“She knew your mother.”
“Felicity may have given birth to me, but she was not my mother.”
I sense her pain. She likely doesn’t even realize how bad she’s hurting, but it’s there. Something I recognize because I, too, like to bury my pain. It’s much easier than dealing with it. Except I know from experience, no matter how deep down you bury those personal demons, they always find a way to claw themselves to the surface.
The only true way to get rid of them is to face them and take away their power by reminding them—and yourself—that you serve a God who has already won the battle.
Something I’m working on. And God willing, I’ll figure it out sooner rather than later.
“I know that you’re hurting, Emma. But we need answers, and Harlow is the only one who can give them to us. She’s refusing to say anything else to me and Tucker, but I hope she’ll talk to you. If you’re not up for it, I understand, but I think it’s the only move we have right now. The clock is ticking, and we need information sooner rather than later.”
Emma crosses her arms. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why do you have to keep looking into this? I’m here—and safe. Felicity said that, if you just keep me safe until after the first of November, then the threat is over. That’s less than two weeks away. Why not just let that clock run out?”
I stare at her. Is she serious?
How could she not want to know the truth?
“What makes you think this deadline means anything? That whatever they did will work?”
“Because she was adamant about it.”
“Emma, I won’t have you living your life looking over your shoulder. It’s a horrible reality to be in.”
“But it’s my reality,” she replies, pressing a hand to her chest. “Mine. Shouldn’t I get a say in it? If I have to choose between living without you or looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, I choose the latter. I can live like that. I can’t live if something happens to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do know that. Just like I know we need to figure this out. He’s not going to stop. And I’m not betting your life on some fictitious timer put in place by a dead woman and her friend.” I wish I could take back the harshness of my words as soon as I say them.
But they’re there. Lingering between us.
Her gaze hardens further, and she pales slightly.
“I’m sorry. That was callous.”
She glares at me, though now I see that it’s not anger on her face. It’s fear. “I’m afraid, Dylan.”
“I know you are.” I don’t tell her that she shouldn’t be afraid, that there’s no reason for her to be with me around. But the truth is, she has every right to be afraid. Heath Slater is a monster just as she described, and after staring him in the eyes, I’m not sure anything short of a wooden box will stop him from getting to her.
Honestly? As long as he’s no longer a threat, I couldn’t care less whether he’s in a box or a cage.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” she whispers, her heartbreak hanging on every single word.
It makes my chest ache.
“Emma,” I say softly, “I’ve been lost since they put me in that pit. I’m trying to find my way back, but I don’t know if I ever will. Let me do this for you. Let me finish this fight so you can live a life of peace. The life you deserve.”
She stares at me, tears shimmering in her eyes. “And if I say no? If I tell you to drop it?”
I grind my teeth together. “Then I’ll walk away. But I think it’s the wrong move.”
She continues staring at me. Is she trying to read me? To see if I really would do as she asks and walk away? “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
