Page 75 of First Touch

“There could be others still in danger.” He was quieter now. “Others that might be saved if we can figure out what happened with Amber.”

He wants to keep investigating. It was a surprise flip of tables from when we’d first met and I was pleading and Joe was skeptical. “You said you didn’t want to get in this deep,” I reminded him.

He shrugged. “So I lied. I’m invested now. Let me find out what happened to her.”

My voice was tight so I simply nodded. Once I swallowed down the ball in my throat, I said, “But no more looking into Reeve. I meant it when I said I didn’t want this in the way of my relationship with him.”

He let out a reluctant sigh. “Okay. Okay,” he finally conceded. “I’ll make up something when I bill you. I’ll charge you for shooting lessons or something.”

I forced a smile that I couldn’t hold. “I’ll see what I can find out through Reeve. I haven’t dug nearly as deep as I can.”

Joe’s expression grew concerned yet again. “You can’t save her anymore, Emily. You don’t need to do anything risky.”

“I know.”

“Okay. Because if you have any reason to think it’s not safe, I can help you get away from him.”

Was it fucked up that I didn’t even consider it? “I told you, I’m —”

“I know, I know. You’re fine.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “I’ll get you another burner phone. In the meantime, don’t use your cell to call me.”

“Be careful,” we both said in unison. At least I was pretty sure that one of us would take the advice.

Numbly, I paid for my drink, which I tossed on the way out the door. I sat in the car in a daze, letting the engine idle as blame came in the form of “if only.” If only I’d heard the message sooner. If only I’d visited my mother more often. If only I’d tried to contact her when I saw her picture in that magazine. If only I’d never left her. She’d saved me, and when I had the chance to return the favor, I’d let her down.

I beat my fist on the steering wheel, again, again, wanting it to hurt, wanting to feel better. Behind me, a car honked. All the pumps were in use and I was hogging the one I was parked in front of, but I leaned out my window and cursed at the other driver anyway. Then I took off, giving the bird as I pulled out into traffic.

I drove mindlessly, not paying attention to where I was or what time it was. Drove in complete silence. Even the thousand thoughts that wanted a spotlight in my head were respectfully reticent, as though granting a moratorium while I dealt with how to just be in a world without Amber. How to keep my heart beating and my lungs operational. How to keep my car on the road, in the correct lane, obeying the traffic signs.

After a while – minutes, hours, I didn’t know – the reprieve tapered off and half-ideas slipped in with the conviction of plans. Promises. Reeve’s cousins. His guest room. Get to his ranch. His staff. The common thread always him. He was my only chance for finding out what happened to Amber. He might not have all the answers, but he had some.

By the time I turned the Jag toward his house, he was pulling me in other ways. Distraction. Comfort. Reason. Preoccupation. He was the source of everything I needed now. The path to closure, an asylum for pain, a place to find truth, a place to hide.

For good or bad, all roads led back to him. Perhaps that’s what it meant to really be his.

CHAPTER 21

It was a quarter after ten when I arrived at Reeve’s. If I got punished for being late, so be it. I welcomed it. I deserved it.

I took a minute to fix my makeup before going in, thankful I wore waterproof mascara. A staff member I didn’t recognize let me in without any greeting or instruction. It was fine. I knew where I was supposed to be and I hurried toward my destination in case Reeve was already waiting for me.

As I crossed the living room, I heard men’s voices and the distinct sound of a pool rack being broken. I might not have been compelled to look in if I hadn’t also heard women’s laughter.

Quietly, I went to the threshold of the game room and peeked in. Reeve was there, in loose jeans and a button-down open over a T-shirt, chalking a cue stick as he chatted with another man, indistinctive except for his cowboy boots. Two more men played darts on the other side of the space while two leggy girls that couldn’t have been any older than twenty-two watched on.

A third girl – blond, busty, beautiful – was draped over the pool table, encouraging Reeve to take his turn.

With all the emotions already unfurled and waving in my stomach, it was surprising that such a petty, insignificant feeling as envy could still catch wind and flap with enough noise to notice. But there it was, boldly flown at full mast, drawing my attention. I leaned against the wall, watching them, watching her, as she teased and taunted, and the taste in my mouth grew sour. I was supposed to be in there with them. Three women, four men. I’d have made the teams equal. If I should have found comfort that I hadn’t been replaced with some other bimbo, I didn’t. Odd numbers didn’t have to mean anyone got left out.

It didn’t escape me that I’d once been one of them – a pretty young thing. A substitute for real emotion dressed in sex and sin.

Aren’t you still one of them? It wasn’t Amber’s voice.

And maybe I was still one of them. But at least this was what I wanted. They were here for the attention and material gain. They were shells waiting to be filled with a man’s desires, blank screens projecting someone else’s wants. Even without reasons connected to Amber, I was here because this was who I was – a strong, independent woman with distinct wants and needs that were only met when I submitted to a man. When I submitted to Reeve.

I stared at him bent over the table, his eyes squinted on the stick and the ball, and found that despite my acceptance of my submission, I was pissed. I didn’t deserve to be tossed aside, no matter how I’d wronged him. If I hadn’t just recommitted myself to finding out the truth about Amber’s death, then I would have walked out. Would have washed my hands of the asshole.

But I would stay, anger and all. For Amber. Which meant I had to channel my anger and ignore the emotion underneath that – fear. It was a different kind of fear than the kind I usually associated with Reeve. Fear that I wasn’t what he wanted. Fear that he didn’t see how easily I could be. Wouldn’t that be the icing on my life?