“It’s not that I want to lie to them about it. I just don’t want them to know,” she said.
“It’s not a lie if you just tell them part of the truth. Say you fell or something, if anyone notices the wrap, because that is true. You did fall.” Silas ran his fingers down the length of her hair.
“Sorta sounds like a white lie, doesn’t it?” she questioned.
“It’s none of their business. It’s your life to tell or keep to yourself.” He shook his head and shrugged. “So, it’s not a lie. You are just being private.”
Emmie bit her lip. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that logic. Silas turned his back to her and grabbed his suit coat. “Do you do that to me?”
It didn’t escape her notice that he froze for a moment as he slipped his arms through the sleeves. He didn’t answer her. She cleared the space between them and grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her.
“Because I don’t want you to. I want to know everything about you. Good, bad, and whatever comes in between. Okay?” she asked.
He nodded and leaned down to kiss her temple. “I know. I love you. But we really do need to go.” He reached around her, snapped her suitcase closed, and picked it up from the bed.
Silas walked toward the door. Emmie stood for a moment and processed the fact that he hadn’t really answered her. She opened her mouth to push the argument but thought better of it. That conversation would happen but right now probably wasn’t the best time.
As she stepped out of the narrow hall Emmie saw the living area in the apartment for the first time. The entire length of the back wall was composed of arched windows. It was beautiful. She saw the horizon she had searched for early this morning and a massive body of water. The boys were talking. They may have even been talking to her but she couldn’t focus on them. She moved to the windows. Her mouth fell open. She touched the glass. It was cold under her fingertips. She was so high up, six or seven stories maybe. Boats floated lazily across the water. The buildings were arranged like puzzle pieces filling every nook and cranny in the horizon. But there was a horizon, just as beautiful as home.
“It’s a nice view,” Trick said from next to her.
She turned and smiled at him. “It’s lovely. I didn’t know the city could be so pretty.”
Trick took a swig of his cup. “Want some coffee? There’s still some on the stove.”
Emmie rubbed her arms for warmth. The windows were beautiful but drafty. “I’d love some.”
Gabe was standing by the door with his coat on, arms crossed over his chest. “Emmie we don’t have time for that. You can have coffee at Ava’s.”
“Oh, sure. That’s fine.” Emmie gave him an understanding smile. “Of course you are in a hurry to see her. It’s been a long time.”
Gabe just nodded and reached to grab Emmie’s coat from the rack behind him.
“Get out. If you are in such a damn hurry, get the hell out,” Silas shouted, pointing to the door.
“Silas, no. It’s fine. I’ll have coffee at Ava’s. I’ll be glad to see her too.” She walked over and laid her hand on his back.
He jerked away from her touch. “No. I’m tired of his attitude. You want to be an ass? Be an ass to me. You will not tell her if she can have coffee or not.”
“Silas, you will not ruin her reputation here. It’s not like she doesn’t already have her mother’s history working against her. You know what people would say if they knew she stayed with you last night . . . like you were her sugar daddy pulling her out of the sticks in return for a few tricks. Is that what you want?” Gabe asked with a sneer.
Emmie’s mouth actually fell open at his words. What in the world was wrong with Gabe? There were no more words. The sound of punches and the sight of two grown men rolling on the floor fighting was more than she could take.
“Stop,” she screamed and dove into the brawl.
She pulled at anything she could find: shirts, pants, legs, hair. It was all fair game. It took her a few minutes to notice Trick was there too. Silas pulled his elbow back and it clocked Emmie right in the jaw. She fell to the wooden floor, wincing and grabbing her side as she landed.
“Emmie, step back,” Silas said. Never taking his eyes off Gabe he briefly but gently touched her jaw. When he opened his mouth to speak again Emmie cut him off.
“Stop it,” she shouted.
The pause gave Trick just enough time to pull Gabe away.
“All right. We’re done,” Gabe shouted, pulling his arms free of Trick.
Silas took a step away from him and turned to where Emmie still lay on the ground. He tilted his head to the side and looked at her red jaw. “You okay, Sweetheart?”
