Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

As much as I’ll miss her when all of this is said and done.

If I can fix it.

“I’ll try,” I promise her. It’s a shitty promise to have to make. If I succeed, it means carving out parts of my own life and handing them back to the world. Back to Emily. It means giving Paige back to Emily, and after that—I don’t know what else. Mateo sighs. “I’ll try.”

CHAPTER NINE

Emily Rochester

It wears on the soul, being dead. Having to cut your hair and wear sunglasses. Having to look away when you pass someone on the street. Having no phone or email or connection in the world. Even Facebook thinks I’m dead.

There were times I felt dead, as if I really did drown in the ocean. Maybe only the ghost of Emily Rochester climbed onto the frozen rocks, gasping for air.

Now I’ve been thrust into the land of the living. I’m painfully alive.

“Just…give me a minute. Okay?” Beau asks.

“Okay.” He can take as long as he wants, if he’s going to help me fix this.

Beau steps outside with his phone. That leaves me in the cabin… with Mateo.

“Interesting.”

Mateo Garza was hot in high school. All the girls wanted to be with him, but I wasn’t interested in a player. I only had eyes for Beau.

After an unmoored home life, I wanted safety. Security.

A laughable goal considering what happened.

“What’s interesting?” I say, my voice flat. I don’t want to engage with him. It’s clear he’s skeptical of me. No, worse than that. He’s outright distrustful.

“That you didn’t reach out to Beau sooner. Or me, for that matter.”

A startled laugh escapes me. “You? For all I knew you would turn me over to the police. After finding out my brother was a dirty cop and my husband was helping him, I couldn’t trust anyone.”

More skepticism. “Interesting that you left your daughter behind.”

Pain steals my breath. It’s been torture to be away from Paige. She’s my heart, walking around, eating, sleeping. “I protected her the only way I could. She would have been in danger on the run. I was a moving target. I became a target the moment Joe pulled the trigger.”

“You didn’t trust Beau enough to turn to him. But you left Paige with him?”

“Beau had no reason to hurt her. I didn’t think he’d believe me, but I also didn’t think he’d harm an innocent child. God, even Rhys never hit her.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake. I’ve said too much.

Awareness darkens Mateo’s eyes. “But he hit you, didn’t he?”

“That’s none of your business. Why are you even here?”

“Because I’m Beau’s friend. Someone he can trust. Someone who didn’t betray him.”

“I never betrayed him.” There’s a stab of pain at my breastbone, because I did hurt him. And he hurt me. Maybe that’s all that love has to offer—pain. “And I never cheated on him. He’s the one who left me.”

“To make his way in the world.”

“And he couldn’t bring me with him?”

“Would you have liked that? The parties in LA? The drugs? The clubs?”

“I have no idea.”

“I think you would have. I think you’re just ambitious enough to have found some older, richer sugar daddy. Someone who could give you a Beverly Hills mansion and a boob job.”

“How dare you.”

“Lucky for him, you picked the other brother. Is that why Beau is still alive?”

Breath catches in my throat. “You think I killed Rhys?”

“You wouldn’t be the first woman who’s been knocked around to decide she’s had enough. And he had some money, didn’t he? He made you a rich widow.”

I’m surprised by how much it hurts, his accusation. He’s no one to me. He’s nothing. At least that’s what I tell myself. Instead it twists my heart. “This is why I couldn’t call you. Or Beau. Because you’re all the same, when it comes down to it. The world is a big, fat boys club.”

Mateo stands, and I shy away from him. But he keeps coming, advancing, moving into my space until I’m backed against the wall. “Rhys Rochester was a piece of shit. And so’s Joe Causey. It doesn’t surprise me that they worked together. What surprises me is that you protected them.”

“I didn’t know what they were doing,” I whisper.

This close I can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes. I can see the faint smile lines around his eyes. This is a face that’s graced magazines in supermarkets. He’s inches away from me. “You didn’t know? Or you didn’t want to know?”

“For someone just trying to survive, those are the same thing.”

His gaze drops to my lips. He reaches up a hand—to touch them? Or to slap me? The instinct runs too deep. It’s been engraved into my skin. I flinch away from him. His hand hovers in the air, frozen. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”