Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,106

Emily could see that his eyes were deeply troubled. ‘I think your mother and I might need to have a chat.’

Millie nodded, looked uncertainly back at Emily, and did as he asked.

Jake glanced after her as she climbed the stairs, then turned to place his keys on the hall table. He didn’t look at Emily. Staring down at the keys, his brow furrowed pensively, he turned them around as if not quite satisfied with their arrangement, then removed his jacket, hanging it on one of the pegs, his movements precise, restrained almost. ‘Did Ben come back?’ he asked eventually, still not looking in Emily’s direction.

‘Yes,’ she said, nerves knotting her stomach. Something had happened. He and Millie had obviously talked; there was an unspoken communication between them. Why wasn’t he talking to her?

‘Is he okay?’ Jake checked, concerned as she’d known he would be.

‘Not brilliant,’ Emily answered. ‘He’s devastated about Natasha, naturally. I managed to get him to open up a little. He was reluctant, but he obviously knew we would be concerned about why he came home early and clearly upset last night.’

‘And he told you?’ Jake looked at her at last, his expression fraught with apprehension.

‘His girlfriend stood him up, apparently. He was too embarrassed to say anything.’ Emily had prayed that was the truth. She’d thought it was. After hearing about Edward, Ben had taken a step back towards her; been more like the child she’d thought she’d had no cause to worry about – until he’d reached his teens.

Jake nodded thoughtfully. ‘Where is he now?’

Emily noted his guarded expression. ‘At his friend’s, gaming, I expect,’ she said, watching him carefully.

‘Right.’ Jake took a breath. ‘We need to talk,’ he said, indicating the kitchen.

Confused, Emily followed him as he walked past her. She had no choice if she wanted to find out what on earth was going on.

Once in the kitchen, Jake turned to close the door, and stayed there, his hand resting on the handle, his shoulders tensing, as if he were bracing himself. Finally he turned to walk to where she stood at the kitchen island, feeling adrift and bewildered.

Stopping in front of her, he looked at her full-on at long last, studying her intently. His ocean-blue eyes were a swirl of emotion: confusion, accusation, hurt; he seemed to be looking right down into her soul.

She felt a chill of trepidation sweep through her as he pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the worktop. ‘Meet Millie’s boyfriend,’ he said, his voice tight with palpable fury. ‘But you’ve already met him. Haven’t you?’

‘Paul Lewis,’ she whispered, icy fingers tugging at her heart, her mind, dragging her back there in an instant as she looked at the photographs Jake was now splaying out on the island. Nausea swilled inside her as she pictured him, the amused look she’d mistaken for affection in his cold cobalt eyes. She could smell him, the scent of aftershave mingled with sweat, cannabis and damp brickwork assaulting her senses. She could feel him as if he were here now, his tongue pushing into her mouth, his fingers exploring intimate parts of her body. Paul Lewis. She swallowed back the sour taste in her mouth. He’d found her. He’d hurt her daughter.

‘What does he mean?’ Jake asked, snatching her thoughts back to him.

Blinking back the tears clouding her vision, Emily looked at the letter he was pushing along the work surface towards her. Does your husband know about your son? she read, and her mouth dried.

‘Are you still not going to tell me?’ Jake asked quietly. ‘Not even now, when this bastard has come after our daughter?’

Her heart beating so fast she could barely breathe, Emily looked at the girl in the photograph, who stared accusingly back. You think you’re the only one who can give in to her wild side, don’t you? You’re wrong, Emily! She heard her as if she were standing here in the room with her.

‘Talk to me, Emily,’ Jake demanded. ‘Or I swear to God—’

‘It’s not me,’ she blurted.

‘What?’ He laughed, incredulous.

‘They wanted me to be like Kara.’ She looked back at him, saw the disbelief and confusion in his eyes and looked away again. She was making no sense, she knew, but she had to try to explain. She had to. ‘They wanted me to be like her … like Kara,’ she stammered.

Jake sucked in a breath. ‘I have no idea where any of this is leading, but—’

‘Kara wanted to be me!’ she cried,