Runaway Bride’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #1)

33. Emmett

33

emmett

“Emmett, sit down.”

I shoot a death glare to Simon. “I won’t sit until I know what the fuck is going on.”

It’s been eight hours since the police and the federal government showed up to take Stella in for questioning. Insider trading? I love the woman, and she’s good for many things, but being savvy enough to buy and sell stocks after illegally obtaining information about what to do with said stocks? I don’t think that’s in her wheelhouse.

“Well you’re making me dizzy, so sit the hell down.”

I stop, send him one more menacing look, then reluctantly take a seat next to him. It’s the only seat available, and that’s because Charlie is upstairs putting Lainey to bed. No one left Mr. and Mrs. Banks’ house today after Stella was taken away. Hell, even Maddie refused to leave. Mrs. Banks set the kids up in different rooms upstairs since it’s now well past their bedtimes. Even Quinn is taking a redeye from Arizona.

It’s good having everyone here, ready to act when the order comes. The only problem is, besides the charge that Stella’s being questioned about, that’s all we know.

And it’s slowly killing me .

“Hey, she’s going to be okay.” Simon pats my leg as I lean forward, rubbing my temples from the headache I’ve had since Stella was driven away. “My dad isn’t going to let anything happen to her.”

“I know,” I admit. “I just…I hate that I’m not there with her. I want to fix this for her. Fight it. Whatever it is. I just…I feel so useless.”

“We all do,” he says. “But I get it. You love her. That’s what we do for the women we love.”

On cue, Charlie comes back downstairs and I offer her seat back, but instead she sits on Simon’s lap. He wraps his arms around her, holding on to her for comfort. It’s what they do. They’re a team in every way, feeding off each other when the other needs them.

That’s what I want to be for Stella. And it fucking killed me that I couldn’t go with her. Well, I could’ve, but William told me to stay. I wasn’t allowed in the interrogation room, and who knows how long it was going to last. It was better for me to stay here with the rest of the family and wait.

And wait. And wait some more. No one is speaking or talking, and the silence is eerie. I’m guessing quiet isn’t something that happens often in this house. It’s so quiet that we all jump when we hear the sound of a door opening and Stella, along with William, walking into the living room.

“Tiger.” Her name is a relieved breath on my tongue as I take four huge steps and scoop her into my arms. Her arms are a vise around my neck, and I squeeze her back just as hard. “Are you okay?”

I feel her nodding into my shoulder as she squeezes me even tighter, but she doesn’t say a word. I just hold her until she starts to let go, and even then I refuse to take a hand off her.

“Stella, what can we get you?” her mom asks.

“I know I should drink water and it’s late, but if you have a Diet Dr Pepper, that would be really great right now.”

Demetria smiles and nods. “Of course, sweetheart. ”

I take a step back as everyone comes in to hug her. Questions are starting to fly, and I see Simon and William whispering something in the corner, so I step away to listen in.

“How bad is it?” Simon asks.

“It’s not good,” William says.

Before he can elaborate, everyone starts having a seat around the living room. I take Stella’s hand, clasping it with both of mine, as I see her gear up to recap the events of the night.

“I know that if anyone was going to be a criminal mastermind in the family, it was probably going to be Simon. But joke’s on everyone, it’s me!”

“Not funny,” Simon says harshly at Stella’s attempt to lighten the mood. “That was all Ainsley.”

“Hey!” she exclaims.

“Enough,” William says, clearly not a fan of his children’s jokes. “The charges are serious. According to the SEC and the AG, Stella bought and sold ten million dollars’ worth of stocks based on the knowledge of clients at the law firm. They have years of evidence.”

“Years?” Maeve repeats. “Stella, and no offense, do you even know what insider trading is?”

“Only what I know from the dumb training videos we have to watch every year,” she says. “And even then I’m confused. Stocks? Not my thing. I have to use a tip calculator on my cell phone. You think I understand stocks?”

“That’s what I thought,” Maeve continues. “So how does the federal government think that you, a woman who would only buy stock in Steve Madden, would be doing millions of dollars of insider trading?”

