"So, has your anger subsided? Are you sleeping better these days? Do you feel like you're moving past the depression caused by your cousin's murder?"

A groan is stifled as the psychiatrist bombards with tedious questions. The parents are paying a fortune for what seems like a waste of time. The help offered is minimal, but then again, Emily didn't need it.

"Yes, Miss Banks, I'm sure I've improved a lot. Thank you." A sweet smile is offered, watching her blush at the compliment. Good acting. A mental pat on the back is warranted.

"It's not just me; the medication is working too. I'm really pleased with your progress, Emily. You're such a nice girl."

A wave is given, feigning humility. A goodbye is bid, and the door is exited. Nice doesn't get you far, Miss Banks.

Stepping out of the building, a collision with a solid chest occurs. Strong arms catch before she can fall. Dazed, she looks up to see Jack staring down with surprise and concern.

"You're undergoing therapy," he states, not as a question but with a hint of betrayal. Her heart sinks. This is not good.

His arms are pushed away with a glare. "Just because we talk sometimes doesn't mean we're friends. You don't need to know everything about me."

"The hell I don't," he mutters, though it's clearly heard.

"Emily, just tell me why you're going for therapy. I want to help," he insists.

A sigh escapes, realizing he's not going to drop it. A partial truth is given. "Family issues. I've told you before. It's silly, but it's really affecting me."

He nods, though the expression suggests he's not fully convinced. He closes the distance, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. It's been a while since anyone made her feel this... secure. Nervousness bubbles up.

"I... I need to go," she stammers, trying to pull away. His grip tightens, and he smirks.

"Sure," he says, but his hold doesn't loosen.

A frustrated growl escapes as she's about to kick him. His hand suddenly gropes her backside, halting her movement. A gasp escapes as her leg falls back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, princess," he whispers in her ear. A shiver runs through her, a mix of fear and strange pleasure. His kisses trail along her cheek and down her jawline. A vigorous shake of the head follows.

"What... what was that?" The demand is trembling, more at her reaction than his actions.

"You loved it, kitten. Stop pretending otherwise." They stand there, locked in a strange standoff on the sidewalk. One filled with hatred, the other with curiosity.

A ringtone interrupts. The call is answered distractedly, eyes still glaring at Jack.

"Oh, hello Officer Max." She's about to continue but abruptly cuts the call, realizing her current situation.

"Officer Max?" His tone darkens. Panic surges. How could she have been so careless? Palms sweat. He knows. He's going to kill her. Even in public, fear is overwhelming.

Jack's grip tightens painfully. A shiver of fear replaces the earlier pleasure.

"It was just about something," she stammers, mentally cursing her idiocy.

"Oh really, Emily? I would've never guessed," he replies, dripping with sarcasm.

A deep breath is taken, and honesty is decided upon. "You might know a girl named Rose. She used to go to your school—well, our school now. She was my cousin. She was murdered recently, and the police keep calling to interrogate me."

Jack doesn't respond immediately. The chance is taken to ask, "Did you know Rose?"

He blinks, expression unreadable. "Yes, vaguely."

A flicker of relief is felt but warmth is missed. Vaguely, her ass. A silent scoff follows.

"She was a pain in the ass anyway. Always so irritating and goody-two-shoes. Honestly, I'm glad someone finally did away with her."

Shock is evident, then his eyes narrow. "Well, aren't you heartless."

A cruel chuckle is forced. "Tell me about it." A taxi is called, and as she gets in, a glance back shows him looking conflicted, his gaze torn. The taxi speeds away, and gratitude follows that he can't see the tears streaming down her face.

I miss you, Rose.