by Vivi Barnes
“Liv, whoever’s doing this—”
“Nothing’s happened. I’m fine. Grandfather’s even got a detective following me now. He’ll make sure I’m okay. Thanks for coming, though,” I say again. Shut up already, Liv.
He nods, though his eyes stay soft on me. He knows I’m full of crap.
“Really,” I say, stepping back again. “I can handle this. You can go back to Richmond.”
He shakes his head, his lips twitching slightly. “No.”
Does he think this is funny? I wish he’d stop looking at me like that.
Em walks in then, and I’ve never been so glad to see her. I think she senses it. Her eyes are hard as she sizes up Jack. She sinks into a chaise lounge, crossing her legs and patting the space next to her so I can sit. “So have you solved the mystery yet? Didn’t you say the card you got was from Richmond?” She looks at Jack accusingly.
“It had a Richmond postmark,” Jack says quietly. He looks at me. “I took a look at the footage from the pawn shop next door. There’s a blond woman with the guy who bought the bracelet—she looks a lot like Jen.”
“Well, that would make sense,” I say. “We just need to figure out who the guy is, then.”
“Who’s Jen?” Emerson asks.
I don’t answer her. We probably should’ve waited to have this conversation in private. But Jack looks at her, his eyes wide in exaggerated innocence. “Ex-girlfriend who still lives with me. She doesn’t like when I bring home new girlfriends.”
“Shut up,” I say, trying my best to laugh naturally. Em does one of those ha-ha-ha laughs that tells me she’s not sure if he’s kidding or not. Sad that he really isn’t. I make a mental note to never bring up Maggie in conversation. “Jack’s just messing with you.” I look toward Jack. “Anyway, Jen is more of a ‘key your car’ person rather than a ‘leave roses on the pillow’ kind of girl, don’t you think? And what would she gain from stealing from your emergency house account?”
“Trying to set me up, I think. But she’s not working alone, and the only person I can come up with who’s working with her—the guy in the video—is Frank.”
“Who’s Frank?” Emerson asks.
“This guy who worked for Jack’s boss,” I tell her without thinking.
“Boss?” Emerson asks, her eyes cutting over to Jack. Uh-oh, I know how that sounds.
“Yeah, at this company he works for. Or worked for,” I say lamely. Jack’s examining his fingernails.
“Uh-huh,” she mutters, her eyes still fixed on Jack. “So why would this guy who worked for your boss be after Liv?”
Jack doesn’t answer. I know what he’s thinking. This isn’t Emerson’s business, and he has no intention of letting it be.
“Excuse me, Miss Emerson.” A young woman peeks into the library. “Ms. Gray said to tell you it’s snowing harder outside and the roads are gonna be real bad soon. Your guests may want to think about leaving.”
“Great,” Jack says, moving over to the window and staring at the heavily falling flakes, looking more like white rain than snowfall.
“Thanks.” Emerson turns to me, raising an eyebrow. I nod, and she sighs. “Cassandra, can you please make up the guest room? They’ll be staying with me tonight.”
Emerson looks at Jack. “Liv can sleep with me and I’ll get one of the guest rooms all set up for you. It’s far away from the one we’re in.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her as I text my grandfather. She finally cracks a smile. The doorbell rings and we jump.
“Stay out of sight,” I tell Jack. I follow Emerson downstairs as Cassandra opens the door. It’s the private investigator. He steps into the foyer, rubbing his arms briskly.
“Ma’am, I’m headed out, but your grandfather told me to do a quick check here to see if everything’s as it’s supposed to be.”
I laugh lightly. “Of course it is. We’re just doing homework and will probably be up late. Boring. You can go.”
“Ma’am, it’s not for you to tell me how to do my job.” His voice is snippy. He takes another couple steps in and looks around, like he’s proving a point. His eyes land on the staircase. It’s all I can do not to turn and look, though I know Jack is hidden upstairs. “Mind if I take a look around?” he asks Emerson.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” she says brightly. “My parents don’t like me to let strangers in the house. No offense.”
