Last Resort by Amelia Wilde

Author:Amelia Wilde
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Dangerous Press
Published: 2022-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Emerson

The gentlest touch brushes my forehead.

My mother, I think. The thought comes from the deepest part of the dark. Down here, there’s no time. No body.

Too tired for this.

She touches my cheek, running her thumb across it. I want to stay sleeping. But I want to feel this, too. It’s good. It doesn’t hurt.

From far away, I think I hear Sinclair.

“Sin’s back?” I say, turning my face into the pillow. “They came back?”

I wiggle my toes and they meet the bedpost. It’s low, just above the mattress. I can’t sleep without it. Not well, anyway. I need the anchors. I can reach them with the smallest stretch. That would make me fairly tall, to be able to reach the end of the bed.

The fingertips move down to my shoulder and skim the curve there.

“Oh, I really don’t want to shake you,” a woman says. She has a beautiful voice. “If you can’t wake up, I’ll just tell him that, I guess. Emerson.” A small hand rubs over my bicep. My elbow. Back up. “Emerson. Your brother’s here.”

Daphne.

I roll onto my back, the heat of her touch lingering, and throw an arm over my face. “Brother?”

“Sinclair. He came over. He wants to talk to you.”

“Too early.”

“It’s past ten.”

I uncover my face and find her standing at the side of the bed, looking pink and sheepish and lovely. Daphne’s wearing leggings and one of my sweatshirts. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, and she smells like the shampoo I bought her.

“You’ve been awake without me.” I swing my legs to the other side of the bed. I never sleep this long.

She shrugs. “I would have let you sleep longer, but Sin said he’d come up here and get you himself.”

“My god.” I rub both hands over my face, then hook my arm around her waist and pull her close. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay.” Daphne kisses my cheek and goes out. Her footsteps are quick and light on the stairs. The murmur of her voice on the first floor warms the room.

Teeth. Clothes. I’m halfway down the stairs when Daphne comes up. “I just wanted my sketchbook. Sin’s in the kitchen.”

He is indeed. He stands by the window, his hands in his pockets. My brother turns around as I come through the door. His hair’s a mess. Mouth in a set line.

Sin looks me up and down. “What the fuck happened?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“No, it was not a good morning. It was a morning that started with Will calling me to say you disappeared in the night. You didn’t answer calls. You didn’t answer texts.”

I haven’t looked at my phone since Leo handed it back to me last night. “I was busy.”

“We thought you might be dead.” He looks oddly pale. And oddly serious. Sin is the one who takes the most risks. He’s the one who doesn’t give a fuck. He’s the one who went to LA and just now decided to come back.

“I’m not dead.

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