She nodded.
He pulled her up off of the ground. She worked hard to hide the grimace but he saw it anyway. “Your ribs?”
She put her hand up to stop him. “I’m fine. Just give me a second.”
Once she was on her feet Silas turned slowly to look at Gabe. “We are done with this. You will stop taking out your problems on us. I don’t care if you are a friend or family. This shit is done. Do you understand me?”
“I’m not taking anything out on you,” Gabe mouthed back, adjusting his coat. “She is my sister. It’s my job to watch her reputation. Would you let someone take advantage of Jemma while you were two doors down? I think I have been good enough to you.”
This time even Trick seemed to lose his cool. If this conversation didn’t end now, it was going to go from bad to worse.
Emmie moved to Gabe. She put herself between them, resting her hand on his chest, “Gabe. I know you are trying to help. But this . . .” she pointed back and forth between the two of them, “this is not helpful.”
Gabe looked down at her. She noticed something besides anger in his eyes. He was hurt or sad.
She spoke again before either Trick or Silas had the opportunity to. “It’s gonna be hard for us to find our place with each other. But this is not it. I’m in control of me. If I ever needed a protector,” Emmie shrugged, “those days have come and gone. I’m a grown woman.”
Gabe laughed without humor. “Oh no, sweetheart. Those days are just beginning.”
Chapter Three
Trick drove the car. An awkward silence filled the small space. Emmie turned, taking in the faces of the men that surrounded her. Awkward may not be the best word, angry might be better. Something in her gut told her she was missing something. This was about more than Gabe’s dysfunctional idea of brotherly love. She wanted to ask but couldn’t find the right question.
She turned and looked out the window. Emmie had never in her life seen such tall buildings or so many cars. She turned to say something about the cars but again was greeted with silence. After a few more minutes, the buildings gradually turned to houses. They drove for more than a half hour past the tallest building.
“So, Ava doesn’t actually live in the city?” Emmie asked, looking at the changing landscape.
“They used to,” Silas answered. “A few years back they moved to a bigger house just outside Chicago. It’s up here on the left. If you live out of the city you can have houses that open right up to the lake like my apartment but with more privacy.”
Emmie thought about his explanation. Ava had recently mentioned being on boats in the summer. Silas had mentioned boats too. That must be a big thing for them. Emmie had never been on a boat. She craned her neck in-between the two seats in front of her to try and get a better look at the house in the distance.
They turned slowly onto the path, leading to their drive. Up the road she could see the house. Good Lord. Had he said bigger house?
“Silas that is not a bigger house. Nothing about that makes me think of the word house. I live in a house. Bo lives in a house. Ava’s home in Bowling Green is a big house.” She smiled and pointed to the structure in front of them. “That is something from fairy tales.” She laughed. “Manner, estate, mansion. Those would be better words to describe that monster in front of us.”
Two. Eight. Twelve. Sixteen. There were more than eighteen windows in the front of the house. Six of them were huge, more than two stories high. An elaborate roof design with peaks and valleys beautifully set against the clear blue sky. Two brick wings jutted from each side of the main house. Emmie slammed the car door and stood in the lawn with a hand over her mouth. Of all the times Ava had talked about her other home, she had never in her life expected anything like this.
Silas put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the sidewalk. “I’m not sure I’ll be comfortable here,” she said looking at her worn luggage in his hands.
He smiled. “Em. Don’t be prejudiced. They are the same people they’ve always been.”
Emmie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. He was right. She reached down and tried to pull her bag from his hands. She would feel better if she had something of her own in her hands.
“I don’t think so,” he said, pulling it out of her reach.
“I am perfectly capable,” she said anxiously.
“Yes, but my aunt would have my hide if you show up lugging your bags to the door. Let me be a gentleman.”
She laughed and teased him, “I thought we agreed a long time ago that you were not a gentleman.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Gabe mumbled behind them.
She turned and gave Gabe an evil eye.
