nd Tig Whitman only had been her own monster? What then? Becca could go to the press—to Tig—and share Krystal’s torment with the world. There was no damage control for that. She’d be labeled a liar. Her family? Their careers? Jace? All gone.
She curled up in the chair, resting her cheek on her knees, willing this all to go away.
“Krystal?” Emmy Lou touched her shoulder. “You okay? Headache?”
She nodded.
“You want to go?” She crouched down at her side. “Jace has the keys.”
Krystal nodded again, looking her sister in the eyes. “You know I love you, right? That I’d never do anything, say anything, that would hurt you?” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’d never make something up for attention?” It was still a whisper.
Emmy took her hand and stared at her. The sheen in her twin’s eyes was bright, raw. “I know.”
Krystal squeezed her hand.
“Are you okay? I know, with Mickey here, it had to be awkward.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Mickey’s here?” Krystal laughed.
“And Tig.” Emmy Lou was watching her closely.
“I noticed.” She gave her sister’s hand another squeeze. “Daddy okay?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “That vein in his forehead?” She waited for Krystal to nod. “It’s all popped out. His cheeks are all red.”
“Not good.” Krystal stood. “Jace and I are going to Frank’s. Try to get him out of here. We’ll get a big table.”
Side by side, there was no denying they were twins. Krystal spent more time in the gym, she was stronger, curvier than Emmy Lou. But working out was one way to burn off some tension—something she had more than her fair share of. Emmy Lou had a willowy quality, fragile in all the ways Krystal wasn’t.
“Krystal.” Emmy stopped her. “I know you think I can’t handle whatever is going on but you’re wrong. You’re my sister and Daddy’s my daddy, too. I hate that you’re both eaten up with something. I might not be able to do anything, but I’d rather know—”
“No, you wouldn’t, Em. Trust me.” She hugged her sister. “I promise.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “Text me about y’all joining us at Frank’s?”
Emmy Lou nodded and followed her out of the powder room and out into the hall. “See you later.” She waved and headed back down the hall to the party underway.
Jace was leaning against the hallway, jaw clenched tight.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
“Mickey Graham.” He pushed off the wall.
She waited, staring up at him. “Care to elaborate?”
“I’m sure you’ll read all about it in the paper tomorrow.” He ran a hand over his face. “You ready?” He took her hand and led her to the door marked “Exit.”
She nodded, doing her best not to smile. “Did my Gentleman Jace defend my honor?”
He shot her a look but didn’t slow.
“And I missed it?”
Another look—but this time there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. He held the door open for her.
“Did anyone see?” That could be bad news. “Jace, I hope you didn’t do anything stupid.” She yanked him to a stop in the gravel parking lot.
He spun to face her. “Stupid? I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.” He opened his mouth, so close to saying something. Instead he shook his head and said, “But knocking Mickey Graham flat on his back wasn’t it.” His hand pressed against her cheek. “That he had coming.”
Even though she was a strong, independent woman, his urge to protect her was a huge turn-on. “You know something, Jace?” Her hand covered his. “You are so hot.”