A knife. I need a knife.
I turn around toward the kitchen, arms at my chest as the blood from where I’d bit my hand begins to run down my arm. Unsteady hands reach for the butcher’s block to retrieve the longest, sharpest blade.
My phone sits discarded on the counter. I slice into the skin of my finger again when I slide it across the broken phone screen to call Tristan. I know better than to call 911 on the police chief’s stepson. Cops all stick together.
Tristan doesn’t answer. The call goes directly to voice mail. I call a second time, hoping he’s just busy. No answer. I call Marley. She answers on the first ring.
She’s laughing. “Hello?”
“Marley.”
“Em? What’s wrong? Emma?”
“He’s here. In Stonefall.”
“What?”
“Gabe is here.”
“Emma, where are you?” Her words are rushed, and I can hear some scratchy noises in the phone as Mateo takes it from her.
“Where are you, Emma?” he demands.
“At home. At my house.”
“Are you alone?”
“My mom is here but she’s sleeping. She takes sleeping pills sometimes. Prescription.”
“Are the doors locked?”
“Where’s Tristan?”
“His phone is dead. He went to the city. Are your doors locked?”
“The doors are locked,” I say. “They’re locked.”
“I’m coming over,” Mateo says. “Don’t. Move.”
My feet do not move, as Mateo instructed, but my heart is palpitating and my body will not stop rocking with tremors.
Minutes pass. A half hour maybe.
There’s a knock at the door.
I stand, knife clutched firmly in my hand, as I look through the peephole.
Mateo is standing on the porch, rigid, as his eyes dart around the yard. I open the door and step back, using the knife as a shield for my chest. Mateo comes through the door, hands up, palms forward. He turns back around and slides the lock into place. “Emma,” he says firmly, “put the knife down, querida.”
I clutch the damned thing tighter, so hard my knuckles are white and my nails dig crescent moon shapes into my palm.
He takes another tentative step toward me. “Look at me, Emma.” When he speaks, his accent, never before so pronounced, sounds beautiful saying my name.
I shake my head. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“You can. Give it to me, yeah? I’m here now. Marley went to wait for Tristan at his apartment.”
“He said he’d be here. He said he’d be here to protect me,” I say, feeling the hysteria beginning to take shape again. “He’s not here.”
“He just went to run an errand,” Mateo reasons. His voice is low, even, and measured. “You need to give me the knife, mamacita.”
He holds out his hand expectantly and as I extend my own to place the knife in his, the blade rattles up and down. I almost lose my grip, and the sharp edge nicks me by mistake, slicing my already bloodied hand with how hard I’m shaking. He takes the knife and sets it down, before bringing his hands to grip my shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re okay. Just take a breath.”
I try, but it’s like swallowing nails.
Mateo doesn’t break eye contact with me. “Do it like this, okay?” He breathes in through his nose, a long and drawn-out intake of air, before he releases it through his mouth, equally long and dramatic.
The breeze outside shakes the windowpane and I’m temporarily distracted, my eyes darting to the side.
Mateo shakes me a little to bring me back. “No. Emma. Look at me. Big, deep breath in and deep breath out. Got it?”
I nod.
“Okay, do it with me.”
I start to breathe the way Mat has demonstrated. It feels like an eternity before my heart stops trying to escape from my chest and the shaking of my limbs subsides.
Mateo leads me to the kitchen sink and starts a stream of water to tend to my hand. “Tell me what happened.”
Tristan
I’ve picked a gift for Emma that I think is just about perfect. It was definitely worth the two-hour drive. It’s a bracelet made of tiny, delicate links with a single charm: a dragon.
I think it’s symbolic of her journey so far, since she’s learning to slay the dragon.
Jenny Jenkins is standing at a hot dog vendor on a street corner and when she sees me, her face lights up.
“Tristan Banks, what brings you to the city?”
I hold up my bag. “Shopping?”
“Carter’s, huh?” she says, eyeing it. “In the market for a new watch?”
“No. I was getting something for my girlfriend.”
She exchanges cash for a hot dog and turns, her eyebrow inching up her face. “Your what?”
“My girlfriend.”
Sure, I’ve slept with Jenny and sure, I enjoyed every second, but at the core of every conversation we had was the idea that neither of us was looking for any kind of commitment. Jenny is surprised.
“Tristan Banks with a girlfriend,” she says. “Fancy that.”
“That’s what I thought,” I tell her.
“So, who is the lucky girl who tamed you?”
“Her name is Emma.”
“Wait, is she the import? The new girl? Hot, tall brunette.”
“Sounds about right,” I say.
“Tristan,” Jenny says, nodding in approval. “Nicely done.”
“Thanks. She’s pretty amazing.”
Jenny smiles and reaches out to touch my shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she says. “You’re pretty amazing too.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you around, okay?”
“I look forward to it. Oh, and Tristan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure she’ll love whatever it is you bought her.”
“I hope so.”
