The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

Jesus Christ.

The whole visual was sexy as hell, but he wasn’t in the mood to be distracted. He pushed past her without waiting for an invitation. Em’s place was exactly how he’d imagined. Open plan, modern, elegant but comfortable. He stopped in the space between her dining and living rooms, glowering at the huge sectional he’d woken up on.

Jack didn’t know whether to be pissed at her or pissed at himself.

Because he remembered everything.

Emery had manipulated the truth out of him.

He heard her close the door and turned to face her.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink and her eyes widened ever so slightly. “You remember.”

“Oh, I remember.” Jack took a step toward her but stopped when she retreated as if wary of him. “Fuck,” he bit out. Was she afraid of him now? Did she think because he’d covered up this murder, he was capable of hurting her?

“I won’t tell anyone, Jack,” Em promised.

His eyes narrowed. “Because you’re afraid of me, of my family?”

Her lips parted in shock. “I would never be afraid of you. I won’t tell because I won’t destroy you and your sister over a stranger who tried to rape her.”

Surprise flickered through him. “Some people would call that morally wrong.”

“Those people would be right.” Em crossed her arms over her chest. “But I’m not obligated to do what’s right for ‘people.’ I’m obligated to do what I believe is right, period.”

Rage flooded him. “But now you have this secret, Em. You tricked this fucking secret out of me, and now you have to live with it.”

Her expression softened. “I did trick you. And I’m so sorry. That was wrong. And now these are my consequences.”

“And you feel sick to your stomach?”

“For you, yes.” Her eyes brightened with an emotion that made his throat thicken. “I’m incredibly sad for you, Jack. I’m sad you’ve had to sacrifice so much for your sister … and I’m in awe of you.”

Fuck!

Jack bowed his head, not able to see that look on her face. He felt her words. He felt them all over, and as much as he didn’t want to feel them, they were like salve on a festering fucking wound.

Someone saw him.

Not the shitty, horrendous actions he’d taken in the name of his father or the self-destructive ones that were a tool to push away the people he cared about.

Someone saw through it all to the truth.

And not just anyone.

Emery.

It was a relief that Jack didn’t want to feel.

“So, you’ll keep this quiet?” he asked, staring at the floor, his voice hoarse.

“Yes. I promise.”

And he believed her.

His eyes flew to her and saw she’d crept closer.

Whatever she recognized in his expression made her face crumple. “Oh, Jack.” Tears slipped down her cheeks seconds before she threw her arms around him.