by Geneva Lee
“We received report of the assault,” she continues ignoring his interjection, “this evening.”
“Wait,” he stops her, “who’s claiming I assaulted them?”
“Jake Southerly.”
I gasp and heads swivel in my direction but Jameson’s eyes warn me to stay silent.
“Did you miss me that much, Detective? We both know these charges won’t stick.”
“Be that as it may we have a nice jail cell waiting for you.” She turns to the officer behind her and nods. He walks forward cuffs in hand and begins to read Jameson his Miranda rights.
“Please find Monroe,” Jameson calls ignoring him completely. “Check on her, then take her phone and call my mom.”
I want to defend him and tell Detective Mackey that Jameson was protecting me but from the look in his eyes I know he doesn’t want me to do that. It takes everything I can muster to keep my mouth shut.
“Some date,” he says to me as they haul him toward the elevator.
“Maybe next time we could just grab some dinner,” I suggest. Before they can stop me I run over and kiss him full on the lips. The officer leading him out breaks us apart.
“That’s quite enough!” Detective Mackey warns us. She studies me curiously as we all stand there and wait for the elevator to arrive. When it does, she lets the officer take Jameson inside.
“Just a moment,” she tells him. Then she turns to me. “What does he have on you?”
“Nothing.” I hate her for even suggesting that I can be bought.
“I thought you were a smarter girl than that.” She leaves the proclamation hanging in the air before she disappears into the elevator.
The doors shut and I stand there listening to the throb of music coming from the other room.
“You couldn’t have broken up the party while you were at it,” I say to the elevator doors. Then I steel myself and head back inside.
Monroe is nowhere to be found. I navigate through the crowd, careful to avoid Hugo. Coming around the corner to the kitchen where I cooked for Jameson, I halt as two voices rise angrily. Tiptoeing to the wall I get as close as possible trying to listen in without being seen.
“You have no idea what you saw!”
I peek around the corner and find Monroe and Leighton in a face off. Given Leighton’s knock-off of the Wicked Bitch’s wardrobe, right down to the mournful, black from head to toe. Is imitation still the sincerest form of flattery?
“I would never say anything,” Leighton starts.
No, “It’s about how you’re mistaken because you couldn’t possibly have seen that.”
“But I did,” Leighton says.
God does the girl have any sense of self-preservation about her? Even from here I can see the anger practically vibrating off of Monroe. “I saw him that night with him. I saw what he did to him, and I just want you to know …”
“No,” Monroe cuts her off. “You saw nothing and if you can’t remember that, then remember this: without me you’re nothing. I can destroy you just as fast as I made you.”
I flatten against the wall as Monroe turns and stalks back to the party. Leighton stands there for a moment before she does the same.
What the hell was that about? What had Leighton seen? Why was Monroe so intent on keeping her quiet?
The fragile strands of trust binding my heart to Jameson’s begin to fray. There’s only one thing that Leighton could have seen that would scare Monroe this badly, but if she did why hasn’t she said anything? But I already know the answer. Because she’s scared of what will happen to her. Earlier I decided that I trusted Jameson. Now I have to face the possibility that despite that, he still might not be innocent. He told me himself he was drinking. If he lost his temper, could I blame him for what had happened? Would it change how I felt about him?
I want to believe it couldn’t but as the pit in my stomach grows, I force myself to face the fact that it might. Rushing back into the other room, I search for Leighton. I finally find her near the bar doing tequila shots. I suppose blacking out might be preferable to remembering tonight. She spots me and shakes her head dropping the lime she’s sucking on to the counter.
“You should go,” she suggests. “If Monroe sees you here she is going to lose her mind.”
“Believe me she already knows I’m here.” Grabbing Leighton by her thin wrist, I tuck her away from the cluster of people at the bar and over near the windows overlooking the patio. People brush pat us and the noise offers us cover. “I overhead you talking to Monroe.”
She pales and glances nervously around us. Meanwhile, I keep my back to the crowd. Hopefully if Monroe is circling, she won’t spot us. “I don’t really care what anyone here thinks of me but I do care what they’re saying about my boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend?” she says in confusion. “Look obviously I didn’t see what I thought I saw.”
I want to yank her bleached blonde locks at the root and shake her until she breaks like a piñata. “I heard you,” I repeat. “I just need to know what you saw.”