During the drive back, I feel as if something is not quite right. Something in my gut is issuing a warning, and when I park the truck at my apartment and see Marley sitting on the steps, cell phone to her ear and her legs bobbing up and down like mad, I’m freaked.
I close the door to the truck, leaving my bag on the passenger seat, and Marley bolts to her feet.
“Tristan,” she says. “You’re back.”
“Where’s Mat? Is everything okay?”
She shakes her head. “No. No, we need to go to Emma’s place.”
My heart leaps into my throat. “Emma. What happened to Emma?”
“Gabe. He’s here. In Stonefall.”
I hardly let her finish her words before I am headed back to the truck. “C’mon.”
She slides into the truck beside me and Emma’s gift falls to the floor of the passenger seat.
The drive to Emma’s place feels like it takes just as long as the commute to the city.
I tear out of the truck and bolt to the front door, nearly winding myself as I shove my body against it, hoping it will open. “Emma!” I yell from outside. “Em!”
Mateo swings the door open and I almost send him flying to his ass as I push past him. Emma is at the counter, running her hand under water. Swirls of crimson mix with the clear stream and my eyes dart to her hand, which is bleeding. She doesn’t even see me, her gaze fixed on the stream of water.
“Emma,” I say softly.
She turns to look at me. Her eyes are filled with fear, with terror, and I wasn’t here when she needed me. I wasn’t here. Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave.
I turn off the tap and reach for a paper towel before wrapping her hand in it.
“He’s here,” she says.
I cup her face in my hands. “Shhh,” I tell her. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t you get it? It’s not okay. He�
��s going to kill me.”
“He’s not going to touch you,” Mateo and I say at the same time.
“Emma,” I say. “Listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I swear it.”
“He’s going to kill me,” she repeats.
“You need to be strong right now,” I say. “You can’t let him control you.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t need to know what to do,” I tell her. “I’ll figure that part out. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here, but that will never happen again, okay? I promise.”
Emma sinks into my arms as she starts to cry again. “I’m so scared.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. What I don’t say is that I’m scared too.
TWENTY-FOUR
Emma
I thought Tristan would make it better. But here he is, in the flesh, arms wrapped around me securely, and I’m still terrified. He pushes away for a moment, long enough to grab a dish towel from the handle on the stove and fashion it around my wound: a temporary bandage.
“I don’t think you need stitches,” he mutters.
Everything is still blurry, but even through the murkiness of my own sadness, I can see Tristan’s eyes and there is no mistaking it . . . they’re unsettled. Normally when they look at me I see desire, affection, and infatuation. Not worry and angst.
“I’m staying here tonight,” he says softly.
“I’m not going anywhere either,” Marley adds matter-of-factly. “That is—if that’s okay with you.”
I nod.
Mateo sits down on the couch, placing his right foot on top of his left knee, and settles back. “Looks like it’s going to be a good old-fashioned sleepover. Who wants pizza?”
Marley turns toward him. “I swear pizza is one of your food groups.”
“It is,” Mat says. “Undoubtedly. I need fuel for this body.”
“In the form of fat and carbs?”
“Yes,” Tristan and Mateo answer at the same time.
Despite myself, I let out a small laugh and breathe out. How long has my breath been trapped? The idea of Tristan being beside me and Mateo being in the house offers much relief.
“I am going to run you a bath, Emma,” Marley says.
Tristan nods. “Good idea.”
“I’ll order pizza,” Mateo says.
Marley looks at him, genuinely surprised. “You were actually serious? We just ate.”
“Like two hours ago. I’m starving, Beauty.”
She blushes at his nickname for her and spins on her heel to lead the way to our bathroom.
We make our way up the stairs and I notice my mom’s door is slightly ajar. There is a fan in the corner blowing stale, stagnant air. Mom’s room is minimalist, with not much more than a bed, a dresser, a lamp, and a closet.
Marley stops in front of the door. “Your mom sure has changed,” she whispers.
I nod. “She has.”
“Do you think we should wake her?”
“No. She takes Halcion to help her sleep,” I say. “The four horsemen of the apocalypse wouldn’t be able to wake her.”
“Halcion?” Marley opens the door to the bathroom down the hall, twisting the taps on the tub. “Isn’t that like equal to horse tranquilizers?”
“Not quite,” I say, “but they’re pretty strong.” There was a time or two when I considered taking them myself, but then Tristan came along and I’ve been able to sleep . . . until tonight, I’m sure.
Marley squeezes a pink bottle into the running water and immediately bubbles float on the surface. It looks inviting and without really thinking about it, I unzip the hoodie I have on and pull off my shirt and let them fall to the floor.
Marley is swishing her hand around in the water to encourage the bubbles to foam when she turns her attention to me. Her eyes fall to my stomach and she fumbles, almost dropping the bottle into the water.
I realize my mistake instantly and cross my arms over the scar to do my best to hide it. “Shit. Sorry.”