“Your parents are away?” His eyebrow is raised like he knows we’re throwing a keg party the moment he walks out the door.
She nods. “On business. But some of the household staff lives here. We’re fine.” She flips her hair back and grins in a flirty way that is so not like Emerson. She’s protecting Jack. Though I know it’s for me more than him, I was right to confide in her.
The man stares at her, then me. “Okay, well, I want you to call your grandfather and let him know you’re okay.” I nod, but as he waits expectantly, I remove my phone from my pocket and call Grandfather. I explain to him the situation, relieved that instead of being upset, he agrees that I should stay put. I hand the phone over to the officer, who confirms that we’re not out hitting the bars. After telling me he’ll stop later if he can “just to make sure everything is as it should be,” the PI leaves. Emerson shuts the door.
I give her the biggest hug I’ve ever given anyone. “Thank you!”
She squeezes me back. “That’s what friends are for. We have our uses, you know. But man, that guy was intense!”
It’s weird, being in this mansion with Jack and Emerson, like kids trying to play grown-up. The staff makes us dinner—stir-fry chicken and vegetables and chocolate fondue for dessert. Emerson puts on some music and breaks open her parents’ wine cabinet, pouring us each a glass of red.
“This is the sweet one,” she says, swirling the glass in the air as if to look at the color. “I’m getting a taste for it, actually. Something to do when the parents are away. Which is like, all the time.”
“Your parents leave you alone a lot?” Jack asks her.
“Yep. But it’s better this way. They kind of suck at being parents.”
“I know how that goes.”
I smile as the two banter back and forth. They may not be best friends after tonight, but it’s a start.
“C’mon, let’s dance,” Emerson says, pulling me to my feet. I laugh as she swings me around, though after three rounds I start to get a little dizzy.
“Okay, okay,” Jack says, removing my hand from hers. I lean against him, the wine making my head just slightly fuzzy after only a few sips. No more for me. “Are you okay?” he asks, tilting my chin up slightly. He’s so close—a couple inches more and we’ll be kissing.
“Jack,” I say, and it comes out more like a sigh.
He stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s crazy, the effect you saying my name has on me.”
“What effect does it have?” I ask, trailing my fingers down his arm and noting that I’m not the only one with goose bumps.
“I think your grandfather would strongly disapprove of the effect it has on me,” he murmurs, kissing my temple. He spins me around a couple of times, making me laugh.
“I love you.” The words slip out of my mouth before I realize it. I stop, backing away from him and into a chair, almost knocking it over. Crap. “I…I didn’t mean…”
We stare at each other for a long moment. His eyes are tight at the corners, and I’m sure I look completely freaked out. I don’t even know if the words are true. Not anymore. But if they are, I certainly didn’t mean to say them out loud.
Emerson clears her throat. “Just friends,” she mutters.
My face grows hot as Jack says, “I think it’s time we called it a night.” He looks at Emerson. “Maybe you should help her upstairs?”
“I’m not drunk,” I tell him a little too loudly, jerking my arm away from him. Does he think that’s why I said it?
Was it?
“And don’t tell me what to do,” I
add loudly. The woman clearing the dining table looks over at us. I hope she doesn’t tell anyone we were drinking wine, especially my grandfather. Emerson’s parents probably wouldn’t care.
I grab Emerson by the arm and pull her toward the staircase. “Maybe you should pull out the sofa for Z,” I tell her, forgetting for a second that she had the guest room already made up for him.
“Who’s Z?” she asks.
“Never mind.”
...
The house is quiet. I’ve been in this room for two hours doing nothing but staring at the clock, the ceiling, the stuffed animals in their corner hammock. Emerson got Jack settled in his room with an extra toothbrush and towels and stuff, then came back to her room and went to sleep after grilling me for a while. Mostly she wanted to know about why I said I loved him. It really seemed to bug her. I told her I had no idea, that it must’ve been the wine. I pretended I was too tired to talk after that.
