Page 46 of Wicked Empire (Knight's Ridge Empire 3)

“Have faith,” Emmie says, sounding much more confident about the guys’ skills than she usually would. Extenuating circumstances, I guess.

“I know. But…” I trail off, not wanting to lose my shit until I know for sure. “Maybe we should go back. Help or…”

“No. You need to be here. If this is something to do with that sicko that’s been following you, then he’s probably waiting somewhere for you to do exactly that.”

Emmie pushes me toward the closed toilet seat, and I lower my ass down as she rummages in the bathroom cupboard for some supplies.

She sets about cleaning up the cuts that mar my legs from dragging them through that window.

“This one is deep. It might need stitches.”

“Just cover it up, it’ll be fine.”

“Stella, I really think—”

“You said we need to stay here. I’m not going to a fucking hospital for a fancy Band-Aid.”

She glances up at me, an argument playing on her lips, but she swallows it down.

“Okay. But when they’re back, you might want to reconsider.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

She gives me a look that says it all. Seb will make you go.

Yeah, if he’s alive.

“Come on, I need more of that vodka.”

“Em?” I ask as I follow her back down to the living room.

“Yeah.”

“How did you get back here so fast?”

Her face is a little pale when I turn back around to her.

“Umm… I… uh… drove Theo’s car.”

“Uh…” I start, a smirk pulling at my lips. “He let you drive his baby?”

“Let me…” she says, her nose wrinkling.

“Oh my God. He is going to kill you.” I spin around to grab the bottle, a thought hitting me. “Wait,” I say, quickly swallowing a shot, “you don’t have a fucking license.”

“I figured it out… kinda…”

“Kinda? What did you do, Em?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“Well, what did he expect? He gave me his keys, told me to fuck off as fast as I could. I thought he was telling me to use it.”

She’s got a point—he might have been, but something tells me he wasn’t. He barely even lets us touch his car, let alone any of us near the wheel. And we have licenses.

I’m about to ask what she did again when voices downstairs hit my ears.

“They're here,” I shout, dropping the bottle and running for the stairs.

I’m halfway down, the top half of my body going faster than my legs in my need to see that he’s okay, when the front door opens.