This is what we’ve all been holding our breath for, for this moment when she finally came to, finally returned to the land of the living.
But she woke with information that nearly kills me.
Janie licks her lips, her eyes sunk in and her skin craving the sun. After all this time in a hospital room she’s become sallow and sad. But the truth is, I haven’t seen my sister for a long time.
I try to remember a younger Janie, before she became the girl who left me to pick up the pieces alone after our parents died. I need to remember, because I can’t seem to see straight.
“It’s been like ... a dream ... a nightmare ...” she says, blinking heavily as if this is the most difficult thing of her life. Maybe it is. “The crash was bad?” she asks. “Did anyone die?”
“No, no one died, thank God,” I tell her, holding both her hands in mine. “I came to Vegas as soon as I heard you’d been hurt. And I know it’s been a long time, but Janie, I’m here. For you. Any way I can be.”
My phone starts ringing, but I know that right now I need to focus on my sister. I want to ask more about Ace. I need to focus on her.
“So everyone is alive from the crash?” she asks again.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “And you said Ace was driving?”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding her head slowly, her eyes suddenly more alive. “It was Ace Royalle.”
My phone rings again, and this time I reach for it. Maybe I need an out, because right now I can’t breathe.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Emmy?” Ace says. “Baby, I’m in jail.”
“What?” I ask, shaking my head, looking back at Janie who’s getting checked out for the millionth time by the nurses. I step out of the room, pressing my hand to my chest.
“Grotto framed me. I’m here being detained for your sister’s accident. I just need you to know I’m okay, and I have my lawyer sorting this all out.”
“Ace,” I say, my words choking as I say them. “Janie started talking.”
“Oh, fuck, really? She did?” Ace sounds surprised, but also ... unhappy? “What did she say?”
“I think I need to talk to the police before I talk to you, Ace.”
“What are you talking about, Emmy? You can tell me anything.”
“I can’t do this, Ace.”
“Do what?” he asks. A steel edge sharpens his voice; it hurts to hear him like this.
“You. You aren’t who you say you are.”
“I’m everything I say. I got one fucking call when they brought me in, and I called you. You, Emmy Rose. You. Don’t fuck with me now.”
“I’m not fucking anything.” My words are ice, everything within me going cold.
I don’t want to be this way. Not with him. Even if that makes me a fool.
Being with him is the only thing that has ever allowed me to begin to thaw, allowed the frozen pieces of myself to melt away.
So, in a whisper, I breathe the words I know I shouldn’t. If Ace has played me, anything I say may help his case. But I can’t not. The memories of the past three days flash in my mind. The Nutella sandwiches and the shower where he held me, the whispered words as we made love. I can’t erase them. I don’t want to.
“Ace,” I whisper. “She said you were driving.”
He starts to defend himself, but I can’t listen. It hurts too much and confuses me too much. I don’t feel safe at all. Grotto just blindsided me, and then Janie did too.
I need to think.
I hang up my phone and search my contacts for Detective Clark.
I look through the hospital room window at my sister, and see the nurses helping her sit up. She looks weak, like she might topple to the ground. Her hands grip the rails on the bed, her chin raised, as she takes deep breaths. Like she’s fighting to stay above water.
But right now I’m the one in way over my head.
ACE
I slam the phone down. Slam my fist into the concrete wall. Fuck. I press my palm around my bloodied hand, trying to shake it off.
But it’s not possible.
What the fuck sort of lies is Emmy’s sister feeding her? Telling her I was driving the car that crashed? It’s bullshit.
How many fucking times do I need to tell Emmy the truth for her to believe me?
I look around, screwed. Of course she doesn’t believe me. I’m the one who just got hauled off to jail.
Denzel says my arraignment is tomorrow, and that’s not gonna fly. I need to get the fuck out of here. Now.
In the cell, I sit with a few drunks and a cokehead. How the hell did I get here?
I run through the possibilities.
My friends would never have sold me out like this. Mark has my back—he’s trying to get my arraignment sooner–so I know he isn’t out to fuck with me.