“Maggie,” he says in a warning. But I’m too riled up now. Maybe it’s exhaustion and adrenaline, but I can’t stop. He started it.
“I don’t blame you for what happened with Charlie, but don’t stand there and act like you have his best interests at heart and I don’t.”
“I would do anything for my son, and you know it.”
“Everyone knows it!” I shout. “But what are you trying to protect him from, Emerson? Me? The club? Do you really think your son would be hurt by kink? Are you really that much of a fraud?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he growls as he turns away.
“Why? Because I’m not a parent? Well, I love him. I would do anything for him too. And I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to understand.”
He’s fuming silently as he stares out at the dark parking lot.
“If you’re not ashamed of it, then why did you keep it a secret?” he mutters quietly.
“I’m not ashamed of anything,” I reply with my fists clenched.
“Then why lie to me?” he bellows.
“Because you’re Emerson fucking Grant and what you say goes. You want to control everything and I knew that you’d try to control us. Well, you might be Charlotte’s Dom, but you’re not mine.”
My teeth are clenched as I glare at him, heat and anger mixed with adrenaline, creating a lethal combination of no fucks given. I’m tired of tiptoeing. I’m tired of asking for permission or forgiveness. The days of making myself as small and as quiet as possible are over.
When he doesn’t respond to my outrage, I take it as a good sign.
“It was on your app, you know? That’s how we found each other. Beau took the quiz—"
“He did?” His head snaps up with a look of shock.
Slowly, I nod. His gaze is practically burning a hole through me as I watch him work out the rest. Beau’s sex life is none of Emerson’s business, but it doesn’t take a genius to piece together that puzzle. Now that everyone and their mother knows my quiz results, it’s not hard to imagine what his were if it paired us together.
“Is it serious? Between you two?” he asks with a soft gaze on my face.
“Yes,” I reply proudly. Then, because it feels like a rip the bandage off kind of night, I add in the kicker. “He’s coming with me to Phoenix…permanently.”
I might as well have knocked all the air out of him. His nostrils flare as he forces a swallow and looks away. Then I watch with pity as he crumbles, dropping his ass to the curb with his back to me. I have to swallow the emotion building like needles in my throat.
“Emerson?” I ask after a few minutes.
“I just need a minute, Maggie. It’s a lot to absorb.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
We sit in silence for a while, and after almost an hour goes by, I start to feel like I might die of impatience. Just as I’m about to walk back in and ask for more answers, a man in scrubs finds us outside.
“You’re here for the man with the head wound?” he asks.
Emerson and I jump up at the same time and stare at him with matching hopeful expressions on our faces.
“Yes, how is he?”
“He’s stable,” he says, and we both let out heavy sighs. “He’s awake and in recovery. He suffered a severe concussion and will need to stay for at least the next twenty-four hours for observation. They’re taking him back now for a CT scan to rule out a TBI.”
“Can we see him?” I ask.