Cupping her face, I force her to look at me, and the emotion in her eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I say again for the thousandth time.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” she whispers. “It’s just… I lived in the dark for so long, Ryder, and the thought of being forced back into it is terrifying. I know I said my life was easier before, but…” Her breath catches and she shakes her head, frustrated. “Never mind, it makes no sense.”
“Yeah, baby, it does. It makes complete sense.”
She gives me a sad smile. “Sorry I worried you.”
Worried is a major fucking understatement; she scared the living shit out of me. But I keep that to myself, not wanting to make her feel worse. “It’s okay.”
Leaning over, I turn back on her lamp then I stand up to shut off the light. She startles from the sudden movement and quickly wraps her arms around my neck. I walk us back over to the bed then turn down her covers before laying her down and stretching out next to her. She tenses in surprise. “Let me hold you for tonight, Em,” I whisper, not wanting to be away from her. “Please, baby. Just this, nothing else, I promise.”
She relents with a sigh then turns on her side to face me. I don’t hold back from wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her in close. “Tell me about you,” she whispers.
“What do you want to know?”
She shrugs. “Anything and everything. What have you been doing the last six years? What made you decide to become an FBI Agent and not a motorcycle shop owner?” She gives me a sassy smirk, throwing my cover back in my face. I’ll take it because it’s better than her being pissed at me.
I take a deep breath and try to figure out where to start. “When I moved to Florida I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to major in. I was so pissed and fucked up after leaving you that I thought about not even going to college.” Pain flashes in her eyes, the same pain that I felt all those years ago. I quickly move on, not wanting to dwell on that part. “I actually considered joining the Army, but after all the effort Mrs. Johnson went through to get me there I figured I owed it to her to at least take a couple of courses. One of them was criminology, and not only did I end up liking it but I kicked ass at it.” She smiles. “I don’t know how to explain it but I knew right away I wanted to do something along the lines of law enforcement. I thought about looking into a few different police departments to find out exactly what I needed, but before I could Professor Roth approached me. He asked if I had ever thought about looking into the FBI. When I got back to my dorm I researched the hell out of it and knew it was what I wanted to do. It’s not easy to get into, they get thousands of applicants, but I got lucky because my Professor knew someone over there. Frank Reynolds, who is now my boss, saw my grades and brought me into the internship program. I worked my ass off to prove myself, and I guess it paid off because here I am.”
She watches me with her smile still in place. “I’m not surprised. I always knew whatever you did you would kick ass at.” Her words have me feeling all sorts of shit. “So what exactly do you do, Officer Jameson?” she asks with a smile.
“It’s Special Agent Jameson, baby.”
She arches a brow doubtfully. “Special Agent?”
“Yeah, the FBI is a little different. We aren’t referred to as officers. Check my badge if you don’t believe me.”
“That’s all right. I’ll take your word for it.”
I smirk. “Does that make you hot, Em.”
“Hardly,” she replies dully, but her blush gives her away.
I chuckle. “To answer your original question at what I do, I work in the Criminal Investigative Division.”
“Which means what exactly?” she asks, seeming genuinely interested.
“It means we deal with numerous types of investigations. It could be financial crime, violent crime, organized crime, public corruption, and violation of individual civil rights. There’s a lot.”
She watches me for a moment, her expression suddenly somber. “What category does my father fall into?”
I think of how to answer. I don’t want to make her feel worse but I decide to tell her the truth. “Honestly, if he’s guilty of everything he’s suspected of then he falls under a whole bunch of shit.”
“He’s probably going to prison for a long time, isn’t he?”
The sadness in her voice has me feeling like shit. The truth of the matter is, if he’s convicted of what I suspect he’s done, he will be lucky if life in prison is all he gets. “Yeah, baby, probably.”
She nods sadly. “I know he deserves it. What he’s doing is horrible, but there’s a small part of me, deep inside, that feels bad. I know I shouldn’t, he’s never cared about me, but I can’t seem to help it.”
“You care because you’re a good person, it’s just how you’re wired, Em.” She’s definitely a better person than me, because I don’t give a shit about my parents. She stays silent, but burrows her face into my chest. I quickly register her silent tears against my skin. Pulling her in closer, I kiss the top of her head. “Everything will be okay, Em. I promise I’ll help you get through this.”
I feel her nod, and that’s the last of our conversation. It isn’t long before I feel her breathing even out and her body relax. Even though there are thousands of reasons why I shouldn’t, I can’t help but feel a peace I haven’t felt in over six years. One only Emily has ever been able to bring me.
Chapter 17
Ryder
The next day I’m sitting at the kitchen table watching Em bustle around the kitchen, talking on the phone to Rosa. “Okay, we will come by after lunch then,” she says. “Yes, I promise I’m fine, but I need to talk to you and I want to do it in person.”
I get pulled from their conversation when I hear the door rattle as someone attempts to get in. Emily hears it and starts over, but I put my hand up to keep her back. My suspicion quickly turns into annoyance when I look through the peephole to see Cece reefing on the doorknob and banging her hip into the door, trying to get in. Unlocking it, I swing it open fast and she comes stumbling in. I grab hold of her just before she face plants.
She steadies herself then glares up at me. “Jameson,” she snaps in greeting.
“Kensington,” I mock.
Her eyes narrow even more. “What are you doing here? Where is my friend?” she asks suspiciously, as if I have done something to her. “And why was the door locked? What have you been up to?”
I roll my eyes, but before I have a chance to shut her up Emily comes in. “I’m right here. Sorry, I was on the phone with Rosa.”
“Why on earth was your door locked? It’s never locked.”
It irritates the fuck out of me to know that. “It’s so people don’t just walk in like they own the place,” I tell her, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
She scoffs and lifts her big ass purse higher on her shoulder. Seriously, the girl’s purses are the size of fucking luggage.
“Well, it clearly isn’t doing a very good job at keeping criminals out,” she replies sassily.
If only she knew how far from a criminal I am, but her perception of me has always been skewed, just like everyone else’s around this fucking place.
“Okay you two, that’s enough,” Emily cuts in. “And to answer your question about the door – I haven’t left the house yet this morning. I only took Summer out in the back today, so it’s still locked from last night.”
“It should always stay locked,” I say firmly. Both girls roll their eyes at me, not taking me seriously, which jacks my irritation up another notch.
Shaking my head I go take a seat on the couch.
“Anyway, I was on my way to my meeting with the social committee and thought I would stop by to check on you. I tried calling yesterday afternoon to come by but your cell went straight to voicemail.” She darts a suspicious glance my way again, as if that’s my fault.
“I know, sorry, I slept the day away after getting into it with my parents.”