Page 93 of Trustfall

“I have contacts.” I roll my eyes as he continues. “With the recording and Jaxon’s injuries, Luke might be facing some serious time.”

“What injuries?”

“Jaxon was treated at Emberfield Memorial last night for a busted nose and two broken ribs.”

Shit. My stomach churns. I’m going to be sick. I sprint to the bathroom, but instead of vomiting, I drop to my knees beside the toilet and burst into tears. They stream down my face, the salty liquid landing on my lips.

He stood up for me. But at what cost?

My phone buzzes. Hope soars in my chest that it’s good news, but it deflates when I see it’s just Ashton.

Ashton: Hey, partner in crime. Wanted to make sure you are okay after everything that went down last night. You know I’m always here if you need anything. Just say the word.

His words should warm my heart, but for some reason, they make me angrier. Why couldn’t I fall for a nice guy like Ash? He didn’t assault anyone or push me to bare my soul. He’s there for me and asks what I need, instead of going behind my back. I respond, thanking him and promising to call him soon.

I feel like I’m suffocating. In this bathroom. In this house. I have to get out. I push myself up off my knees and grab my phone before Nate or Allie have a chance to stop me. I run to my car and pull out of the driveway. Before I know it, I’m pulling up to the gate at my dad’s estate. I press the button on the intercom.

“It’s Emory,” I say before the voice on the other end even has a chance to ask. “My dad isn’t expecting me, but I don’t need to see him. I just want to get a book from the library.”

“No problem, Ms. Caldwell,” the voice says, and it sounds like Graham, my father’s estate manager. “Go right ahead.”

I drive through the gate as it opens and park in the circular driveway. Looking up at the house, it's hard to believe a huge party was held here last night. The luxury cars and limousines are gone, the lanterns and lights have been removed, and the gardens are back to normal. I glance towards the gazebo, remembering last night.I never hit you.But you still abused me.

Dried tears stain my face, and new ones well up in my eyes, but I hold them back as I climb the stairs. I don't bother ringing doorbell; instead, I use my emergency key to let myself in. Thankfully, Maeve isn't waiting by the door, so I can slip into the library unnoticed. I'm not doing anything wrong, but I don't feel like talking to anyone right now.

I enter the library and my breathing slows down, warmth spreading through my body.My haven. I gaze at the floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves, taking in the rows of differently colored hardcovers. The marble mantel above the fireplace sparkles, looking freshly cleaned, and the pillows on the couches and chaise lounge appear fluffy and inviting. I slip off my shoes, allowing my feet to sink into the plush beige and navy accent rug. As I reach a bookshelf, I run my fingers over the spines and pull one out.The Odyssey. I've never read it, despite having read many classics. Greek mythology just never caught my attention. I slide it back into place and pick out another book.ToKill a Mockingbird. I smile to myself. It's one of my favorites. It's been years since I've been in this library. I wonder if myTwilightcollection is still here.

“This was her favorite place,” I hear a deep voice say behind me. I snap my head up and see my dad standing in the doorway.

I blink. “What?”

“Your mother,” he clarifies, walking into the room. “She loved to read. When we designed this house, I knew it would need a library, so I had this built for her. I had it filled with all these little reading nooks and fancy couches, but she only ever read on the windowsill. You were just a baby, but she would prop you up on her lap and read to you too.”

My mouth gapes wide open. How did I not know this? She loved to read. She used to sit in the same spot.She read to me here.

“That’s…that’s where I sit,” I manage to grit out.

“I know,” he says as he reaches a shelf and runs his finger over one of the books.

“You know?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes plastered to the book in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I say with a little more venom than I intended.

“I’m working from home today. Graham said you were in here.”

Fucking Graham.I thought I had gotten in undetected.

He picks up the book he had his finger on and starts flipping through the pages. “Emory…I.” He continues flipping absentmindedly, but then he stops and looks up at me. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you kids.”

Well, that’s the understatement of the damn century.

“When she died…” he starts, but the words get stuck in his throat. “I was lost. She was the other half of me. I didn’t know how to do this without her. Your grandmother offered to take you guys, and I thought you both had a better chance with her.”

My eyes roam over him, taking in the subtle grays scattered through his black hair and the slight wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. Apart from those, he’s a carbon copy of Nate.

“You look so much like her,” he continues. “When you first came to live with me again, I saw you reading on the windowsill and…it just hurt so much, Emory.”

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