Page 8 of Splintered Memories (Ember Hollow Romance #2)

Emersyn

I halted my scrolling, muscles tensing as I caught a glimpse of the butterfly emoji in my comments section.

Hand clamping around the mouse, I forced in a steadying breath.

Trolling comments on my videos have never bothered me, but in recent months, some have gotten less insulting and more… threatening.

My eyes lingered on the butterflies. They were nothing threatening to someone who didn’t know that they were the Shadow Stalker’s calling card…the image he carved into the skin of his victims before he dumped their bodies.

A shutter skittered up my spine from the base of my tailbone all the way up to my shoulders. This particular comment had no words, but they often did. Sometimes they commented on how I was being watched, how I couldn’t escape the Shadow Stalker, or how I was going to get what was coming to me.

I stifled yet another shiver as I recalled the physical note that had been left on my door last December. It had been what made me install a new security system and cameras that very month .

You looked better with brunette hair, Emy, the note had said. Complete with a lone butterfly sticker beneath the words.

Shadow Stalker’s victims were all brunette young women.

Two sharp raps erupted from my door, distracting me from thoughts of the serial killer and his threats.

My eyes cut from my monitor to the door that led outside from my walk-out basement.

Ignoring the spike of fear in my chest, I pushed away from my desk and stood.

I was in the middle of answering comments on my latest video, but my irritation at being interrupted from my work was overshadowed by the fact that no one was supposed to come to this door.

This entrance was off to the side of my house, inside the fenced area of my yard, and unless I specifically invited someone to enter here, no one did.

Pulling out my phone, I opened my security app and checked the camera positioned at that door.

My heart sank, my fear ebbing as conflicting emotions passed through me so quickly it left me dizzy.

Two figures stood outside the door. One had his arms crossed tight over his chest, while the other smoothed down the lapel of his ridiculously expensive suit.

Neither of their presences made sense, and the fact that they were together made even less.

It might have been nothing but pure curiosity that made me flick over the dead bolt and pull the door open.

My father’s gaze met mine, something flashing in his that was gone faster than I was able to identify it. It had been awhile since I’d seen him in person—on the day my mother died five years ago.

He looked older. The silver in his hair was more evident, as were the lines around his eyes. He was still handsome as he aged, though. I wondered briefly whether he had another partner now that Mom was gone.

“Emersyn.” He tilted his chin forward.

My name was so familiar on his lips, and it tore at a jagged memory in my chest. I pushed the feeling down, replacing it with wary coldness.

My eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?” One blink was the only tell at his surprise in my tone. I supposed he wasn’t used to receiving much from me other than blind obedience. “And why the hell did you come to this door?”

A grimace curled my father’s lip, but someone else answered my question for him.

“We went to the front door, but you didn’t answer.”

My gaze slid to the man standing behind my father. August Ramsey looked different. His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by a tense jaw and a muscle fluttering along his cheek.

“I knew you had soundproofed your studio so I suggested we try this door before we left,” he continued.

My body stiffened at the use of the word “we.” Anyone who aligned themselves with Tristan Hawthorn was immediately suspect in my book.

“I need to speak with you,” my father said.

I glared up at him. “I am working .” I emphasized the last word. “I’m sure whatever the hell this is could’ve been taken care of with a simple phone call.”

It was my father’s turn to tense. His nose wrinkled at the bridge. “Maybe it could have, but I don’t have your number, Emersyn. I haven’t known your number for years. ”

The fact that he was acting as if that were my fault put my teeth on edge. I was sure, being the wealthy man he was, with many connections in this town, that he could’ve found my number easily. I opened my mouth to say as much, but he raised a finger before I could speak.

“And don’t pretend you wouldn’t have hung up on me the moment you heard my voice. I’m not an idiot and this is important.”

I closed my mouth again. Fine. I gave him that.

My gaze bounced between the two men standing on my doorstep. “What exactly is so important?”

Whatever it was, a sick feeling crawled up my spine. This couldn’t be good.

“May we come in?” my father asked, voice gentle, but cautious.

“No,” I said, immediately.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want to stand out here and argue with you. The neighbors will start to talk.”

“I don’t care what my neighbors say.” But I knew that he did.

“Ten minutes,” he grumbled between his teeth. “That’s all I need.”

Everything in me revolted at the idea of letting him into my home.

This was a place I had built all on my own.

Maybe not with my two hands, but I had worked so hard to buy this house.

I’d poured everything into making a place for myself, a place that was all mine and no one else’s.

A place that felt safe after so many years of constant fear in the spaces where I lived.

My eyes sought out August again. He still looked…unsettled. The planes of his face were harder, but his eyes softened as he noticed my gaze. Something in my chest shifted, ever so slightly. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the rebellion in me ea sed a fraction.

My finger twitched around the door handle as I looked back at my father. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to let him in or shut that door in his face, until the words slipped from my mouth in a terse, clipped warning.

“Ten minutes,” I said. “That’s all the patience I have.” Then, I let them in.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, regretting my decision the moment my father stepped inside my space.

“Thank you.” He let out a relieved breath, his shoulders sagging with it.

I walked clear across the room, leaning my hip against my desk as I pinned the two of them with a stare, silently warning them they were not welcome to step in any farther.

They didn’t.

“What do you want?” I glanced at my watch, noting the time to keep track.

My father sounded more annoyed than anything when he spoke next. “You are a grumpy little thing, aren’t you?”

I speared him with another glare, ignoring the slight grin that curled August’s lips in my periphery. “I am what you made me, I suppose,” I said, my tone soft, but venomous.

That made him stiffen, and I thought I saw a flash of grief flit over his face. “I’m here on your behalf, Emersyn. I’m here to help you.”