“And that’s exactly what the attorney general wanted to know,” William says. “Apparently stocks involving companies that the firm represents have been on the radar for a while. Fishy buying and selling activity, but nothing that popped out. That was until the last year, when heavy buys and sells were happening and the only common denominator was that our law firm represented all of them. Investigators started digging, and when they looked inside, every one of the companies had meetings with us that would’ve detailed pertinent information about their finances. And that after all of those meetings happened, the files were accessed by Stella.”

Audible gasps fill the room.

“We have individual logins for everything at the firm,” Stella said. “It’s supposed to help with security and tracing things back to people when shit hits the fan.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Ainsley says. “I mean…you didn’t, right?”

“Of course not. And that’s what I told the investigators,” Stella says. “The only problem with that is they don’t believe me, since money that was used to buy and sell these stocks has been moving through a bank account with my name on it.”

“What?” I wasn’t ready for that bombshell. “You had a bank account, and you didn’t notice money moving in and out?”

She shakes her head. “No. And that’s because I thought that bank account was closed.”

“I’m confused,” Maeve says. “How do you not know about a bank account?”

“Because I thought my former fiancé closed it.”

Fucking Duncan. Of course this has to do with him.

“I’m going to kill him,” I growl as I start to stand up. Stella’s hand on my thigh quickly stops me.

“Not yet. Because we can’t tie it to him if he’s dead. Then I go to jail, and I’m sorry, but orange is not in my color wheel.”

She’s right. I can’t kill him.

Yet.

“When the investigators asked me about the checking account I had, I told them about my personal ones and the one that Duncan and I had for the wedding,” Stella says. “We did talk a little about the money he took before the wedding, and how he changed my password and alert settings. Then they asked me about a second joint account with Duncan and honestly, I had to think back because I completely forgot about it. We opened it right when we got engaged, but it was hacked within the first week. I told him to close it immediately since it was at his bank. He was hesitant, but eventually agreed. Or so I thought. I signed a paper and everything granting permission to close it.”

I watch as Stella’s shoulders slump and she hangs her head.

“Hey,” I bring her hand up to my lips to give them a reassuring kiss. “You asked the man you were going to marry to do something, and you trusted him to do it. This is not your fault.”

“And that’s what we told the investigators,” William says. “Apparently, the account not only stayed open, but Duncan changed it to Stella as the main, and only, person on the account. That’s the document she signed. And with that, he laundered millions through it.”

“And let me guess,” Simon interjects. “He was using Stella’s log-in at the firm to access every client’s file because, as the office administrator, she has access to everyone’s files, which he wouldn’t since he’s a lower-level associate.”

“That’s our theory,” William says.

“Oh, Stella,” Maeve says. “He knew your passwords?”

Stella shakes her head. “I didn’t think he did. But then again, I use the same three passwords. And before you say anything, no, I don’t use the strong password suggestion because it’s never remembered. And I didn’t mean for Duncan to know the password. He figured it out, I guess.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” I say, defending Stella. “We’re here now. Does her being with us mean they are dropping the charges and going after Duncan?”

Stella sinks into my embrace as William shakes his head. “They let Stella go because they are still deciding the charges, and she’s not under criminal arrest. Yet. They agreed to look into Duncan, but he did a pretty good job on the surface of staying clean on this and pinning it all on Stella. ”

“Is there more evidence?” Maeve asks. “Like, is there anything that can be dug up that would put a nail in his coffin?”

“Nothing short of a confession from him would be enough,” William says. “And I doubt that smug bastard is going to do that.”

Stella and I didn’t get back home until after three in the morning. I don’t think we said a word on the drive from Rolling Hills to Nashville. Or before she fell asleep in my arms, completely exhausted from the day.

I don’t remember the last time I slept in past nine, but after yesterday’s events, it makes sense. I probably could’ve slept longer if Winnie hadn’t started pawing at me to take her outside. Stella barely moved when I rolled out of bed and is still sleeping.

I want to kill Duncan. Murder him with my bare hands. Then I want to bring him back to life so I can do it again.

