“Oh, good.” She emerged and gave me a lopsided grin, brushing her arm over her forehead as some hair covered her eyes. “Hey, you look nice.”
I glanced down. I’d swapped the sweatshirt and jeans I wore at the gun range for a sweater and pair of pants. It wasn’t much, but they were nicer quality than the clothes I would’ve been wearing a little over a year ago. “Thanks.” Handing her glass of wine, I asked, “So what’s the news?”
“Oh, jeez. You get right to it, don’t you?”
I nodded, taking a sip. “I’m waiting.”
She groaned and finished her entire glass in one swallow.
I lifted an eyebrow. That wasn’t typical Amanda. She was nervous…or excited. Yes. Her cheeks were pink, and her face flushed. She brushed her hair back. She was excited, which had me more intrigued.
“I met a guy.”
I felt my face light up. It was time. Amanda had been there during Mallory’s dating escapades and while I went to Carter. She’d turned someone down because of me, because of Carter’s mafia connections. So she deserved this.
“Who? When? Where? Does Theresa know?” I asked in a rush.
She shook her head, but she was bursting from happiness. Squealing, she motioned for more wine, and I made sure to fill her glass all the way to the top. Giving it back, I added, “Spill, woman. I want to know.”
“He asked me to move in with him.”
My eyes got huge. For Theresa to move in with Noah was big, but for Amanda…I fanned myself and joked, “About to pass out here. I need to know everything about this guy.”
And that was when she grew quiet.
Oh, no.
My gut churned. Amanda had been giddy two seconds earlier, and now she looked in pain. My mind started backpedaling. I remembered the last time she’d spoken of a guy—back when she worked at the diner beside The Richmond, almost a year ago.
“He’s a cop,” she’d said. She’d pushed off his advances because of me, because of Carter, because of what happened after Mallory… Amanda had been the one to tell me to kill Ben.
“Make him pay. I don’t care if he was our friend. He killed her. You make him pay, Emma,” she’d said as she was dragged out of the apartment. I did what she said, but I didn’t have to. All the guilt was on me. I’d pulled the trigger. She hadn’t.
“Oh.” I put my wine down. The celebratory mood was gone. “I see.”
She hugged herself and turned away. “He kept coming back to the diner. I couldn’t…it was hard, Emma. But I’ve never said a word. I promise. I haven’t.”
But she would. She was in love. I could see that much.
I let out a sigh. “Amanda.”
I didn’t know what to say. This was bad, really bad. If Carter found out…I didn’t want to go there. I couldn’t. Amanda was family. She was from my old life. I felt sliced through the stomach, gutted.
She whispered, looking at me with begging eyes, “I love him, Emma.”
“He’s a cop.” There was no way around it.
She looked down, and said again, her voice hoarse, “I love him.”
I couldn’t be there. I knew that much. I couldn’t be anywhere around her. Dumping my wine, I went to grab my purse. Amanda beat me there. She clamped a hand over it and said, “I won’t say anything to him. I promise.”
I shook my head. She didn’t get it. “Amanda—” I started. I was dying, going to lose my last original family member. “He’s going to be it for you. You’re going to move in with him. He’s going to be your teammate. He’s going to be the other half, and eventually, it’s going to be only him. Your allegiance will be to him.”
Like mine was to Carter.
I loved her, but it was Carter first. Why couldn’t she see this? My hand curled over hers as it still held my purse. “He’s a cop,” I said again. He was the other side. “I’ve killed.”
What was she thinking? She hadn’t been, but even as I thought that, a voice whispered in my head that I still would’ve gone to Carter—even if I hadn’t needed him. Sometimes the heart decides. I would’ve gone, and I still would’ve loved him, no matter what.