Page 117 of A Heart So Haunted
Hadrian and I shot upright at the same time. He grabbed both of my shoulders and dragged me in front of him so my head blocked the opened part of his chest. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, tight, steady, as if we did this every day. As if this were normal.
His chin rested on the crown of my head.
Emma rounded the corner to the living room and looked up. “Hey! You’re—”
Everyone froze. Stared at each other. Embarrassment surged in a red heat over my skin.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, wide eyed. The TV, dreadfully and embarrassingly, still hummed in the background. Like we were two frantic teenagers before a parent got home.
I could only imagine how we looked right then. Hadrian, shirt open. Me, eyes wide, face hot. And then there was Emma: mouth agape, purse dangling at her side and the front door still open.
“I will … step …” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Out … side.”
I nodded, mute.
Hadrian cleared his throat. When the front door clicked shut, I turned. Not an ounce of blush heated his cheeks.
“She saw you,” I murmured, stepping close. His shoulder brushed my cheek. “Shesawyou, Hadrian.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed when he nodded. I couldn’t help the sense of dread that filled my stomach when he said, “That she did, dearest. That she did.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
After six minutes of pacing and texting furiously while she walked, I’d managed to wrangle Emma back into the house. Now, both hands were splayed as we sat on the couch, like she’d been trying to keep a child from eating a battery they’d found lying on the floor.
“I’m not mad,” Emma said. “I just wanna know.”
She also kept talking in partial sentences. I could almost see the smoke billowing out of her ears. Granted, I understood. At the very least, Hadrian had looked completely human tonight—which was a blessing, because explaining horns and teeth would have been difficult.
“Who that man is,” Another pause. She puckered her mouth into duck-lips, tilted her head, and raised one eyebrow. Then, she held up a finger. “For one. Two,” another finger went up. “Why is he so attractive. Three. Where did he come from?”
I sat with my hands pinned between my knees. A low vibrating sound came from her pocket. She retrieved her phone, texted in quick, snapping taps. “Um. Would you believe me if I told you he just kind of fell out of the closet one day—”
“I am not joking! Landry May Frederick! Focus!” She faced her screen away from me. It buzzed again.
“Yes, Mom!” I exclaimed with just as much enthusiasm.
She pointed a finger at me. The morning sun did wonders for her eyes. Almost burnt auburn with a gold ring around the outside. “You were dry humping a hot man in our living room.”
“My living room.” I didn’t say it with venom. Just to poke her.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not sure you’recognitively ableto own a home when you have men likethathiding in your life. You never told me!” She flung her arms wide. One hand smacked the window frame. I knew she was serious, because she didn’t so much as wince.
“Like—WHY? How? Where did you meet him?” She leaned across the table, eyebrows so high they nearly blended with her hairline. “I swear on our dad’s grave, if he’s a serial killer—no, scratch that, even something as low as not putting his own shopping cart away, I’m going to bury him in the backyard and plant squash over his plot before fall.”
“They would have actually needed to be planted about two months ago—”
“You get the point!”
“I don’t think it’s that serious, Em.” I kept my tone gentle. Now I was using the placating hands. She trembled like Donald The Chihuahua used to. “He’s not—”
My throat clogged.He’s not a bad guyinsinuated he had not, in fact, killed someone. Or multiple someones.
“—going to hurt me,” is what I settled on instead.
“Hurt is subjective.” A flash behind her eyes, something to hide.
My posture softened. I leaned my elbows onto the table. As if making myself smaller would allow Emma to open up.
