Page 87 of The Scarab's Game
You’re no better than him. You used Jenn to get close to the De Rosas.
I was a man who froze at the sound of Enzo’s voice.
He kidnapped you.What did you expect to do when you heard him?
“It can just be physical, Emmett.” She swallowed, the sex kitten growing apprehensive. “I don’t need any promises of what comes tomorrow or next week or when we get home.”
“You deserve more.” Like a man who could tell her the truth, who wasn’t hiding an entire career she didn’t understand. Who wasn’t hiding his sister’s lies. I’d told Jenn a few truths to win her trust, but the rest of it? How would she react?
Her voice dropped, and she flexed her wrists under my grip. “I deserve to be happy.”
I couldn’t make her happy.
“What you’re asking for…” The words were bitter on my tongue, but I forced them out, anyway. “It’s not something I can give you. Not now, not ever.”
She flinched, hurt flashing across her face before she masked it with determination. “You can. We’ve always been friends, and I know you.”
“You don’t know the real me.” I took a step back, creating distance between us. It was for her own good, even if it felt like tearing out a piece of my soul.
She stared at me, easing her arms down and blinking as though trying to understand what I was saying.
“Youdodeserve to be happy, but I’m not the kind of man who’s capable of giving you that.”
“That’s a shitty excuse.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “One night, Emmett. Not forever.”
Fuck. One night? It would be too easy to give in, to lose myself in her for a few hours. But one night would never be enough, and I’d only end up hurting her more in the long run.
“Jenn, listen to me. You don’t understand. There are things about me, things I’ve done… You wouldn’t want me if you knew the truth.”
“It’s not me, it’s you? Seriously?” Her gaze dropped, cheeks flaming as red as ever. Tears welled against her lids. “What’s wrong with me? Why do I always?—”
“Stop that, right now.” My gut twisted. Every dream I’d had of her over the years came rushing back. She was the pure fantasy, always out of reach. If I told her how long I’d wanted her, she’d never buy it.
“My god, I can’t believe I…” She pulled her gaping shirt closed, curling her shoulders in. “Just go to bed and pretend this never happened.”
She was crying.
Because of me.
Because I was letting every little voice into my head. Her father’s. My sister’s. Rav’s.
Goddamn Noah and Enzo for showing up and making this fucking trip worse.
“It’s not…”Fuck. Fucking fuck.I stood there, pathetic, as her tears fell. Every instinct screamed at me to pull her close, to wipe away those tears. But I couldn’t.
‘You’re not good enough for Jenn. You never will be,’her father had said.
My hand slipped into my pocket, fingers closing around the poker chip. The weight of it, the memories it carried, anchored me. I’d been running for so long, hiding behind lies and half-truths. I couldn’t keep doing it, not with her. She deserved… something—some kind of explanation.
Tell her the truth. For once, tell someone the truth.
I took the chip out of my pocket. Holding it lightly between two fingers, I let someone else see it for the first time. “I’m damaged goods, Jenn.”
Her shoulders heaved with her quiet tears. She tried walking away from me, but I put a gentle hand out to stop her.
“At the end of April, I was at a poker game in New York City with Malcolm.” I rolled the chip over my knuckles. Its blue face and white edge spots flashed with each turn. I could have done it blindfolded. Described every millimeter of the chip without hesitating. “Three masked men broke in and took us.”
My story must have confused her, because she stopped crying.