His face has gone from rage to shock to horror.
“If you want to shoot Leo,” I say, and my voice doesn’t shake at all even though I am scared shitless, “you have to get through me first.”
“Emma,” my father pleads with me, the gun loose in his hand. “Emma, move out of the way. Please. I don’t want to hurt you, baby, I would never—just move and let me?—”
“No.”
Dad’s face twists in anguish. “Baby,please.”
“I said no!” I shout. “I’m not moving! If you want to kill him, you’re going to have to kill me too!”
“You don’t mean that,” my father gasps, his face so, so pale, but his gun is wavering now, lowering slightly. “You’re just scared. You’re not thinking clearly. If you just?—”
“I’ve never thought more clearly in my life,” I interrupt, and I take a step forward toward him and his gun. “I love him, Dad. I love Leo Santoro and I’m staying with him and if you can’t accept that—if you’re so determined to kill him that you’d shoot through me to do it”—I pause, my throat constricting—“then go ahead.”
I spread my arms out again, making it impossible for him to hit Leo without hitting me first.
Behind me, Leo makes that strangled sound again. “Emma, for the love of god?—”
“Shut up, Leo,” I retort, not taking my eyes off my father. “I’m handling this.”
My father is staring at me like he’s never seen me before. It’s like I’m a stranger. His gun is still raised but it’s shaking now, his hand trembling.
“You’re willing to die for him?” he asks so quietly I almost don’t hear it. “You’re willing to let me kill you rather than leave him?”
“I’m willing to stand between you and the man I love,” I correct, my heart beating so fast I’m surprised it’s not pulsating out of my chest. “You taught me to stand up for what I believe in and to protect the people I care about. You told me to never back down when something matters.”
“I didn’t teach you to be stupid,” he snaps.
“No,” I agree, dipping my head briefly. “You taught me to be strong. And that’s what I’m doing.”
We stare at each other across the destroyed hall. Father and daughter. Two people who love each other and are about to destroy each other anyway.
Leo is still behind me, holding my shoulders. I can practicallyfeelthe waves of fury and fear rolling off him.
But I don’t move.
“Emma, please,” my father whispers, his eyes glassy. “Please don’t make me choose between you and?—”
“You don’t have to choose,” I say gently, wondering if I’ve finally gotten through to my father. “You just have to accept my choice. Accept that I’m staying with Leo. That I’m happy here. But even if you don’t believe me, there’s something else.”
I take a breath. This is it. The final card. The one thing that might make him understand. Might make him stop. Or it might make everything so much worse.
But I have to try. I have to give him a reason—anyreason—to put down the gun and walk away.
“If you shoot Leo—if you kill him—you’re not just taking away the man I love. You’re taking away my child’s father.”
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat before I can continue.
“And if you shoot through me to get to him then you’ll be killing your grandchild.”
22
EMMA
The world stops.
It actually stops. Like someone hit pause on reality and we’re all frozen in this moment where I just told my father I’m pregnant with Leo Santoro’s baby.