Dirty Little Secrets

Ch. 12: The Priceless Diamond

DAMON

Emery paces around the apartment like a volatile bomb; she can explode any second. But with what? Rage? Tears? Joy? I watch her carefully, intently, attempting to translate every movement, every breath, every glance in my direction. Her hostility toward me is understandable, but I did what I had to do. I have no qualms about doing everything in my power to get what I want. There's no line I wouldn't cross. There's no door I wouldn't break open.

"So, what do you think?"

Emery pauses in front of the balcony doors, arms crossed as she stares into the city. Eventually, she'll uncross those arms. She'll lower her guard. She'll trust me. I need her to trust me. This won't work without blinding trust. Patience isn't my strong suit, but I have no choice. I have to wait. She'll come to me when she's ready. When the dust settles, and she sees what I see, she'll get on her knees, and she'll thank me. Like Alison. But unlike Alison, she won't ever want to leave. I won't let her.

"As a kid, I used to hate coming to New York," Emery mutters as she steps onto the balcony, her hair blowing in the wind. She sighs. "I never thought I'd end up living here." She cranes her neck over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Against my will, might I add."

Ignoring the latter part of her statement, I join her outside. "I can't imagine why a child would hate such a vibrant city. I doubt Chesterfield has enough to stimulate a young mind."

She scoffs. "Not a lot of vibrancy in hospitals."

I frown. "Hospitals?"

"The view is nice," she muses, side-stepping an explanation. She takes a step forward, pressing up against the railing as she looks down. "It's a long way down." She leans over the edge, and fear zaps my chest as I reach out to grab her, but she pulls herself back as if sensing my distress. "If someone jumped... I wonder by which floor they'd regret it." Unease stirs in my gut by her morbid musings. "I'd probably make it to the fifth floor." She flicks her solemn gaze at me. "What about you? How far would you make it before wishing you never jumped?"

"We should go back inside," I say, needing her to step away from the edge. She's leaning too far now. She doesn't move, instead, she bends further against the railing. "Emery!"

"What?" She releases a string of worrisome giggles as her hands uncurl the railing and she holds her arms in the air. "Worried I'll jump?"

"Enough!" In one swift motion, I pull Emery toward me, scopping her into my arms With alarmed eyes, I stare at her as she chuckles and spins around to face me. "You think this is funny?" I shake my head. "Do not do that ever again, understand?"

She gives me a weak smile. "I'm kidding, Damon. Don't look so concerned."

"It's not funny, Miss Jones," I state, guiding her back into the apartment where it's safe.

"Yeah, well," she hums, scanning the furnished condo with a skeptical eye, "I'm not exactly a walking ray of sunshine."

"You're right," I say, chaperoning her every step as she familiarizes herself with her new home. "You're not sunshine, Miss Jones. You're rain." She pauses, her back facing me as I slowly approach her, as one would an unstable grenade. The scent of her sweet perfume overpowers my senses as I stop behind her, my body buzzing from the proximity, from the comforting closeness of her presence. I sweep her hair over her shoulder, leaning into her ear as I whisper, "Rain brings life to the lifeless, Miss Jones. Without rain, everything would burn."

She swallows, shivering as my breath tickles her skin. "Is that why I'm here?" she whispers, closing her eyes. "To make you feel alive again?" She subtly shakes her head, my stubble grazing her temples. "Death only brings death, Mr. Cavanaugh. I promise you, I am not an antidote for lifelessness."