Truthfully, even though I know I shouldn’t have said it, it hurt that he didn’t respond at all. It made me feel like a naïve girl who put a note in his locker asking if he liked me, circle yes/no. I have to remind myself that he’s been gone for eight months, only back now because I’m being stalked. Like last time, worrying about me when I was a lonely foster kid in a crappy situation.
Grandfather, Emerson, Jack—everyone’s worried about me. But I’m tired of it. Right now, I just want to be wild and have someone to be wild with. Jack used to be that guy—the one who’d take me on long rides on his Ducati, kickstarting my adrenaline when he sped up to avoid cops. Really, I am glad he’s deeper than that. But sometimes I miss the danger and excitement of being with Z.
I toss and turn for a few more minutes, then slide out of bed and slip on my shoes and Em’s fluffy pink robe. I make my way to the balcony doors, opening them to the cold, quiet night. The white snow is now just a light, ghostly blanket. I walk across the balcony, letting my hand brush over the thin layer of flakes on the railing. Not sure why, maybe because it’s so quiet, but I start giggling. Harder and harder, my laughter echoing through the darkness.
Eventually, the cold wins over, and I walk back in and pull the doors shut. I shrug off Em’s robe and drape it on her desk chair, noticing my phone lit up with a text: Why are you still awake?
I text him back. Because I am.
Still mad?
Yeah. I have Grandfather, security guy, Em. Don’t need another babysitter.
Definitely not here to babysit.
I bite back a smile. I can imagine him saying this, looking slightly pissed. I type, Then why are you here?
To hear you laugh.
I put the phone down and resolutely climb back in bed. It’s no good, though. I’m wide awake, my mind full of him.
Before I know it, I’m standing outside Jack’s door. This might be a very bad idea, but I don’t care. For once, I’m going to do something without thinking it through. Just for me—just once.
I turn the knob.
Jack is standing by the window, shirtless, the paleness of his skin gleaming in the moonlight. He turns as I close the door behind me and walk toward him. His eyebrows twitch slightly. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
I stop a few feet from him, a little embarrassed now. I guess I’d pictured him opening his arms to me and picking me up and all the romantic crap you see in movies. This was a stupid idea. “Just checking to see if you’re good here. Okay, so good night.”
“Liv.”
His voice is frustrated, tinged with something else I think I recognize. His eyes search mine for something he can’t seem to find. Maybe he’s afraid of being too close to me. That would make sense for the side of him known as Z, the boy who stayed tough on the outside and pushed everyone away so he didn’t have to feel.
I walk toward him slowly. Something about his fear turns my steps from uncertain to confident, his eyes filled with something so much more than the desire I’ve seen before in his gaze. It’s a real need that mirrors my own. He closes his eyes, swallowing hard as I reach him. I trail a finger down his arm and let my fingers slide through his. “Jack,” I say softly.
He cups my face in his hands, the emotion in his gaze burning into my heart, a brand that’s been there since the day I broke through the hardened Z to find the real Jack underneath. He leans forward, resting his forehead on mine.
“I don’t think you—”
“You think too much,” I tell him softly. I reach up to touch his cheek, letting my fingers explore the roughness along his jawline. I slide my hands behind his shoulders, trailing the lines of muscle in his back. His hands set me on fire as they brush over my curves. He lifts me as I sink into his kiss.
I don’t come up for air until morning.
Chapter Eighteen
JACK
The sun’s barely cracked the sky and I’m already awake, staring at the sleeping girl next to me, wondering what the hell I finally did right to deserve this. To deserve her.
Maybe I don’t.
I gently lift her dark hair over her shoulder. Her skin is so smooth, like pale satin. My fingers trail over a pink scar I’ve never seen that reaches from the base of her neck to her shoulder blade.
She stirs at my touch, her eyes flicking open to meet mine. “Hey,” she says sleepily.
“Hey.” I smile at her, probably the first real smile I’ve been able to manage in months. “You okay?”
