“Burn the building, with her in it,” Clark says diplomatically, hands folded. “That’s my guess.”
“But why?” Emmy asks. “What did I do?”
“You’re with me. Easiest way for Grotto to get me to back down is to come after my woman.”
“But why would he want the fingers pointed at himself?” McQueen asks. “Starting this fire puts a target on his back.”
“Maybe he’s trying to cover up something bigger,” Claire says, and I think to myself that Emmy’s got smart friends. “Something worse, and this fire would take the heat off that.”
“Shit,” Jack says. “Any idea what Grotto might be doing that’s worse than arson?”
Remembering Janie’s heroin kit hidden in her bedroom, the fact that she is working with Grotto to frame me, I have a fucking clue.
“You said the Police Department has been trying to get Grotto behind bars for years, right?” I ask Clark.
“Sure have. But man, that man is clean as a whistle until now ... and he still isn’t liable for this. We have no proof he had anything to do with this fire, boys. If we did, it would be nice and easy. But nothing is that easy when it comes to criminals.”
Fuck me, don’t I know it. My whole childhood was spent with criminals. I grew up with dirty hands, dirty money. I know how twisted people can become when they are living in a goddamned cycle of greed. Grotto is trying to cover up something bigger. Set me up, then set the fire.
But I’m not the one going up in motherfucking flames.
EMMY
When Ace takes my hand and leads me out of Clark’s office, for a moment I think he wants to take me in the bathroom and fuck me again. But then I see the terror in his face, the anger in his eyes.
“We need to talk to your sister. We need to get her to confess to her part in this,” he says.
“Shouldn’t that be Clark and his men? Ace, I’ve tried with her. It’s a brick wall. She and I are through.”
“Fuck that, Emmy; you can’t quit now. Do you understand what Grotto is trying to do to me?”
“I get it. I just don’t know what I can do.” I toss my head back, rub my temples. I am beyond exhausted. “I need to sleep, Ace. I’m so tired ... so done with today.”
“We should all rest,” Ace says, cupping my cheek in his hand. “It’s late, you need your beauty sleep.”
I swat his hand away, a small smile on my tired face. “You saying I need sleep to be beautiful?”
“You know me, baby.”
“I do, Ace. I do.” And I press my mouth on his lips, holding his strong, stubbled jaw in my hand. Kiss him tight. “I’m bringing my girls home with me so I won’t be alone, but I need to sleep in my own bed tonight, get my own clothes tomorrow. Regroup.”
“Your clothes are still packed in suitcases,” Ace says. “I was at your apartment looking for you ... before I found you tied up. Emmy, you can’t keep living out of bags.”
“And where should I live, Ace?” I shake my head, not ready to think about Janie leaving the hospital and me needing to make choices about my next steps. Do I reapply for graduate school, move back to Washington? I can’t imagine leaving Ace, but ... he and I have made no promises.
“Live with me,” Ace says simply, taking my hands in his. “Move into my penthouse.”
“You can count the number of days we’ve known one another on two hands.”
“So? Two hands are good,” Ace says, shrugging. “They’re what I’m using to hold you right now.”
“Where the hell did you come from, Ace?” I ask, blown away by this man. His words, his commitment, to me.
“I came from a no-good place. But look where I’ve ended up.”
“Where?” I ask, looking around the dingy police station, all bad lighting and laminate floor. “Where have you ended up?”
“With you. I’ve ended up with you.”
My breath catches on our intimate voices, the way his thumb circles my palm. The way his love has wrapped around my heart. “I’m a person, not a place, Ace,” I tell him.
“Oh, baby, you’re wrong. You are home.”
Ace doesn’t want me to leave his side, but I need to go back to Janie’s apartment. I need to sleep in her bed, say good-bye to a story that is no longer mine to write. Her life and my life are no longer entwined. She told me to go, and so I will.
Still, he sends a security detail to scout out the place all night and, while his safety measures seem indulgent, he reminds me I was kidnapped tonight. So I stop fussing and thank him.