The Revenge Games Duet

Emerson’s still in a state of shock by her sister’s side, and still refusing to talk to Wesley or me. Even Wesley looks remorseful, standing up and pacing the corridor with bloodshot eyes, coming down from whatever substance he’s taken.

When Chris answers the phone, I tell him and Abbi that Tayla’s okay now, but of course, explain what happened. He asks a million questions in a state of panic, and most importantly why I’m in LA.

I promise him I will answer everything later, but for now, that I’ll make sure Tayla rests and gets better. It doesn’t ease his worries with both of them catching the next flight over to see their daughter.

The paparazzi caught wind of the situation, camped outside the hospital as security tried to restrain them. When it’s time to leave, Emerson’s bodyguard escorts her and Tayla through the underground entrance and into a black tinted SUV. Wesley decides to jump in with them, much to my annoyance, and I follow the car alone and still reeling from what’s happened.

Outside Emerson and Wesley’s apartment, the paparazzi are stationed with their cameras. When the cars pull up, the frenzy begins. The cameras are out snapping away, journalists running across the street knocking on the glass window of the car screaming out personal questions. I thought I could get away with driving behind them, but soon the attention diverts to my window.

“Is it true you and Emerson Chase are having an affair?”

“Will you leave the Royal Kings to move back to the States to be with her?”

“Is Emerson Chase pregnant with your baby, or is it Wesley Rich’s?”

The window is wound up, with my focus on the garage door opening. When both cars are parked, Jimmy yells at all of them to back the hell off as it’s private property. They reluctantly do so, retreating to their spots across the street and waiting for any activity which will give them the scoop they need.

I follow them upstairs and into the apartment, suddenly realizing how familiar this place feels. Then, I remember, watching all three seasons of the show they were often filmed in this apartment.

This is their home.

Everything looks exactly as it does on the screen, although slightly bigger.

It doesn’t feel right being here, it’s a wake-up call of the life Emerson lives without me. This is her world. A world built on lies, deceit, and fame.

Emerson disappears with Tayla to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

Wesley’s less accommodating, ignoring my presence and disappearing to another room.

Walking to the balcony, I open the door and step outside. The sun’s about to rise, and with the exhaustion hitting me fiercely, I sit on the wicker chair and close my eyes.

I’ve been to hell and back since Emerson left me at the restaurant.

No matter what I do or try, I can’t erase her from my thoughts.

***

I isolated myself from Ash, spending countless hours watching Emerson’s every move through various social media accounts. For days, I’d call her every thirty minutes, greeted with nothing but an empty line. The desperation consumed me to the point that I’d contacted Wesley and offered him cash in exchange for walking away. It was a massive risk sending a text message that could ruin my career but I no longer cared. I need her and that was that.

He agreed but on one condition. He’d go on his trip to Cabo and if he came back and Emerson still wanted out,

he’d accept the money and leave her alone. I agreed because I had no choice as I was clutching at straws and anxious to have her all to myself.

The jerk posting on Instagram had me reeling. I was fucking stupid and didn’t think straight. Scared she’d run back to him, my insecurity ate at me despite my phone ringing regularly with ex-lovers trying to hook up. It meant nothing since the girl who consumed me wanted nothing to do with me.

Then in walked Louisa.

She wanted what Ash had warned me about—to get back together. I hated that I thought about it for just a moment, it seemed easy and a ticket out of this drama.

But she isn’t Emerson.

Everything about Louisa was wrong. I didn’t have to tell her I was in love with someone else. My body language said it all being so withdrawn and closed in. It was enough for her to walk away with a bruised ego.

My eyes open wide with the sun shining against my skin. There are voices inside the apartment—sounds like Chris and Abbi have arrived.

This is it.

The cat’s out of the bag, and either this makes or breaks us.