WHO KILLED EMMALINE?

This book is meant for entertainment purposes only. Names, characters and events are all products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. All comments and conversations written within these pages are part of a fictional story and are not meant to be taken in the literal sense. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.

Edited by S.R. James

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Epilogue

I should feel triumphant, pleased, even amused, but those emotions have deserted me. I’d accept anything over this hollow feeling that has burrowed deep within my chest. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

I’m
the one who ended it with him. I left him before he could turn on me and end things first, because my games are never over until I decide they’re over. He’d been angry, just as I’d been expecting. I’d even been pleased by his show of emotion, that is until his green eyes had turned cold, and then he’d seemed to see right
through
me.

A soft curse escapes me as I pull my car into the long and winding driveway that leads to the two-story, luxurious home I share with my parents.

The house is dark, as usual.

Just to annoy my dad, I park my car out front instead of parking it in the garage like I’m supposed to. In the Monroe family, everything has to be perfect. The outside of the house, the inside, me…

But I’m not.

I’m flawed.

It’s that flaw that makes me do bad things, and the attention it brings me is a high like no other. On the outside, I’m the perfect, pretty, rich girl that has the world at its knees. The real Emmaline though…she’s your worst nightmare.

A frown mars my face as I turn off the ignition and climb out of the car. Maybe I’m going soft, because I think I fell for him.

I
fell for that freak, Cord Bodine.

Go figure.

I even feel
guilty
for the manipulation and blackmail I’ve dealt out in the past month. Looks like I have a heart after all, and now it’s aching over the way I’d ended things with Cord.

As I walk towards the darkened house, I swipe at a mosquito buzzing around my face. Damn woods. Why we have to live up in the hills is beyond me. Sure, the house is beautiful and fits our lifestyle, but we live miles away from anything resembling humanity.

I hate this town.

I make my way up the steps leading to the front door, scowling. No one is home—no big surprise. Usually, they at least leave the front light on for me, though. I press the button on the keypad next to the door, and it immediately lights up so I can see it. I’m just beginning to enter the password when I hear a footfall directly behind me. I try to spin around, but something soft presses tightly against my nose and mouth, and arms like steel wrap around my body.

I try screaming, but all that does is allow the cloying scent from the fabric to filter into my lungs as I inhale.

Is this a prank?

Is Cord playing one last and final game with me as a means of payback for all my terrible deeds, or have I finally pushed him too far?

My struggles are useless as I feel myself being dragged down the stairs and away from the safety of my home. Blackness surrounds me as my consciousness fades, and my very last thought is that Cord Bodine is much more of a freak than I ever imagined.

I stare dismally out the rental truck’s passenger window, my mood growing heavier as we draw closer to our new home.

It’s official.

We have left civilization behind, and we are now cruising through the rural hillsides of Ambler Ridge, New Hampshire.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

I look at the greenery hovering along either side of the road, feeling quite unimpressed. “I like the city better.”

My mom sighs from where she sits in the driver’s seat. “Krista, give it a chance. You might actually grow to like it here.”

“Doubt it,” I murmur under my breath.

I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, I knew my mom would eventually remarry. I’d been kind of hoping for it ever since dad divorced her and left us both several years back, but for it to happen this way…

Six months ago, everything had begun to change when Mitch Channing entered my mom’s life. He’d come to Indiana to attend some sort of convention, and he’d quite literally ran into my mom on the sidewalk, and that’s how their affair started.

Yes, I said affair.

Mitch was married at the time, but apparently, the connection my mom and Mitch developed was no match for his marriage vows. He’d filed for divorce, and my mom and Mitch had continued to date while they’d kept their relationship a secret from me.

She claims she kept the affair quiet so that when she eventually introduced me to Mitch, I wouldn’t judge him based on his unfaithfulness to his wife. After all, my own father was a cheater himself.

I can understand how she’d want to avoid that comparison, so I can sort of make sense of her skewed mentality on the subject. What I
can’t
understand is how Mitch and my mom could get married at a courthouse before the ink was even dry on his divorce papers.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Krista…”

I promised myself at the beginning of this drive that I wouldn’t engage in any arguments, but after sitting in this truck with her for hours, I’m due to let off some steam. I face her and shoot her an accusing look. “Mom, you didn’t even introduce him to me until you were married. One day everything is normal, then the next, I have a stepdad. Trust me, I can stay mad for as long as I want. I’ve earned it.”

My mom flushes as she glances at me before turning back to the road. “Okay, so maybe Mitch and I misjudged the situation and rushed things, but our intentions were well-meaning. We certainly never meant to hurt you.”

