It feels as if I was living a halfway normal life, and then one day, I woke up trapped in an alternate universe, where crazy shit I never could’ve even dreamed of happens. But unfortunately, as I steal a confirming glance to my left to where my parents and brother are seated, and then across the row to where the Listers are huddled together, I’m forced to accept this has become my reality. And I don’t know how to make it stop.
If things weren’t fucked up enough with everything involving Blake’s situation concerning two rival mafia families, the FBI, and the US Marshals, they only became more convoluted Saturday night when Emerson’s parents found a suicide note at her townhome, stating that she couldn’t go on living after she had messed everyone’s life up the way she had—namely mine. At first, when Easton told me what had happened, I didn’t believe it. As bad as it sounds, I thought Emerson was much too self-absorbed to take her own life, and I assumed it was only a ploy to get attention and make me feel sorry for her.
However, after a homeless man reported seeing a red-headed woman throw herself from a fishing jetty at one of the pocket beaches not far from where she lived, and the police subsequently found Blake’s empty car parked nearby, it appeared I was wrong. Even though they’ve been unable to find her body—which most likely became shark bait not long after she flung herself into the Pacific Ocean—and the case is still under investigation, for all intents and purposes, it seems that Emerson Lister is indeed dead. And I’ve had to answer to a thousand questions, not only from her family and my parents, but also the authorities.
After showing them the footage from the night in my bedroom, neither Marshal Doherty nor Agent Lance were too thrilled to discover the method I’d used to coax Emerson’s declaration of guilt out of her, both implying I probably was the reason she ended her life. But even more than that, because Easton blew our cover when he left my house while I was on my way home from seeing Blake, they were downright furious with me for flying to Reno on another renegade mission. Of course, I haven’t admitted to them any of the details of my trip, and thankfully, neither have Easton or Jae. All of us have stuck to the story we’d agreed upon prior to the mission that I’d seen a piece of mail at Blake’s apartment with a Lake Tahoe address, so I’d gone to investigate. And even though they can’t prove any of us are lying, they’re all extremely suspicious, and I’d bet money they’ve got people up there combing the area now.
“Madden, honey, it’s over,” my mom whispers as she nudges my shoulder, pulling me back to reality with her touch. “Please tell me you’ve changed your mind about coming this evening. I need you there.”
I turn to face her and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Mom, I know these last couple of days have been hard on you and Dad, seeing as though you knew Emerson since the time she was a kid, but I’m serious about not coming to the dinner. I agreed on the funeral, for your benefit only, but I refuse to sit around and listen while everyone talks about how wonderful of a person she was. I’m sorry she’s dead, but I can’t forgive her for what she did to Blake. And to me.”
More tears spill from her eyes, causing additional black streaks to stain her pale cheeks, and even though it kills me to upset her, I’m not giving in on this. She’s brought it up no less than five times since yesterday, and my answer remains the same. I’m not going.
“Keep your voice down, son. And can’t you stop by, even if it’s only for a few minutes? Your brother has agreed to come for a little while.” My dad leans over Mom’s shoulder and pins me with the look that reminds me no matter how old I am, they are still my parents. But even that isn’t going to work this time.
“Dad, I’m sorry,” I give a stern shake of my head, “but the answer is no. I understand why you guys feel the need to do this for Mr. and Mrs. Lister, and Easton is free to do whatever he wants; however, I will not be coming. And that’s the last I’m discussing the matter. Now, please excuse me. I have someone I’m meeting with this afternoon.”
Spinning around on my heel, I leave my distressed parents and spineless brother behind and push my way through the crowd of people still loitering in the center aisle and back area of the sanctuary. No one besides the authorities, my family, and the Listers knows the details of the suicide note left by Emerson, where she eludes to what she did, so most of these friends and family members can’t understand why a beautiful, well-educated young woman with a great job and wealthy, supportive parents would choose to end her life so suddenly. I’ve been asked repeatedly by her parents and mine to not make public the story of what happened, and even though I’ve agreed in principle, if someone straight out asked me for the truth, I doubt I’d lie.
Special Agent Lance is waiting for me in the parking lot when I burst through the stained-glass and wood door, leaning against the side of his black SUV parked next to my car, talking to someone on the phone. As soon as he sees me, he ends the call and straightens his posture, and when I approach the vehicles, he tips his chin to acknowledge my presence.
“Where are we heading now, Mr. Decker? To your parents’ house?” he asks assumingly.
“No,” I snap as I unlock my car with the keyless remote. “I’m meeting Jae for dinner.”
I slide onto the leather driver’s seat without any further information. It’s a given that he’s going to follow me, and probably even come inside to eat at a separate table while we’re there, all the while keeping his trained gaze fixed on me, making sure I don’t attempt another sneaky getaway. All I can hope is to keep Jae’s and my conversation as private as possible and pray they aren’t tracking her laptop activity.
The drive to the small Mexican food restaurant I chose for us to meet, not too far from her condo, takes longer than I anticipated, thanks to some construction work and the beginning of rush hour traffic. Ever since all of this started with Blake’s disappearance, the project she and Jae were working on for Decker Enterprises—my company—has been put on hold. Indefinitely. The only reason I ever fucking said yes to Easton in the first place about that stupid video game project, seeing as how it has absolutely nothing to do with what we do, is because I thought if he had an interest in something at work, he’d actually care. Sadly, I was wrong, but the silver lining of it all is that it resulted in me meeting Blake.
But now with everything going on, and upon my request, their employer has agreed to grant Jae a paid leave of absence—one I’m virtually paying for—while he waits for me to give him direction on the next step of the contract. I don’t mind though; Jae and I have quickly become good friends in the last couple of weeks, as neither of us have anyone else we can talk to about what’s going on. It’s amazing how much it can help sometimes just to rant to someone, knowing damn well they have no answers, but that they’ll just sit there and listen to you get it all off your chest. Plus, she’s always quick to fill in the holes of my plans when the thoughts in my brain are whirring too quickly and I leave gaping indiscretions.
Well, she’s the only person other than Easton, and at this moment, I’m not sure how I feel about my little brother. Despite his change of attitude and actually showing up around the office, I still partially blame my brother for everything that’s going on. No, he wasn’t the one who turned Blake over to the Russians, but if he weren’t involved with them in the first place, Emerson wouldn’t have had that point of contact to make the deal happen. However, I have to give him credit in that so far he hasn’t breathed a word of what’s going on to anyone. Not even when they kept him the entire day after Emerson’s note and car were discovered, trying to coax any information he may have about the Kabinovs out of him.