It was one thing when I knew he was just a shitty human. I’ve met many men who were and many men will continue to be. But to set her up so she’ll go to jail? To blame massive federal crime on her? Anything less than me sending him to an early grave isn’t punishment enough.

“Hey,” Stella says, her voice still sleepy as she walks into the kitchen. “Please tell me there’s coffee?”

I reach into the refrigerator and grab the iced latte I had delivered about an hour ago. “I kept it cold for you until you woke up.”

Her smile is small as I lean down and kiss her forehead. When I step back, I can’t help but notice how defeated she looks.

“What can I do?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to take this pain away. Or to help get this investigation over. “Please, there has to be something, because I’m dying over here.”

She shakes her head and Winnie sits at her feet, sensing her sadness. “I wish there was. Believe me, this isn’t like the time I was moving out of his house and thought I could do it all myself. I genuinely don’t know what anyone can do.”

We walk into the living and sit on the couch, Stella all but on my lap as I hold onto her like the feds are going to storm in right now and take her away.

“I hoped yesterday was a bad dream,” she says as I stroke her hair. “It feels like a nightmare.”

“I know,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “It’s going to be a distant nightmare soon. I promise.”

“How?” she asks as she sits up to look at me. “You didn’t see all the evidence they had against me, Emmett. Thick folders. Like thick with four Cs. If someone on social media made a true crime documentary on me, it would take eight parts just to get through the things I allegedly did.”

“I know it doesn’t look good. But we’ll think of something. We have to. There’s no other option.”

If either of us know that option, we don’t voice it. In fact, we sit in silence for I don’t know how long. That’s until a few minutes later when the front door is thrown open and a woman I’ve only ever seen in pictures walks through.

“I’ve got an idea!”

We’re startled as Quinn comes barreling through the front door, Maeve and Ainsley on her heels.

How do they know where I live?

“I’m sorry about her,” Maeve says. “The child locks didn’t keep her inside the car. Oh, and Simon is on his way. That’s how we got the address if you were wondering.”

Well, that clears one thing up.

“Fuck your child locks. This can’t wait.”

I know Quinn has always been described as the blunt one of the Banks family. And she might be. But right now, she’s Simon in the female form.

“I had a very long flight with a ton of turbulence and a snorer behind me, so I had plenty of time to think,” she says. “And I think I know how we’re going to take Duncan down. ”

Now that gets my attention.

“Wait!” That comes from Simon, who is all but running into my house. “Did you start yet?”

“Nope,” Quinn says. “You’re right on time.”

Stella sits up and looks around with the same confused look that’s on my face. “Can someone please tell me what’s happening right now?”

Everyone gets settled, but Quinn and Simon look like they’re about to bust with excitement.

“Do you know what she’s about to say?” I ask Simon.

“Nope. But if I know my sister, who to this day still lives in Rolling Hills High School history for a prank involving a foreign exchange student that never went to the school, it’s about to be good.”

All eyes are on Quinn as we wait anxiously to hear her thoughts.

“We need Duncan to confess.”

“That’s what Dad said,” Stella says as we all nod in agreement. “The problem is, he’ll never just come out and say it. If I confront him, it will be another one of his lies. I don’t know how to get him to talk.”

“What if we had some outside help?”

We look at each other, not knowing what, or whom, she’s talking about.

“Just say the rest, Quinn,” Maeve says. “Clearly we’re not following.”

“And the evil smile on your face is giving villain vibes,” Ainsley says.

“Not villain. Let’s call me a vigilante,” Quinn says. “Because, somewhere over Oklahoma, it came to me. Men say stupid shit. Present company excluded.”

“Nope, I do,” Simon says. “But carry on because you’re not wrong.”

“Thank you. Men will say a lot of things during sex. Or to get laid. Or, in the case of one Pencil Dick Duncan Hughes, when he’s getting whipped.”

I think we all stop breathing.

Quinn is a fucking genius.

“I’m just saying,” Quinn continues. “If I liked being spanked and called a good boy, there would be a lot of things I’d confess to my dominatrix.”