Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,67

that someone else had used, but she wasn’t capable of causing the unbearable suffering that whoever was sending these letters was clearly intent on. That was born of pure evil.

Unfurling herself, Emily rose from the sofa. Barefoot, she was a head shorter than he was, and looked so small and vulnerable right now, he just wanted to hold her. He didn’t think she’d allow him to. Why in God’s name had he said the things he had? He hadn’t meant to. Why hadn’t she shown him the email she claimed to have seen? She’d said she’d deleted it. Had she? Jake wondered if it had even existed, but it would certainly explain her paranoia, her unshakeable belief that he was having sex with every woman in the vicinity.

‘Emily …’ He moved towards her, searching for a way to begin to talk to her, to apologise. ‘We need to—’

‘You managed to make it home then?’ she asked.

Hearing the facetiousness in her voice, he prayed they weren’t heading for another argument. ‘I had a call-out,’ he said guardedly.

‘Gosh, now there’s a surprise.’ Glancing at him with a mixture of disdain and hurt, Emily turned away, heading for the kitchen.

Jake followed, a chill of trepidation running through him as he noticed the open wine bottle and a half-filled glass on the island. The effects of Ritalin were similar to those of speed when taken by people who didn’t need it. Mixed with alcohol, those effects were intensified, masking the impact of alcohol on the system, which made it a dangerous combination. He needed to talk to her, but first he had to convince her she could talk to him.

Bracing himself, he tugged in a breath. ‘It was Steve Wheeler. His wife took an overdose.’ He said it bluntly, disclosing information he shouldn’t, particularly under the circumstances, because he needed her to know why he’d had no choice but to go. He hated himself for it, but he also needed to see her reaction.

‘Jenny?’ About to fill up her glass, Emily stopped. ‘But … why?’ She shook her head, as if not quite comprehending. ‘She was doing so well.’

‘She received a letter threatening to reveal her medical history,’ Jake answered, watching her carefully.

‘Oh my God, no.’ Pressing a hand to her mouth, she stared at him, horrified. He felt his heart clunk shakily back into its moorings as he saw the tears in her eyes, which confirmed how wrong he’d been. Emily was aware of all that Jennifer Wheeler had gone through. She’d looked after her when the woman had come broken and bereft to the surgery. She would never be involved in something as despicable as this. He knew her. She was the only person he’d ever felt safe confiding in. What the hell had he been thinking?

‘Is she …?’ Faltering, she locked her eyes on his, her fear palpable.

‘She’s out of the woods,’ he answered, gathering what she meant. ‘They’ll monitor her for twenty-four hours. Run ECGs. Hopefully there’ll be no lasting physical damage. The emotional damage, though …’

Tears sliding down her cheeks, Emily wrapped her arms around herself. ‘Why would someone do such a terrible thing? If they’re aware of her medical history, they would know that she might try to take her life again, wouldn’t they?’ She blinked bewilderedly at him. ‘It’s as if they were driving her to it, pushing her.’

Jake stepped forward as a shiver ran through her. Wrapping his arms tentatively around her, he eased her to him. He felt his heart breaking as she cried hard into his shoulder. How he wished they could stay like this, safe in each other’s embrace, lie together without this cold ocean between them and find some comfort in each other.

‘I’m all right,’ she said, pulling away from him as her sobs slowed to a stop. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, apologising, as if she shouldn’t have given in to her emotion.

‘Tears are allowed, Emily,’ he assured her softly. ‘They’re therapeutic.’ She didn’t know it, but he’d cried a few of his own once he’d left the hospital and got back to his car. Tears of frustration and anger. For Jenny and Steve. Zoe and Dean. Natasha and Michael. For himself. He’d only ever felt this lonely once before, years ago, when his life had been blown apart. He wasn’t sure he would survive if he lost everything that mattered to him all over again.

Emily nodded and reached for some kitchen towel. ‘I was feeling upset anyway,’ she said, dabbing her