I scoffed. “I highly doubt it.”

He took a step toward me, and my back straightened. Even from across the room, he felt too close.

His brows pinched. “You’re in danger. You know that. ”

My pulse quickened. You’re in danger. I hoped he couldn’t see the exhaustion in my eyes from the sleep I hadn’t been able to find since the shooting. The gunshots echoed in my ears every time I tried to close my eyes.

I still didn’t know much about the shooting. I’d been questioned and sent on my way, like nothing had happened. In my mind, I was trying to cling to the possibility that those shots hadn’t been intended for me. I didn’t want to overreact before I had all the facts.

I pushed back my shoulders. “I can take care of myself.”

My father’s eyes sharpened, like he could sense my bravado. “I’d rather not take that risk.”

I blinked. “You almost sound like you care,” I said, before I could stop myself.

My father’s entire body went rigid. His eyes widened, anger and pain swirling in them like a tornado of rising emotions he couldn’t get hold of quickly enough. He took another step forward.

Every part of me wanted to back up, but there was nowhere to go, my desk solid and unmovable behind me.

“Why the hell would you ever think that I wouldn’t care that my daughter’s life was being threatened?” His voice was a mixture of sharp steel and stabbing hurt. “You and your brother are the only things I have left.”

A burn flared in my chest. After all these years, after everything we had been put through, now he cared about us? Now, when we were all grown, was when he made an effort to protect us?

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you want.” I forced the words out, hammering away all feeling from them so he wouldn’t see the confusion and pain blazing inside me. I kept a firm grip on that emotion, keeping it locked down. That imaginary hand inside my chest kept an iron-clad hold on it.

My father’s eyes widened. “I want you to stay safe,” he said, a desperation in his voice that I had never heard before.

A pang twisted in my chest again.

After a long pause, I answered, “I have a new security system. I have cameras all around this house. I’m not that reckless. I know how to be safe.”

My father shook his head. “It’s not enough.”

I frowned, and a realization dawned, one that had my stomach lurching. My gaze snapped to August, and then back to my father. He seemed to read the understanding in my expression because he nodded.

“No,” I said, so fast the words toppled over one another. “Definitely not. No.”

My father scoffed. “Calm down, Emersyn. He’s going to be your bodyguard, not your prison guard.”

My heart sputtered. I wasn’t sure there was a difference between those two things. I had no idea what my father thought he was doing, waltzing back into my life after five years, only to regain control of it.

My head shook back and forth. “No,” I said firmly, with finality. I wasn’t going to let a freaking bodyguard trail me around this little town. I wouldn’t put myself under my father’s power. And most of all, I wasn’t going to allow August Ramsey to get that close to me.

My father let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Yes.” He said the word so simply, as if my compliance were inevitable. “You need protection.” I opened my mouth to argue again, but he put up a hand. “You will do this, Emersyn. ”

My jaw clenched, rage bubbling up from my core. “Or what?” I said, in challenge. “What are you going to do to me? I don’t need anything from you anymore.”

I spat the words, wanting them to slap him right across the face.

My father didn’t even flinch. If anything, he looked more tired than threatened.

He ran a hand over his short beard; the lines around his eyes deepened as he regarded me with weariness.

“You might not need anything from me anymore,” he said softly, cautiously, as if he knew what he said next would hit me hard, “but your brother does.”

Fire lit inside my chest, burning so hot it scalded my lungs, making my breath catch. “You wouldn’t,” I breathed.

He knew how fragile Jake was right now. He was a year sober, but he had a long way to go. He just moved into that apartment, was finally getting on his feet and rebuilding his life. I was confident he’d get to a place where he wouldn’t need our father’s charity to get by, but that time was not now.

“I will do what I have to, to keep you safe.”

I leaned into my desk, legs wobbly from the seething rage I barely managed to keep down. My fingernails dug into the wood. “You’d evict your own son? Throw him back out on the street?”

My father winced.

Good. He deserved it. When his dark eyes met mine, there was a world of mourning in them, but I chose not to recognize it. I refused to feel pity for him.

“I know that you won’t let me evict him, because you are going to accept what I’m offering.”

God, I hated him .

I shook now. That burning in my chest started to rise in my throat. Tears threatened to well behind my eyes, but I focused all my anger on forcing it down. I was good at it after all these years.

I stared at my father, hoping he felt every lick of flame that raged inside my chest. My mind whirred with possible ways to get out of this, each one leading to a dead end. I had moved Jake into that apartment. I’d seen the hope in his eyes, the tentative excitement in his voice.

I could move him back in with me, but no matter how much I liked having him here, it wasn’t right for him. Living under my roof made him feel inferior, in some way. Though he’d never complained, I’d seen the struggle every day he had lived under my roof.

He needed his own place. He needed my father’s support, even more than he needed mine.

The silence went on for a long time. My father’s brows rose. “Emersyn?” He said my name as a question he needed answered.

My gaze flicked to August. I expected to see pity on his face, or maybe embarrassment at the way my father and I were fighting in front of him.

But I saw neither of those things. I wasn’t sure exactly what emotion lingered on his face, but it was…

comforting, somehow, even in the chaos warring inside me.

He looked at me like…like I was something he admired.

The expression had a rush of heat touching my cheeks, a sliver escaping the fire I held firmly inside my chest. I looked away before I could read more into the look August gave me, meeting the gaze of my father.

He looked at me expectantly, awaiting my reply.

“Fine,” I spat out, the word reluctantly tearing through me.

I could do this, for my brother. I could accept this attempt to control my life, for a little while. For Jake .

But as I snuck another brief glimpse at August’s bright, gray eyes…fear sunk its all-too familiar claws into me. I wasn’t sure why, but this one little agreement felt like I was giving my whole life away.