Crashed (Entangled Indulgence)(58)

He shouldn’t have let her walk out his apartment door. He should have held on to her and made her understand.

“Deacon?”

He turned to find Emily standing by her car. So preoccupied with Alex, he hadn’t even seen it when he drove in. “What are you doing here?”

Her lip quivered. “I—I need to talk to you. Please don’t tell me to go.”

“We have nothing to discuss. Not a damned thing.”

He turned away, but she rushed after him and grabbed his arm. “Please. I’m not doing so well, Deacon. I—I think I might do something stupid.” A tear streaked down her perfectly made-up face. “I miss you so much. Seeing you with…” Her face twisted. “With her.” She shook her head. “I can’t bear it.”

“What do you think you might do, Emily?” She shook her head again, and he grabbed her upper arms. “Answer me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, burying her face against his chest.

He had no choice but to hold her while she cried, when all he wanted to do was shake the shit out of her, beg her to leave him the fuck alone. This woman had screwed with his life, made him fucking miserable, and he was trapped, chained to her in a way that had him waking up at night in a cold sweat. He sure as hell wouldn’t let her kill herself over him. That was something he could never live with. But no matter how many doctors and psychiatrists she saw, it always came back to this. Her obsession with him.

“Why aren’t you with Steve?”

“He’s away on business.” She brushed her tears away.

“How would he feel if he knew you were here?”

She sucked in a breath and looked away. “I doubt he’d care.” Her eyes, round and liquid, stared up at him. “He’s not you.”

Jesus Christ. “Come upstairs.” She gave him a wobbly smile and clutched his hand like a lifeline. The thought made him want to throw up.

Emily had been doing great for the last eighteen months. It seemed like she’d finally moved on. Could he trust this? This sudden relapse? She’d manipulated him more times than he could remember. But then, how could he risk not believing her?

If he ignored her cry for help and something happened…

Shit.

He took her up to his apartment and let her in. “Take a seat. I’ll make you some tea.”

So fucking polite, so normal. Have some nice, soothing tea while you emotionally blackmail me, while you keep me away from the only woman I’ve ever loved.

He leaned against the counter and took several steadying breaths. Jesus, could he be any more of an asshole? For all he knew, Emily was suffering some kind of emotional breakdown. It wouldn’t be the first he’d ridden out with her—but it sure as hell needed to be the last. He couldn’t be her crutch, not anymore. He needed to talk her into getting help.

He pulled out the cups and glanced at his watch. Dammit.

There was no way he’d make his dinner meeting tonight, but more frustrating, he doubted he’d get to see Alex. He quickly called about dinner, made his apologies, and rescheduled, then scrolled down to Alex’s name. The phone rang for so long he started to think she wouldn’t answer.

“Hello.”

The sound of her voice went a long way to soothing the stress and anxiety he always felt when Emily was like this. “Hey.”

The pause before she spoke, that hint of wariness, fucking twisted him up inside. “Worried I’m not coming?”

“No, I—”

“We have a deal, right?”

Deal. It wasn’t a fucking deal, not to him. And as much as she tried to deny it, she knew it, too. “Alex…”

“We still have a deal, don’t we, Deacon?” There was an acerbic bite to her voice—her tone damn near gave him frostbite. He knew she was still angry after the way he’d behaved this morning—she had every right to be—but he got the feeling this was something more.

He held the phone tighter to his ear. “Talk to me, Alex. I know I—”

“I’m getting dressed. I’ll head over to your place when I’m ready.”

Her voice was still cold, but she’d dropped the quietly controlled anger. Now she just sounded emotionless, distant. Fuck. She was holding back, keeping her feelings locked down, and he hated it.

“Deacon?” Emily’s voice drifted in from the hall and, he was positive, bounced off the kitchen cabinets and right down the goddamn receiver to Alex.

“You still at work?” Alex asked.

“Look, something’s come up. I, ah…I have to cancel our plans for tonight.” He wanted to say more, so much more, but Emily chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.