Not long after the discovery of who my father really was, I was plagued by mysterious messages and endless threats from the remaining Elites. Their parents had been using the software company of the satellite Elites, the Hendersons, to cover up politician extortion and sex trafficking rings. My father, having been cast out of town and stripped of his fortune after he embezzled tons of money to pay off his gambling debts, returned with a vengeance. He killed Thomas Jameson, leaving everything in Emmett’s control, and sending the rest of the Elites to prison only to supposedly disappear again once he was done.
“No. Nothing. And I’m hoping it stays that way.” I shake my head, feeling sick from the all too recent memories.
When Emmett and I gave our statements to the police, framing his father’s death as a suicide, they cornered me about my father. They told me he was under investigation for a slew of federal crimes and that I should report any contact I have with him back to them. But around here, you can’t even trust the cops. I’d rather not be faced with the decision of whether or not to tell them, so I desperately hope my father stays away for good.
“Do you think he has something to do with this?” Emmett asks desperately.
“I wouldn’t rule it out, honestly,” I reply, my legs buckling underneath me as I plop back onto my bed. “I don’t trust him. But that’s what you get, Emmett. If you’re going to make deals with people like him, you have to expect shady things to come out of it.”
“So, you think he could have taken Bernadette?” he continues, reaching for any possible lead.
“I didn’t say that, but…” I stop myself, remembering who I’m talking to. Emmett was the one who worked with my father, offering to kidnap me for him and then letting him onto his property to kill his father. Who’s to say they aren’t still working together? That I know too much about their scheme, and when I refused to talk to either of them, they decided I couldn’t be trusted? This could all be some sick game to lure me back in close so they can take me out the way they did Thomas Jameson. My suspicions hang in a heavy silence.
“Have you thought about going to the cops anyway?” I ask finally, hoping to catch some hint of Emmett’s truth in all of this. After all, teaming up with my father again would explain his hesitancy to go to the police. And Lily did warn me that my father wasn’t really gone. “I know your mom doesn’t want you to, but…maybe they could help.”
“So many of them were close to my father,” he says, shaking his head in stubborn refusal. “I don’t trust that they’ll have our best interests in mind. Everyone knows my father didn’t really kill himself. They just got paid off and put that down on paper. They may be against me.”
“Could they have something to do with it?” I sit up, remembering not to rule anything out when it comes to the town of Jameson and its Elites. “Are they so corrupt that they might have something to do with Bernadette’s disappearance?”
“I can’t rule anything out at this point.” He collapses next to me, burying his face in his hands. “Which is the hardest part—I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well, what we do know is that she is missing,” I recap with intense focus, scooting away from him. “And that there are plenty of people who are upset and nervous about your father being gone and the changes happening with Jameson Automobiles. You taking everything over.”
“People strike when you’re weak and vulnerable.” He groans. “When things are changing…when you’re distracted.”
“Tell me about it.” I turn away from him, rubbing my arm sheepishly.
I was weak and vulnerable when I came here because of my sheer ignorance. I had no idea Emmett and the others would make it their sole mission in life to make mine a living hell. I want to be over it all, but it’s too soon. And I’m afraid forgetting will only open me up to more trouble.
“I really am sorry, Ophelia.” He places his hand on my knee, but I quickly push it off and move further down the bed. “I know I’ve told you before, but…everything you’ve seen of me so far…that wasn’t me,” he continues earnestly. “I was under so much pressure from my father and the other Elites. I hoped that after a little time, we could start again. That you could get to know the real me, but now, with everything with Bernadette…I didn’t know who else to turn to. Who else I can trust.”
“I’ll help you figure out what happened to Bernadette,” I say bitterly, knowing even that much is far more than he deserves. “But after that, I’m done. I told you I don’t want you in my life.”
“But you do.” He reaches towards me defiantly, wrapping his fingers across my thigh. “You say you don’t, but I know you do. That’s why you’re helping me.”
“I’m helping you because it’s the decent thing to do,” I insist, closing in on myself and rocking back and forth. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to understand anything about the decent treatment of others.”
He recoils against my jab, exasperated and leaving me to study him carefully. I wish I could see into his head and know exactly what’s going on inside. So much of me wants to believe him when he says I don’t know the real him, that with his father gone he can prove to me that he is a good person who has sincere feelings for me. But every time I think I can open myself up to the possibility, flashes of everything he has done to me pull me back into disbelief.
But he looks genuinely sorry as he watches me glare at him in distrust. More than that, he looks just as clueless and hopeless as I am. I have to remind myself that he is just a teenage boy, even if he is now the sole executive of Jameson Automobiles, with all the money and power that come along with that role. His sister is missing, and he has to know how big of a target is now on his own back.
“Ophelia, can we talk?” he asks with a pleading tone.
“We are talking,” I snap back, crossing my arms again.
“No, I mean…can we talk about us?” His head is down, but his eyes are burning into me.
“There is no ‘us’ to talk about, Emmett.” I shake my head in exasperation. I refuse to cave into him. “I said I would help you with Bernadette, but that’s it. And this whole thing better not be some ploy to get back into my life.”
He follows me as I rant and pace around the room. “Will you just look at me?” he begs, grabbing my wrists and pulling me towards him. “Just be still for a minute and listen to me. Please.”
“Okay.” I shrug finally, with an angry and impatient stare. “What is it? What do you want to talk about? Because as far as I’m concerned, you already said everything you had to say after the police station. It wasn’t enough then and it won’t be enough now.”
“I don’t know if I said everything.” He reaches out as if he might touch my face, but then pulls back like he’s not worthy. He steps away and looks at the floor, his shoulders slumping over his chest. “I don’t know how to explain how I feel about you,” he says slowly, unable to look at me. “It’s like…from the moment I saw you, I felt sucked in. And everyone around me expected me to torture you and do all of these terrible things to you because of who your father is, but I just couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, you did,” I retort bitterly.
“No, I didn’t,” he insists. “Not like I was supposed to and you know that. It was supposed to be so much worse. I tried to do what they wanted but…” He trails off and turns back towards me. His eyes are urgently taking me in. It’s like he started to slip off into too dark of a place in his memories and ne