I level her with a look. “You guys had a shotgun wedding—minus the baby—because you were worried I’d somehow throw a kink into your plans if I’d known about them beforehand. You rushed it deliberately.”

She glances at me, her expression pleading for me to understand. “You and I both know you would have tried to talk us out of it. Honey, I love him so much. He’s a wonderful man, and I wasn’t about to let anyone come between us. Besides, it just felt right. This all feels like it was meant to happen, Krista. We belong with Mitch, I feel it with my whole heart.”

Someone kill me now
, I think as I refrain from rolling my eyes. “You need to stop reading those stupid romance books. Stuff like that does not happen in real life. It’s a bunch of bull.”

I spy her taking in a deep breath, probably drawing on her last reserve of patience. It’s been a
long
drive from South Bend to Ambler Ridge. “Look,” she says calmly. “I am married to Mitch, end of story. You’re going to have to accept it and find a way to be optimistic over the situation. Being mad won’t accomplish anything.”

“Maybe not, but it makes me feel better,” I mutter. I think I hear her teeth grinding from where I sit. I’m not usually this petulant, but it’s been a rotten two weeks, or at least it has been for me. I never saw this move coming.

“What will it take for you to put aside your castigating attitude?”

“Moving back home would help. I can’t believe two weeks into my senior year, you decide to uproot us to some podunk town in the middle of nowhere,” I say unhappily.

“We’ve been over this. Mitch didn’t want to move since Lydia has full custody of Riley. It made more sense for you and me to move instead so that he can still see his son. Besides, I like the idea of small town life.”

“And small it is,” I say under my breath. The town is quite spread out amongst the rural hills, and we’d driven through what’s supposed to pass as the downtown a short time ago. All the businesses and restaurants were located in about a three-block radius.

I squint out my window as we pass by a never-ending line of dense trees. “Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

“I’m sure. I’ve been taking note of the driveway numbers as we pass.”

I frown as we head further into the hills. By driveway numbers, she means a metal post with a number on it that is at the end of each narrow gravel road that we pass. They are few and far between, and after what seems like hours of peering out our windows for a specific number, we finally come across the one we’d been looking for. The long, winding driveway goes on forever, and I’m glad that I won’t have to help clear the snow from it this winter. Our little shovel would definitely not cut it out here.

When the house comes into focus, I draw in a deep breath and try to keep an open mind. Not that I’ll ever admit it, but my mom has a point. If I can’t accept this move, I am going to be extremely miserable.

The house is larger than I was expecting, and it’s two-stories with gray siding and white trim. The porch overlooking the front lawn is kind of cute, and I have to admit it gives the house a friendly, welcoming feel to it. I look around at the trees that surround the area, and I sigh inwardly. The house isn’t too bad; I just hate the location.

My attention shifts to the vehicles parked near the house. There’s a red truck, a black SUV, and a smaller, red car. The second I begin wondering who is all here, I see Mitch step down from the porch followed by another man.

My mom is already out of the truck and bounding towards Mitch as I warily climb out of the truck, closing the door quietly as I hesitate to follow. I’ve seen Mitch about a half-dozen times since my mom had married him, but I’m having a hard time warming up to him. I watch as my mom and Mitch embrace, sharing an affectionate kiss.

Feeling uncomfortable, I look away. It’s not like I would ever begrudge my mom happiness; I’m just having a hard time wrapping my mind around how it all came to be. My eyes collide with arrogant, brown ones that are gazing at me coolly with accusation. The guy that had come outside with Mitch is around my age, and I instantly assume he must be Riley. It’s becoming quickly apparent that we are not going to get along.

Mitch and my mom break apart, and Mitch walks over to me with a warm grin, though his eyes are a little hesitant as he stops before me. “Krista, I’m glad you’re here, now we can start getting to know one another. I know this all seems quite sudden, but we’ll take things slow,” he says lightly.

Honestly, Mitch doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy, and I take a moment to study him. His dark brown hair is a little longer than it had been when I’d last seen him, but it doesn’t take away from his good looks. There are crinkly laugh lines around his brown eyes, and those eyes have always been warm and kind when he’d come to visit us. I guess I can understand why my mom would take notice of a man like him. He’s tall, muscular, and handsome if you’re into guys that are hitting their forties. He also treats her well and seems to respect her, so I have to give him bonus points for that.

Mitch is waiting for me to say something, and I flounder for a reply, but nothing comes out of my mouth.

There’s a long, odd silence.

“Oh! You must be Riley.” My mom quickly steps forward to awkwardly hold out her hand to Mitch’s son. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Riley hesitates before reaching out to shake it. “You too,” he says politely.