“At least I’m in good company,” Silas said, never turning around. “I’m surprised you’re even walking to this door.”
Emmie frowned and opened her mouth to ask what they were talking about. Silas pushed her forward with his hand still on her back. Trick was already at the door and had rung the bell. It opened slowly to reveal Ava’s father, Al. He grinned at Trick and turned to greet Emmie and Silas, when something seemed to catch his eye. His face fell into an angry frown as he took in the sight of Gabe.
Chapter Four
Emmie turned to follow Al’s glare. His arm jutted out just past her face and his index finger pointed at Gabe.
“Get off my porch,” he shouted.
“Al. You have to let me see her,” Gabe said quietly.
“Get out,” he repeated.
“I told you you shouldn’t have come,” Silas said, stepping over the threshold.
“You really want to start a conversation about what people should and shouldn’t be doing, my friend?” Gabe asked, darting his eyes to Silas.
Gabe moved closer to the doorway. Trick grabbed his arm and shook his head. He turned around to face Gabe and mouthed silently, “Just go. Take our car.”
“No,” Gabe said aloud, “you have to let me see her. She’s not well.”
“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” Al shouted.
Emmie, already in the entryway, turned to see Ava’s mother, Molly, coming down the stairs that faced the great hall. If it weren’t for the confusion of the fight between Gabe and Al she would have been in awe of the beauty of the house she had just entered. Instead she stared in disbelief at the two most important men in Ava’s life getting ready to come to blows.
“If it weren’t for you she wouldn’t be in this mess,” Al added to his argument.
Gabe’s face fell. Pain settled in his eyes and he looked down at his feet. Without thinking Emmie took a step toward him. Silas grabbed her elbow and stopped her. She frowned up at him.
“Al. It took two,” Molly said softly, grabbing her husband’s shoulder and moving her body in between the two men.
“Trick. Come in, it’s freezing out there,” she instructed. He did so without hesitation. “Gabe, now is not a good time. Your parents are expecting you. We will be in touch soon, son.”
Gabe’s shoulders actually dropped as he exhaled. Emmie had never seen him look so defeated. She made another attempt to move toward him but Silas stopped her again. Before she could question him, Al slammed the door in Gabe’s dejected face.
Well, that wasn’t exactly the warm welcome she’d been expecting. Never before had she seen Ava’s parents so worked up. She glanced around and attempted to take in her surroundings. Ornate sculptures and a tapestry adorned the walls of the entry. A heavy wooden banister led up to a second floor sitting area with a pair of symmetrical hallways on either side. It was beautiful she supposed, but she couldn’t focus on the house. She moved to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the heavy ornate door—the door that had just been slammed in her half-brother’s face. Pulling back the lace covering she watched as Gabe made his way to the car. He sat behind the wheel without driving off, staring back toward the house.
Trick and Silas whispered to one another in one corner of the room. Molly and Al stood in the opposite corner. Ava’s mother nodded in Emmie’s direction and then smiled uneasily at her. Al looked over with a deep-set frown creasing the skin in between his eyes. She had never seen him look so haggard.
“Silas, Trick, please join us for breakfast. I’ve got fresh biscuits in the oven,” Molly said, tucking a stray red curl behind her ear.
“Of course, Aunt Molly,” Trick said with his typical grin.
Emmie watched the scene unfold in front of her in disbelief. Silas grabbed her suitcase and asked which room she’d be in then headed up the stairs to the left-wing hallway. Al gave her a nod hello and headed into a hall on the right wing of the house. Molly stood there smiling at her with her arms outstretched, clearly waiting for a warm embrace.
She worked really hard to push the frown off her face and replace it with a mannerly smile but she just couldn’t do it. What on earth had just happened? And what’s worse, why was everyone acting like it was okay that Gabe had just been run out of the house. Ava and Gabe were still engaged, right? Had he done something to Ava that Emmie didn’t know about? No. That couldn’t be right. He had been so eager to see her.
