“What matters here,” my father says, “is they’ve had patients enter remission that otherwise were thought to be imminently terminal. I won’t be giving up control of the company as quickly as I thought might be necessary.”
My mother hands me her glass and embraces my father. Emily moves forward and takes my father’s glass as well, and he wraps my mother in his arms. Derek’s gaze meets mine and he eyes the chess table sitting on the far left wall. “Let’s play, shall we?”
The last thing I want is to join Derek in a game of chess, but it’s better than standing here, looking at each other. I down my champagne and set both glasses on the coffee table. “Game on,” I say, giving him my back, my hands coming down on Emily’s shoulders, softening my voice. “You okay?”
“Of course. I’m not fragile.”
My lips quirk. “No. No, you are not.”
“But please kick his ass in chess.”
“I will,” I promise, releasing her to claim the leather chair across the table from my brother. “How long has this game been set up and going?”
“Seven years,” he supplies, “but I say we end it tonight.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s end it tonight.”
We start playing, and the game is quickly intense. I lose track of time. My father pulls a chair up to sit between us. My mother tries to get us to break for dinner. But Derek and I stare at the board and soon I am backed into a corner. Derek’s gaze meets mine. “You could always sacrifice your queen and let her die a royal death. Would it—would she—be worth it to win?”
My blood runs cold, the threat against Emily clear. I am about to reach in my pocket and remove the tape I made of him at Teresa’s house the other night when my father leans in close and says, “If anything happens to Emily, Derek, I will disinherit you. And I mean anything, so you damn sure better hope a natural disaster doesn’t happen.” He reaches into his pocket and sets a piece of paper on the board. “There’s the amended page. It’s done. She’s one of us now and we protect her.”
“Why do you care about Emily?”
I might be shocked at my father’s actions, obviously planned to be a part of this night, but his motivation is clear to me. He wants my support to take down Mike, which means he’ll protect what is mine. His answer, however, is more simply his own, typical of who he is, and always has been. “Because only pussies use their women to fight their wars. Real men, Brandon men, fight one-on-one.”
Derek stands up and so do I, but my gaze lands on the empty spot where Emily no longer sits. I forget about my brother and my father, cutting around them to find Emily is not in the room. Nor is she with my mother, who is standing by the fireplace. She lifts a finger to point toward the door, the look on her face warning me that Emily had reacted to the exchange that just took place. Exiting the library, I search the foyer and the kitchen, my gut telling me she’s outside. Sure enough, she’s standing under a tree in the center of the yard, and she hasn’t even bothered with her wrap. Concerned, I walk to her but she doesn’t turn when I know she must hear my steps.
“Emily,” I say, stepping in front of her, my hands settling against her neck, under her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Your brother threatened to kill me.”
“I don’t think that’s what he meant.”
“Your father did. What are we doing here? What is happening?”
I press my forehead to hers. “We’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I think I need you to promise that right now.”
“I promise.”
In that moment, I know I should offer to send her away again, but I can’t find the words. I can’t send her away. No matter how selfish it makes me, I need her too much to let her go. And if I have to use the tape I made to protect her, even at the expense of Derek’s life, I will. Without question and for the first time, I can say it without guilt. I know that means that this war has changed me. I know that winning it—which I must—will change me even more. But I am also certain that I won’t lose myself, as long as I don’t lose Emily.