Marley’s eyes well with tears. “Did he . . . ?” She stops, unable to finish.
“Yeah,” I say. “Can you turn around?”
“Of course.” She sets the bottle down and turns so she’s looking out the window while I slip into the tub, careful to keep my injured hand free of the water.
“Okay.”
She turns again, sitting on the edge of the tub. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything except what happened tonight. I’m too scared for that.”
“We don’t have to talk about what happened,” she says, “but I want to say one thing. He’s probably just trying to terrorize you, and if you give in to the fear, you’re empowering him to do that. Mateo and Tristan won’t let anything happen to you. I’m sure of it.”
When did Marley get so smart? “I know,” I tell her. “That’s why my meltdown scale went from stage red to a yellow.” I don’t want to say any more, so I lean back and close my eyes. “Tell me about you. How are things with Mateo?”
I can tell by the inflection in her voice that she’s smiling. “Perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“Perfect,” she echoes.
“Could it be true?” I place my hand over my heart mockingly. “Has Marley finally found the man of her dreams?”
“It’s true,” she says. “We haven’t exactly sealed the deal, but,” she pauses, “it’s only a matter of time. God. I haven’t had sex in forever.”
I open my eyes. “That surprises me.”
Her eyebrow inches up her face. “You say that like I’m the town floozy.”
“Not at all, but you’re young and beautiful and Marley Scott. That’s why it surprises me.”
She sighs, her voice dropping. “I’m kind of scared.”
“Of sex?”
“Of sex with Mateo. He’s so freaking intense all the time.”
“It’s part of his charm.”
“It’s charming, but I feel so dull sometimes by comparison. I don’t see the world the same way he does.”
“Marley, you are the last person I would call dull. And you don’t have to see the world the same way. That’s what makes it interesting.”
“I know.”
“So don’t worry about it. He worships you. I’m sure it’ll translate to the bedroom.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She stands and begins to rummage through the medicine cabinet for a first aid kit.
“I’d be less afraid and more excited if I were you.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Was it hard for you? I mean, given everything that’s happened. Weren’t you terrified?”
“At first,” I admit. “I was totally scared, but something just clicked. Tristan is it for me. He’s the one.”
Her eyes widen.
“He’s my forever,” I say quietly. “I’m sure of it.” The words sound like they’re coming from someone else. A voice-over narrating my life.
“That’s pretty serious, Em. Are you really sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, “I am.”
Marley grabs me a towel and dutifully turns her head away while I exit the tub and slip into pj’s. “I have extra sets of pajamas in my room,” I tell her. “They’ll probably be too long for you, but you can roll up the pants. Second drawer of the dresser.”
“Thanks,” she says. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
When I make my way down the stairs, my panic has virtually evaporated, and although I’m nervous, and my stomach is still fluttery, the sheer terror of the situation has subsided. The smell of pizza lingers in the air and two large boxes are on the counter. Tristan is getting plates and glasses for soda. His gaze is on me the minute I walk in. “Feel better?”
I
nod. “Yes, but not well enough to eat. Where’s Mateo?”
“He handed me the pizza and went outside to check around your house to make sure everything is secure.”
Marley comes in the kitchen. “Now I’m hungry.”
“That’s one of the many reasons you are amazing, Beauty,” Mateo says, coming in the door. “My girl will eat pizza and junk food with me at one in the morning.” He looks at Tristan first, then me. “All good. You can sleep soundly tonight, Em.”
Tristan
Emma. My darling, my love, my everything. She didn’t sleep last night. Neither did I. Instead, I watched her wrestle with the demons that haunt her, same way I used to watch Katie. I looked out the window and saw one star shining brighter than the others. I wished on it. I wished on it like I was some child who believes in magic. I wished on Katie’s star.
I wished for justice for Emma. I wished for her to find solace once and for all.
I feel her watching me, so I open my eyes and reach out to brush her hair behind her ear. “Morning.”
She smiles. “Good morning, Tristan.”
She’s going through hell yet she smiles when she sees me.
I kiss her forehead.
“We should stay in bed all day,” she says.
I love this idea, but it’s Tuesday. “I’d love nothing more, Emma Fletcher, but I have to work today.”
“I know,” she says ruefully.
“Which means you also have to work today.”
“Noted,” she says, tossing the covers to the side. She rises and pads barefoot in the direction of the shower. I make her bed, rake my hands through my hair, and head to the kitchen. Emma’s mother is there, drinking a cup of coffee. I thought she’d be surprised to see me, but if she is, she’s got a great poker face.
I stop. Maybe I should go back to Emma’s room.
Her mom pulls a chair out.
Guess not.
“Hi,” I mutter.
“Good morning,” she says. “Sleep well?”
I’m honest. “No. Not really.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“S’okay.” I nearly tell her I didn’t come here to sleep, but common sense stops me.
Before anything can get any more awkward, Marley comes out from the spare room, Mateo right behind her.
The Enchantment of Emma Fletcher Page 22