Molly’s long arms wrapped around Emmie; the smell of her familiar perfume took Emmie home for a moment. She had forgotten that sometimes Molly wore the same perfume as her mother used to wear. The older woman gave her a little squeeze with the hug that caused Emmie to wince. Her ribs. The fall at Silas’s had aggravated the injury.
Molly pulled away and gave Emmie a look of concern, “What’s wrong, girl? Are you hurt?”
Emmie shook her head. She took a deep breath before she spoke. Willing up the courage to do what Silas had told her, she answered, “No, I just fell down pretty hard back home. I’ve always been clumsy you know.” And just like that, the half-truth rolled off her tongue. It tasted bitter and unwelcome, but what else could she do?
Molly squinted her eyes and quirked her mouth to the side. Oh my goodness. She didn’t believe her. Emmie had to think fast. She was not going into the war between the revenuers and the bootleggers. She was not explaining about the cabin or about the apple pie. Emmie looked around for something to bring up . . . something to say. Then it hit her. Something she should have noticed from the get-go.
“Where’s Ava?” Emmie did her best to look carefree.
Now it was her turn to watch Molly squirm. She rubbed her hands together and fiddled with her wedding band before she said, “She’s not feeling well right now. She’s resting.”
Emmie nodded and tried to process the information. “The last time I talked to her she mentioned a stomach flu, but Molly that was days ago.”
Molly reached out and grabbed Emmie’s hands and pulled her through the living room and out into another hall before she spoke. When they reached the entry to the kitchen she finally said, “Just don’t bring up Ava right now. It’s an unpleasant conversation, okay?”
Unpleasant conversation? Emmie’s hand covered her mouth as her stomach dropped through her feet. She could hardly find the words to form the question. “Oh no. Is she dying?”
Molly actually jeered as she replied, “Oh no. I thought her father would kill her but he decided not to. It seems he’s decided to take out Gabe instead.” She stared blankly at the wall, lost in some other moment in time. Then she gave a deep exhale and shoo
k her head. “No, child. Don’t worry yourself. It’s nothing that a few weeks—or months won’t take care of. She will be fine. Come on. Help me with breakfast.”
While this home was much more expansive than the tiny cabin in the holler on the Johnson’s farm, it was starting to feel just as cold.
“Sure, Molly. What can I do?” she asked, but her mind was still transfixed on Ava.
“Scramble the eggs, please. You can use that skillet over there.” Molly nodded to the stove.
Molly kept talking but Emmie had no idea what she was saying. Emmie laid eyes on the skillet. Black iron. She wrapped her hands around the thick handle and lifted it. It was heavy, too heavy. Her mind flashed back. She was no longer in the state-of-the-art white kitchen. She was standing at the tiny black cook stove. Mr. Thomas was pulling her out the door. No. She couldn’t go with him. She couldn’t. She watched it all happening like a picture show in her mind. She saw her hands wrapped around the skillet. The cracking sound it made as it connected with his head was more than she could bear. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t feel. The skillet in her hands dropped to the floor, landing at her feet. His eyes. Oh God. Forgive me, she thought. His eyes.
“Emmie, Emmie girl?” She heard a voice near her. Someone grabbed her shoulders. Heavy footsteps entered the room. Emmie saw everything around her and nothing at the same time. She struggled to breathe. All of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. She panted.
Silas had heard the crash and found his way to the kitchen. He took in the sight of Emmie standing there. Her eyes were dull as they stared off into space. She panted with each breath. He put his hands on each side of her face. “Emmie,” he said calmly, “look at me. Are you okay?”
It was only at that moment he noticed the iron skillet at her feet and knew where she was in her mind’s eye. Back at the cabin, staring at Mr. Thomas’s lifeless body.
Chapter Five
“Emmie. Mo Chuisle.” His words were soft in her ear.
She could feel his hands on each side of her face. Large and strong. Grounding her back to reality. Mr. Thomas’s face was replaced with Silas’s as the world came back into focus. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and shake the remnants of the shattered images left in her mind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Come Rain or Shine (Shine On Series, Book Three) Page 2