“My, you
are
the spitting image of your father.” I watch my mom beam at Riley while he just stares down at her with unreadable eyes. “Oh, and this is my daughter, Krista. Krista, meet Riley.”

I give Riley a tight smile and do a quick little wave with my fingers. I’m not offering my new stepbrother my hand, he’d likely bite it off. His eyes narrow on me, and he returns my smile with a tense one of his own. I can tell that he’s anxious to be done with this awkwardness.

I think we all are.

My mom blurts, “Krista, we bought you a car!”

Her sudden outburst takes me by surprise. I’d been furious when we’d had no choice but to sell my car since my mom refused to allow me to drive here separately. She’d insisted that my car would break down, which I guess was a very real possibility since it was older than dirt, but I’d refused to admit she could be right. So we’d driven here with my mom’s car attached to the back of the truck. I think she thought that riding together would be a bonding experience after my cold attitude the past few weeks.

Mitch clears his throat. “Yours is the red Impala. It’s old, but it’ll get you around.”

I’m conscious of Riley smirking at me. “It was very thoughtful. Thank you.” I look at my mom and frown. “You never mentioned I was getting a car.”

She flushes. “It was a last minute decision.”

Now I know why she’d been in the motel bathroom, whispering into her phone late last night when she’d thought that I wouldn’t notice.

“So, let’s start unpacking,” Mitch announces. He walks over to the back of the truck and reaches for the handle, easily sliding the door all the way up. Then he climbs in and pulls out two boxes, offering one to Riley. “Why don’t you go show Krista her room,” he suggests.

“Yeah, no problem,” Riley says. He accepts the box and starts walking towards the house without glancing my way.

I quickly grab the second box that has my name written on it and hurry after him. When I step inside, I recall that the house is not only new to me and my mom, but to Mitch as well. Mitch moved out of his ex’s house—I guess she’s wealthy and comes from old money, or so my mom says. Judging by Riley’s expensive looking SUV, his mom has to be loaded. Anyway, Mitch was living in a rental house since the breakup until he and my mom could sit down and browse houses for sale on the internet.

I get a brief glimpse of silver appliances and dark wood cabinets as I pass through the kitchen and into a cream-colored living room with tan couches. Everything is pretty bare, but I know my mom will have it all redecorated by the end of the week.

A thud comes from up on the second floor, and I’m guessing the box Riley had been carrying had just been carelessly dropped to the floor. I hurry down a hallway and go up a set of stairs that creak under my feet. There’s a narrow hall, and the open doorway on the left is a bathroom, and when I peek into a vacant room down the hall, I find Riley standing there. Sure enough, my box is on the floor at his feet.

He looks at me with hostility-filled eyes. “You being by stepsister is just that, a title. Don’t expect anything from me.”

“I get it, and you know, I’m not happy with the situation, either.”

Riley gives me a look that tells me he could care less what I think as he walks out of the room, disappearing from sight.

“Lovely,” I say under my breath as my phone chimes in my back pocket, signaling an incoming text. Thankful for the distraction, I set down my box and pull my phone out, scanning the text. It’s from Sidney, one of my best friends.
Have you been chased through the woods yet by crazy cannibals carrying chainsaws?

Funny.

I quickly call her.

“Hey, bitch. You there yet?” Sidney greets.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“That bad?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” I scan the room, taking in the wood flooring and mint green walls. It looks like someone spit green mouthwash all over them. I walk over to the bed that’s already been made up, and I flop down onto my back. My old bed is long gone, just like my car. Though I have to admit, the Impala is a surprisingly welcome upgrade.

Sidney makes a sympathetic sound. “You poor thing. I bet it’s going to be slim pickings for guys there.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Sex? You bet. Hey, what’s that stepbrother of yours like?”

“He hates me already,” I say dryly. I squint. Is that a big spider in the corner of my ceiling? Dang. Being in the woods probably means bigger spiders than your average house spider. Lucky me.

“Is he hot?”

“Yeah, Riley’s hot,” I confess. “He’s got a good body, too.” If he wasn’t acting like such a dick, I’d find him somewhat attractive.

“Oooh, you don’t have to like each other to screw.”

“Never gonna happen,” I say firmly.

“C’mon, you and Shane broke up over six months ago. You can’t tell me you’re not horny. You’ve probably got cobwebs collecting down there at this point.”

I can’t help but snort. “I am horny, but not
that
horny.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Kris?”

“It’s perfectly fine, it just doesn’t take over when a cute guy is around. By the way, who’s in your pants this week?” I ask with interest.