She laughs lightly, blushing. “Yes. I didn’t expect to spontaneously combust or anything.”
I brush my finger along her arm, causing a deeper red flush to move across her cheeks. God, she’s beautiful. Which I tell her. I’ll tell her all the time to bring out that smile. “Regrets?”
“No. You?”
“Definitely not.”
She smiles, but it fades as she looks over my shoulder. “Shoot. It’s six thirty. I’m going to be late for school if I don’t get up now.”
“Stay with me, then. I can help you change your grades later.”
“Funny.” She punches me lightly on the arm, then cuddles into my chest. “I know this doesn’t change anything between us.”
I don’t say anything, though I wonder what that means for her. She’s right about it not changing things for me—my heart was lost to her a long time ago. She told me after dinner that she loved me, and I never said it back. I don’t even know why, except maybe it scares me to think I could hurt her again.
I stroke her back, my fingers once again finding the slight rise of the scar. “How’d you get this?” I ask.
She stills. “You don’t want to know.”
I get up on one elbow to stare at her. “Hell yeah I do.”
“It was a long time ago. This lady I lived with got mad because I broke a piece of her good china. She had a really bad temper.” She rests her hand on my waist, curving around it to pull me close to her again. “I don’t want to relive all the old memories, Jack. I’m trying to stay in front of them.”
I lean over to press my lips to her shoulder. She deserves so much better than what she’s gotten. I hope she really is over all the shit in her life, but I doubt it. I know I’m not.
A knock sounds at the door, and Emerson calls out, “Wake up, lovebirds. Time for school.”
“Jeez, Em,” Liv says, and I smile as she scurries around to get dressed. “You have school too, you know,” she adds, throwing a sock at me.
I shake my head. “I’ll be doing some research today. Checking out Frank, talking to Jen.”
She straightens, her eyes worried. “I know Jen hasn’t been very nice, and if she did this, that really sucks. Just don’t be too mean, okay? She hates you for a reason—just keep that in mind.” She kisses me lightly.
I take longer than Liv to get ready, mostly because I know Emerson will have a million questions for her this morning, and I don’t think she’d want me around to listen to them. It goes beyond that, though. Emerson doesn’t like me. Not that I can blame her, but every time she looked at me yester
day, I could see she was judging me and I was falling short. I’m guessing her feelings about me will have deteriorated today.
I’m glad Liv has a friend like her, though. If she was too accepting of me, I’d be more worried.
By the time I dress and make it downstairs, I can hear Emerson and Liv talking in the dining room.
“I’m happy for you. Really, I am,” Emerson is saying. But the flat tone in her voice says otherwise.
“You were okay with him yesterday.”
“That was before he took advantage of my friend. I assume you were careful?”
“Em!”
“Well?”
“Yes, Mom.” Liv’s voice sounds muffled, like she’s covering her face with her hands.
She sighs. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into with him. I don’t trust him.”
“Then trust me,” Liv tells her. “I’m one of the most skeptical people on the face of the planet, and I trust him. That should be enough.”
Emerson sighs loudly. “Okay, fine. Now give me all the details.” Her voice is lighter. Whoa, I do not want to hear this. I step around the corner and the girls both look at me, flushed.
“Good morning, Emerson. Thanks for letting me stay here last night.” I walk over to give Liv a kiss on her cheek as I sink into the chair next to her.
“No prob. Roads are clear, so you can head back where you came from now.”
“Em!” Liv says, frowning at her, but I laugh.
“I’ll do that.”
Emerson looks at Liv. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.”
“Oh, shoot, I left my stuff upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
When she’s gone, Emerson turns a glare on me. I hold up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry, I’m not here to screw around with Liv. Trust me.” I smile brightly, but Emerson scowls.
“You’ve already screwed around with her. And I don’t trust you at all. If anything happens to her, I’m coming after you, got it? I have money so I can hire people to finish you off for me.”
I raise my eyebrows at her threat. Impressive. “Got it.”
“Breakfast?” She pushes a plate of toast at me but I shake my head.