. Then I convinced myself I was fine and stopped going."
Dion's lips quirked slightly. "That tracks."
Despite everything, I felt a smile tug at my lips. "I guess it does."
We stood looking at each other across the room, the tension slowly ebbing away. I still felt raw, exposed, but the blind panic that had driven me to grab my files and threaten to leave was subsiding.