“Monroe was right,” she says in a hurry. “It probably wasn’t what I thought. I mean why would Jonas …”
“Jonas?” I cut her off. “I thought we were talking about Jameson.”
She blinks rapidly before she giggles. “Jameson? Why would I be talking about him?”
“Maybe because he just got arrested,” I say.
“The Wests have more money than God.” She rolls her eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder like she’s auditioning for a Barbie commercial. “He’ll be playing golf faster than O.J.”
“O.J. sat in prison for nearly two years,” I tell her. “So try again. What were you talking to Monroe about?”
“It has nothing to do with Jameson,” she repeats. “I know he didn’t kill his father, because…”
She breaks off smiling widely at someone over my shoulder. It’s the last thing I see before I’m thrown forward. My mind tries to put together the pieces as I slam into her. A hand. My back. Glass shattering as we crash through it. I don’t have time to think as we fall the few feet onto the concrete.
I've never put much stock in mistakes. Despite the last year of my life, I didn't want my past choices to define me. Now I know I'm doomed to pay for every decision I've made. This is the realization that crashes into me as I fight to stay awake.
Red coats the back of my eyelids as I drift between the real world and the dark. Lights flash, blinding me momentarily as I blink into the rain. It takes a moment for her to come into focus, but when she does everything about her is wrong. Her arms and legs are twisted in unnatural directions like a broken doll. Glass digs into my hands as I claw across the wet pavement toward her. My palm slips as it hits a warm and slippery substance pooling around her head. Her lips are turning blue, but there’s a smile fixed on her face as her eyes stare into the starless midnight sky. She looks happy as if she’s about to greet a friend.
I say her name, I shake her, and then, I scream.
And scream.
And scream.
to be continued…
Don’t you know that sin never sleeps?
Emma Southerly is keeping one eye open,
Jameson West is staring at the ceiling in his jail cell,
and one sinner isn’t waking up at all.
JUNE 27, 2016
Pre-order now!
A Note From Author
Oh, I never thought you’d finish! I’ve been dying to share Jameson and Emma with you for two years, and let me tell you that they’ve changed so much in that time. This series endured a location change, plot changes, and name changes, but the core of the story has always been the same. It’s been a lot of fun building this new world for you. I wanted to try something different this time around. I love wicked cliffhangers but I hate making you wait too long. My solution? Write a fast-paced series of full-length novels that come out more frequently. Right now I’m aiming for no more than a month between books.
As always I love t
o hear from you! Please drop me a line at [email protected], and if you enjoyed this story, please leave a review on your ebook platform. You can also join my mailing list at: http://eepurl.com/LVO81
Love, Geneva
Acknowledgments
Very few people knew about this super secret project until it was finished, so I have to give them major props for being patient with me as I figured out all the twists and turns.
First off, I could not survive without my partner in crime, sister, and business manager, Elise Lee. Copper boom!
Rebecca Yarros, you are the best cheerleader and soul sister that I can imagine. S.L. Scott, your enthusiasm is limitless and I always walk away from my conversations feeling inspired. Shayla, I’m not going to butcher your last name, but thank you for all the late night talks and writing sprints. I’m so blessed to have you all in my life.
Louise Fury, your name suits you. I pinch myself whenever I tell someone I am your client. Thank you for your support and guidance. This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Becca Mysoor, you walked into my world with fabulous lipstick and I knew we would be friends. Your are the sweetest lipstick guru I know and one hell of an editor. Thank you for taking a chance on me.
Janet Wallace, you rock my world. I’m amazed by you every day. I’m so glad you’re on my team!
To the authors who inspire me every single day to keep writing and telling stories by being the genuine article. Thank you, Meredith Wild for raising the bar and limo rides. Audrey Carlan, your beautiful spirit encourages me every day. There are so many others I could name here but it would take another book. I am beyond privileged to be part of this industry with you.
Jackie, thank you for being the glue I need when I’m on deadline.
To the entire Ivy Estate team, you’re making my dreams come true.
To the Loves, I don’t know where to begin. You make me want to write every single day. Thank you for letting me tell you stories.
No book would have a life without its readers. Thank YOU for reading this book. You’re the reason I do this.
And to Josh, I’m so glad that we can talk or not talk all day long. You make me believe in true love.
Also by Geneva Lee
Command Me
Conquer Me
Crown Me
Crave Me
Covet Me
Capture Me
The Sins That Bind Us
Catching Liam
Unwrapping Liam
Two Week Turnaround