Page 26 of Penny
The drive was quiet, and Emily refused to look anywhere but forward. I couldn’t understand why she would try to sacrifice herself the way she did. The girl wasn’t loyal to her and wouldn’t have felt any remorse if the roles were reversed.
I turned us into the parking garage, and the lights illuminating the garage flickered into the cab. Looking in the rear-view mirror, I saw a single tear fall down Emily’s face. She was in a different dimension, and I wanted her here with me and me alone, but we had to deal with Liam’s presence. He would be able to give her things I wouldn’t be able to. He may have been playing his games of manipulation, but she didn’t know that.
The car doors closed with a booming echo, and we made our way to the elevator quietly. Emily’s curly hair swayed on her tailbone, and I was glad she’d decided to rinse away what the hairstylist had done. The stylist had turned her into someone else, and my stomach turned with the thought of changing my Mo Cuishle.
The elevator dinged open to my floor and Emily stood still, looking at the laminate flooring.
“You didn’t finish your dinner. Are you hungry?” I asked, holding the elevator door open for her.
Liam left the small space and waited at the door, not looking back at us. She shook her head in response but looked up at me, stepping backward away from me. My chest stung at her retreat and the way her thick lashes, coated in mascara, were stuck together. Her tears belonged to me, and I hated that the man who’d made me suffer, did the same to her. I’d have to get Liam to go upstairs and grab makeup remover wipes for her.
“Well, come on, then,” I muttered, nodding toward my front door.
Her steps were small, and her shoulders were drooped. My father had broken her spirit faster than I could and it made a regretful ball knot in my stomach. I pulled out my phone and hit unlock to let us in my penthouse. Her high heels clinked on the tiled floor as she tried to retreat to her room.
“Go to the couch,” I commanded with more bite in my tone than I wanted.
She stuttered to a stop, her gaze fixed forward, and curled her hands into fists. Without looking back at me, she made her way to my couch. Liam went to the fridge, and pulled it open, grabbing a soda water.
The room spun as I forced myself not to grab a glass of whiskey. I didn’t know how much Emily had heard, but if I made one more mistake, my father was going to kill me. It wouldn’t be a figurative kill, either; he would drop me in the Hudson River and never look back. I was born first, but if he had it his way, I would have never been born.
The leather couch creaked as she sat, and I took the cushion next to her. I grabbed her cheeks and twisted her face to look at me. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. She was pliable, and my throat tightened. I wanted her to say something, and it didn’t matter what it was at this point. The barrier erected between us made my limbs feel heavy, and I needed it to fucking end.
Liam took the cushion on the other side of her, and his gaze lingered on us.
“What do you need?” I asked, not wanting to try to read the mind of a defeated woman. It wasn’t something I ever wanted to do.
“To be alone,” she mumbled through her puckered lips.
Letting her cheeks go, I dropped my hand to squeeze her knee. “That isn’t an option.” I shifted back to rest on the arm of the couch.
“We can just sit here, and when you are ready to talk about anything, you can. But we aren’t going to force you,” Liam said, forging a ball of deceit hovering above us. It was a lie, and by the way Emily grimaced, I knew she knew. We weren’t in a Kumbaya circle, holding hands and exchanging our favorite types of essential oil.
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into me, turning on the T.V. I searched my library, trying to find something to watch. A nagging voice wanted me to find out what she wanted, but Liam’s lingering stare convinced me not to. She felt like someone who would like to watch crime documentaries. Those shows always pretended they had the insider scoop. What they really had was a spineless rat on the bottom of the totem pole who didn’t know jack shit.
I continued to look down at Emily throughout the night, wondering if she was going to fall asleep. Her breaths were tranquil, but her eyes never drifted closed. My eyes stung from all the hateful glares I gave Liam as he rubbed his hand up her leg. His four-step program ofhow to build a slaved bitchcould take a rest for the night. She needed a moment to rest with me, and I wished he would give us some privacy. Wanting to steal her attention, I squeezed her in closer. She let out a huff but allowed me to move her. Her dress clung to her hips, and she shimmied it down.
“Go get her pajamas and makeup remover wipes,” I barked at Liam, knowing it would make her more comfortable.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though,” she replied, not looking away from the screen.
“I’ll make you comfortable. Okay?” I rasped in her ear, pulling her into my lap. She’d had a long day, and I wanted to see her relaxed. She replied with a miniscule head nod and continued to pretend like I didn’t exist.
My scowl deepened, and I looked over at Liam, wanting him to get off his ass and get her comfortable clothes. Wasn’t like he was paying rent here. The least he could do was help get her pajamas. He pulled his hand away from her leg and shook his head at me. My stomach turned, and my skin grew warm. Why was he saying no to me? It was to help her. If anything, it would help with the rules he liked to follow.
“Liam, go get sweatpants, a t-shirt, and those makeup wipes from my room,” I snarled, tightening my muscles.
“I think she is fine how she is.” He broke our eye contact to look at her.
“No, she’s in an uncomfortable dress and wearing old makeup, which she cried in.” What wasn’t he understanding?
Emily shot out of my lap, glaring at me while she stood in front of the television. Her chest heaved, and she pulled at her hair.
“Uncomfortable? You think I’m uncomfortable because of a dress that’s made with fabric softer than sheets?” she retorted, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, wait, maybe I’m uncomfortable because I am a—”
I interrupted her, shooting to my feet to tower over her. Her lips parted, but she didn’t back down. That would be too easy for her. She stepped forward, making our chests touch.
“You want to continue on with your bitchy rampage?” I snapped, wanting her to kneel before my feet after her outburst.
