My mother had a very religious, traditional Italian upbringing. Hence, why she’s such a devout Catholic. Her faith is everything. My father, on the other hand, is an atheist—a nonbeliever. Just another reason why those two never should’ve gotten married.
I slide my phone back into my pocket as I approach Chance. “Sorry, man, I’ve got to go.”
“Everything all right?”
“Emma’s father had a heart attack.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
EMMA
I’m numb—dead inside.
They say bad things happen in threes—Duke, Ashton, and now my dad. It’s been years since I’ve felt so broken.
There’s a heavy silence in the air as Grayson pulls up alongside a black town car parked on the tarmac. I glance out my window at the Barclay’s fancy-looking jet. I’m still stunned his family has their own plane.
Ashton’s like a real-life Richie Rich.
There’s a lady and a man both dressed in full uniform standing beside the aircraft’s steps waiting for me to board. I’m so appreciative of Valentina allowing me to use their jet, but if it were under any other circumstances, I would’ve refused. But my father needs me, and it’s imperative I get to him. I only hope I make it in time. Life without him is unfathomable.
I refuse to let my mind go there.
He’s my only family.
All I have left.
He has to be okay.
I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience as Grayson exits the car, coming around to my side and opening the door. I don’t think I could take another loss.
“We’re here,” he says, pulling me out of my haze.
Looking up at him, I force out a smile. Words will never be enough to thank Grayson for what’s he’s done for me over the past few weeks. He’s such a stand-up guy, which is more than I can say for his best friend.
I was with him and Carla when the phone call came in from Mrs. Sinclair, my father’s neighbor. Carla helped me frantically pack while Grayson called the airlines, trying to get me on a flight. Hence, how we ended up here.
My father is in the Critical Care Unit being stabilized and prepped for bypass surgery as we speak, there’s no way I could’ve waited until later tonight to fly out.
Every second counts.
I’d give anything to be able to see him before the operation, but I didn’t even ask if they could wait until I got there. I just want him fixed.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?” Grayson asks after retrieving my small suitcase from the car. Both he and Carla offered to come with me.
“Yes. I’ll get an Uber to the hospital once I land.”
“No need, I’ve organized a car to pick you up and drive you there.”
I let out a huge breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to make it as stress-free as possible. You know Carla and I are here for you if you need anything.”
I’m yet to cry, I know it’s due to shock, but I can slowly feel myself unraveling inside as each minute passes.
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“Keep us updated.”
He pulls me in for a quick hug before stepping back.
“I will,” I say, reaching for the handle of my suitcase. “And thanks again for everything.”
As I go to walk away, Grayson’s brows pinch together as he eyes something over my shoulder. I turn to look, and my breath hitches in my throat when I see Ashton stepping out of the town car.
Not here, not now.
I’ve spent the last few weeks avoiding him like the plague. It’s been hard, but a necessity. I’m running on empty and barely coping as it is. I can’t deal with his shit today.
My heart races as the driver retrieves a bag from the trunk, handing it to him. His eyes are fixed on me as he walks toward us.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Grayson asks when he stops a few feet away.
Ashton looks tired and stressed, and the heart-wrenching sadness that flashes through his eyes at Grayson’s harsh words makes the heavy weight in my chest intensify. It hurts me to think that what’s happened between us has affected their friendship.
Ashton’s eyes move from his to mine. “I’m sorry about your dad, Em.”
“Thank you,” I reply as my gaze drops to the ground.
I can’t look at him.
I just can’t.
“I’m going with her,” he tells Grayson.
Oh God.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, raising my head.
Ashton reaches for my hand, and as much as I want to jerk away from his touch, I don’t. A tiny smile tugs at his lips as his thumb brushes over my palm. It sends tingles rocketing up my arm. I hate that after everything that’s happened, my traitorous body still reacts to him.
“I’m not letting you face this, or the fucking people in that town, on your own.”
My body stiffens. “I’m a big girl, I don’t need your protection. I’m stronger than you think.”
I survived them.
I survived him.
Although they are the sole reason I’ve stayed away—the reason I haven’t been to visit my father in over six months. My heart constricts at the thought.
“Irrelevant, sweet-thing. I’m still coming.”
My eyes dart to Grayson, and I find him grinning. Ugh! He’s happy Ashton’s coming with me.
Snatching my hand from Ashton’s, I reach for the handle on my suitcase and march toward the plane.
“Take care of her,” I hear Grayson say as I walk away.
“You know I will.” Right, like the time you fucked me and kicked me out of your house. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’m going to stay as long as she needs me. You’ll be okay at the office without me, right?”
“Of course.”
I glance over my shoulder and see them hug. Gah. I guess all is forgiven, and their bromance is back on.
“Miss Phoenix,” the female says when I reach the plane. She smiles pleasantly as she takes my luggage.
She’s beautiful.
“Please call me Emma.”
“My name is Jasmin, and I’ll be your hostess during the flight. This is Captain Johnson, the pilot.”
“Hello.” My eyes move between them.
My body starts to hum the moment Ashton comes to stand beside me. “Jasmin… Dale,” he says, and the hostess’ face lights up like a damn Christmas tree. His mere presence seems to have that effect on the female population. My eyes dart to him, the grin he returns her is huge. He has a smile that steals hearts for a living.
Manwhore.
He’s probably fucked her too.
“Mr. Barclay,” they reply in unison.
“Come, Em.” He places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me up the stairs.
“It’s Emma to you,” I mumble. We’re not friends anymore, so he doesn’t have the right to call me that.
I gasp when we enter the cabin. I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t this. Plush cream leather seats, not in rows like what you’d find on a normal plane. They’re divided into sections and sporadically placed throughout. A curved wooden, well-stocked bar sits at the far end, there’s a long leather couch down one side, and the letter ‘B’ is monogrammed into the fabric.