DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

a vital part of their lives when I couldn’t be.

“I’ll call you when they wake up,” I tell him because I have to allow Bishop to get all his anger out so he can move on with this. “You’ll have to reintroduce me to them.”

Mills frowns and nods. “Of course, Ems. They’ll remember you, I’m sure of it. You’re their mother.” He grabs my hand and Bishop bristles, still brushing the pending bruise on my cheek. “Tell dickhead here to hurry up. It’s past his bedtime.”

And with that, he and Marty take off, leaving me with the biggest problem yet besides killing off my baby daddy.

My husband.

When I thought Emmy died, a piece of my heart did as well. I knew that life would never be the same—that I’d never be the same.

So when I saw the taillights of a Jeep leaving my property, you can imagine the rate of my heart thudding in my chest and the impending questions that surfaced to my head.

People drive Jeeps; my ex-wife is not the only one.

However, the notion that none of anything made sense—Mills carrying me out of Alexander’s penthouse alone, the man who randomly showed up in the woods when I attempted to kill Mills, and the slaughter that Blue claims she did all on her own…shit didn’t add up.

Actually, it wasn’t all that logical.

Unless I had a guardian angel that decided to fly down from heaven to be at my side at all times, my reality wasn’t what people were claiming it to be that were around me.

And that said angel, I’m betting she had blonde hair and honey-brown eyes.

Except the woman in front of me has chopped her hair off and turned it brown. Her lips are still pink and full, her little button nose still points at me, and the way she peers up at me has my cock responding as it always does.

This woman, whom I’ve tackled unapologetically, is Emmy Lou Rhodes.

And I still can’t fucking believe I’m looking at her right now.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” I declare through clenched teeth as soon as Mills’s door clicks shut behind them. “And I’m so fucking pissed right now.”

“I know.” She takes my hand that’s still stroking the spot that I accidentally hit and pulls it away.

It instantly pisses me off.

It actually makes me snap.

Tearing my hand from hers, mine wraps around her throat as I push her backward until she’s pinned between me and the wall.

I want to crush her until she’s dust.

I crave to hurt her as she did me so much worse than Camilla ever did. The pain I felt from the loss of Emmy will never compare to anything else I’ve ever felt in my life.

I can’t forgive her for this.

Especially when there are so many unexplained answers to questions that I can’t find now except for why—why did she do this to me?

To all of us.

Clenching my free hand, I remember that my Glock is still in my palm and that she never took it.

She gives me too much credit.

She believes that I care so much as to not reap revenge on her in any way I see fit for how I’m feeling.

Lifting it, I nudge the tip of her jaw with the barrel. “How long were you going to make us all suffer, Emmy?”

She locks her pretty gaze with mine, unaffected by my action. “When Alexander was dead.”

“And why do you wanna kill your boyfriend? Did he not make you come enough?”

Her nostrils flare but she opens her mouth anyway. “Because…”

“Because?” I impatiently shove the gun deeper into her flesh. “You’ve never been on this side of me before so do yourself a favor and answer my fucking question.”

“You mean elbowing me in the face wasn’t—“ The hammer of my gun clicking back shuts her the fuck up but she doesn’t see that I don’t have my index finger on the trigger.

No, that’s a little too risky for the game I’m playing right now.

I haven’t passed Go yet.

“Answer. My. Fucking. Question,” I snarl through my extremely tightened jaw.

“That’s my business,” she replies softly. “If I tell you…you’ll take it away from me.”

My brows knit. “Take what away from you?”

“Killing him.”

“Who fucking cares who kills him? He’s a rich prick who tried to have me killed by his goons.”

“I know…I was there.”

I fucking knew it.

“How?” My body presses firmer into hers, needing to know every response because I have to have all this make sense. “How did you know, Emmy?”

“I was there, at Alexander’s penthouse when you were. I hid in the closet. I bugged his place after I…” She takes a breath before saying, “Before I nailed you all with a tranquilizer gun. I called Mills, we carried you out and into his car. I covered my tracks and hooked his cell and house up to my laptop. I got home and he had already begun planning how he wanted you out. So, Blue and I took care of it.”

“You didn’t park far enough down the road.”

She nods, clearly understanding how I got us to where we are. “Figures.”

I allow my gun to skate up her cheek and stop at her temple. “Why did you start this?”

“You have to promise—“

“I don’t have to promise you shit,” I storm out, spit hitting her face and her features blurring in my vision. “I don’t have to do anything you ask of me. I don’t want to do anything for you anymore. Do you fucking hear me? We’re done. I can’t trust you anymore.”

The soft sweep of Emmy’s exhales touches my lips and my body settles. It thaws and strides to hold still to the raging emotions that course through my veins.

We’ll never be the same after this. 

I can’t depend or even look at her anymore without remembering this.

What she did and how I felt afterward.

How I just wanted to die all the time.

When I couldn’t sleep because she was in my nightmares and dreams with my being the one who didn’t save her.

She was supposed to save me.

I put