It had been two days since Ramsay had seen Emmie. With her working with the Mapelss and him helping his father (now sober of three days) to collect every single Viper’s alibi for Saturday night, the contact between the two teenagers had faded a bit. Of course, they still texted every day and night, but both of them missed the fun conversations about stupid little things they used to have.
So, on Thursday, after faking some security footage of the Viper Nest by photoshopping a few men into the video, Ramsay decided to surprise the blonde. He knew Emmie didn’t have many cars to fix anymore, and would end the day at about 3 pm, and therefore, rode his motorcycle to the Mapels household about fifteen minutes before.
He parked on a sidewalk about a block away and smirking to himself, sent the girl a message.
Here.
The answer came a few minutes later: a bunch of question marks. Sending a winking emoji back to her, he knew she’d figure it out, simpl
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The following Saturday, with Emmie’s parents out of town for a conference, the girl was finally allowed to go to the drive-in—the first one this summer. Well, maybe ‘allowed’ wasn’t the best word choice for it, but she was able to go. Supposedly, she was going with Samuel in his truck, even though Emmie was sure her gay best friend would sneak off to have a secret date with whoever he had been running around with lately, and she would be able to slip into the oddly big projection booth Ramsay most likely would be at. And there was Emmie’s problem. She couldn’t tell her friend she would be having ‘a date’ with someone, and therefore, couldn’t dress like it. But for Ramsay, she also didn’t only want to pull on her skinny jeans and a sweater as usual. Biting her lip, the girl observed the outfit laid out in front of her on the bed; ripped jeans that her mom never let her wear, and a slim white sweater. Emmie carefully grabbed the light material, folding
Answer me as soon as possible, please! Ramsay sighed, dragging his hand over his face as he woke up the next morning on his couch. His phone had been blowing up with texts from Ani, Mateo, a few other Vipers he sometimes communicated with, and, of course, Emmie. Emmie, Emmie, Emmie. Damned be his father for interrupting them the night before. Damned be the Demons for showing up and existing. And damned be the police officers who had doubted him just eight hours ago when he had claimed he had nothing to do with Mapels’s death. The worst part about this was that he, Ani, and Mateo had all been at Emmie’s party that night. Which meant they were each other’s alibis, lying about being at Ramsay’s trailer and having a sleepover, while in reality, Ramsay had no idea where his friends had been while he spent his night with Emmie—something he could never confess to the police. A few other young Vipers hadn’t had an alibi at all, and when que
Emmie and Ramsay spent the whole next week by sneaking out at nights, hanging out every free moment, and making out.It wasn’t anything new to BT that Ramsay didn’t spend his nights at home, and when he did, he was a night hawk, constantly making fresh black coffee and reading (also writing, but that was something his father didn’t know about). Emmie’s parents, though, had no idea the girl could even get out of her room. She sneaked out of her window and down the ladder Ramsay had left there, not really regretting her choices, considering the fact that her parents were literally screaming their heads off every, single, night.On Friday, the Davises went away for another work conference, this time to New York City, meaning they would be out of town until Monday. For Emmie, that meant three whole days of peace and silence. And perhaps, a certain beanie-wearing boy.The first night the girl spent downstair
Ramsay woke up the next morning in the Davis house. It was warm, comfortable, and it smelled fucking good. Emmie wasn’t in his arms anymore and his legs were tangled in her sheets, but the pillow he had slept on had a scent to it. A girl’s scent. Emmie’s scent.It reminded him of strawberries and vanilla, but with his palette, it could’ve been cinnamon-scented, and he wouldn’t have known the difference.The boy buried his face into the pillow they had shared, closing his eyes again to relive their last night’s cuddles and conversations, until he noticed another smell in the air that he would recognize anywhere.Pancakes.Yawning, the boy grabbed his phone to quickly check if he had any new messages, only to see a few, one of them from Emmie. With a frown, he opened it and eyed the picture she had sent him. The photo was a meme about one of their favorite books, directed to a very targeted audi
Beast tapped his foot against the cold granite floor, inhaling the contents of his cigarette with a deep snarl on his face. His left hand that was rested on his knee was fisted, knuckles barely having any color to them as he anxiously anticipated the men’s arrival.The two trotted into the lounge with sneers on their faces just a couple of minutes later. Wordlessly, the tiny man stood, accepting the expensive phone one of them was holding out. Exchanging a few glances with his most loyal workers, he concentrated back on the screen.A yellow folder stood there with the name EMILIE DAVIS (JONES).Snorting at the name, he double-tapped on it, shocked by the number of pictures and Word documents it contained.An hour later, his lips were curled upward in an unkind way. Maybe this would get the younger Jones killed if he came alone. Because, after all, nobody would ever support his relationship with that girl.They had just hit a jackpot.#
At some point during the evening, Emmie’s arms had developed goosebumps, warming herself up by rubbing her hands over her shoulders, and Ramsay had given her the flannel that had been tied around his hips and helped her fold the sleeves up. But, of course, the kisses they had shared afterward had distracted her enough not to notice she had left with it as well. And the first person to see it was, obviously with Emmie’s luck, Alice Davis.When the blonde entered her house from the front door, too hazy from the taste of Ramsay’s lips to remember climbing up her ladder, she was faced with her mother standing there, arms crossed.The girl froze, eyeing the woman in front of her and gazing over to her father in the kitchen who didn’t look pleased either.“Young lady. Mind to tell us where you were at such late hours?” Alice asked, face and voice cold.“I was with Samuel,” she quickly lied, face neutral and
The next days that followed, Emmie mostly spent babysitting kids around town, which left Ramsay a lot of time with his friends, and alone. So there he was, sitting on his old shattered couch with a few takeout boxes around him, typing away on his laptop. His usual murder mysteries that had always included mostly only victims, police, different investigators, and murderers, of course, earned now a few new characters. Typically, in his books, the investigators or police officers would have a few affairs, with both men and women, and victims would have family and lovers they left behind, but in the new one he was currently writing, a perky blonde woman appeared in many scenes. Her eyes were green as emeralds, but hair cut short with seemingly a piece of sharp glass. She didn’t care for her looks or hygiene much but was one hell of an investigator. The young skinny woman had earned a lot of her characteristics from Emmie, but there was so much written in that did
“So, let me get this straight,” the seventeen-year-old boy said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You, Emmie Davis, are dating Ramsay Jones.” The couple shared a look after which the girl bit her lower lip, nodding slowly. Reggie shook his head a tad, watching the way his fingers were tapping against the counter. He didn’t know what to think of this, but also acknowledged that it wasn’t really his business. When he looked back at the two at the other side of the counter, he could see that Ramsay seemed calm and collected, not outing his emotions, while Emmie on the stool next to him was shuffling around every second, only calming down when Ramsay’s hand gently rubbed her back. They were both waiting for what he would say. “I mean…” Reggie started, and suddenly both of their eyes slotted toward him. “It’s not really my business, right?” “It isn’t,” Ramsay immediately said. “And neither is it anyone else’s, so we’d appreciate if you