The Entanglement Clause ✓

Chapter 2, part 3

While spending several days at a safe house watching Lifetime movies and eating take-out, Emmie's new identity was forged. New birth certificate, new social security number, new driver's license. Aimee became Emmie. Larson became Marsden. Chicago was traded for a small town off the coast of Oregon.

She was accompanied all the way from Chicago to Portland to Moon Beach by Sam Jordan, her US Marshal "handler," as she liked to think of him. Having a handler made her feel like she was a spy being assigned to her first mission instead of a criminal's girlfriend about to be exiled from everything and everyone she loved. Sam was pleasant and professional. He made small talk during their winding drive from PDX airport to the small coastal town she was about to inhabit. She would be safe with him, he interjected repeatedly between reminiscences of places they'd traveled and the tornado he'd recorded touching down in the countryside of Iowa where he'd grown up. She had nothing to fear while he was on her case, Sam had claimed. He'd been doing this a while and took his job seriously.

This was a comfort that didn't last. Soon, Sam was gone with nothing more than a promise of checking in with her soon and Emmie was left alone in a new apartment in a new town. A malaise had set in, a mixture of acceptance, remorse, and loneliness. She'd only dragged herself out the day before because she was low on the food she'd been given when she first arrived. That outing had led her to Iola's Eats. Meeting Trisha and getting a job there had been a step out of that malaise, but now she couldn't figure out if Ryker was one more step in the right direction or five steps backwards. What did he want from her? He must not have any trouble finding women to meet whatever needs he had.

Why should his needs matter so much, anyways? Emmie had her own. She needed peace, security, a sense of place. Home. And yes, fine, she needed sex as well. Or, she wanted it badly enough that it felt like a need. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe it was her loneliness, but anytime she let her imagination fly since meeting Ryker this morning, it dashed off right in the direction of a bed.

She might have accepted that she'd be building a life alone here in Moon Beach, but she couldn't quite convince herself that that life should be devoid of sex. If only she knew for sure that Ryker wasn't some lunatic stalker or that his money didn't really come from some organized crime syndicate he was involved in. She cringed at how paranoid the events with Ian had left her. Ryker was Trisha's brother so that counted for something. He couldn't be too bad, but still... Emmie wasn't going to just trust this guy and she certainly didn't want any sort of relationship with him.

Well, a sexual relationship, maybe. If he could keep his ego in check.

She was already to the edge of the park by the time she realized she'd completely lost her mind. No. No way would she give that infuriating man any more of her time. She could fantasize all she wanted, but it wouldn't be about him. Anyone but him.