Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(111)

Two cars pick us up at the train station and take us into New York City to our hotel. I booked a room for myself and several for my team at a very posh, high-end luxury hotel that caters to celebrities or anyone with a lot of money who wishes to not be disturbed during their stay.

“Other than Jared, Nathan and Maggie,” I begin. “No one else needs to know where I am, Taylor.”

“Yes, Emma,” Taylor replies.

My bodyguards, Sadie and I arrive at our hotel in the early afternoon. The valet assists with our bags and escorts us inside to the desk.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” the male receptionist greets.

“Hello,” I return.

“How may I assist you today?”

“I’d like to check in, please.”

“Ah, yes, Ms. Peterson.” He hands me back my identification and credit card. “Your rooms are ready and Byron here,” he says, gesturing for a man to come over. “Will see you and your bags to your room.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Is there anything specific or special you require from us for yourself, or any of your traveling companions?”

“Sadie will be with me the majority of the time, but I will let you know. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Peterson. Enjoy your stay.”

With a smile, I return, “Thank you.”

Taylor and Caesar follow Byron, Sadie and me up to my room for inspection prior to getting settled into their own rooms. At least one of their rooms is on the same floor as mine. Sadie gets comfortable on the bed as I start to unpack my things. Right as I finish hanging up my clothes, I hear a knock at the door.

Without thinking, I open it, not checking to see who it is. I’m expecting it to be either one of my guards or a staff member checking in on me. As I open the door, my eyes widen and my voice catches in my throat, unable to utter a word.

“Hey, beautiful,” Joe says with a smile.

“H . . . hi,” my mouth mutters.

“I knew you’d miss me, but I didn’t think you’d come all this way just to surprise me,” he comments, stepping into the room. Joe’s lip fall to mine despite the shock that has consumed my entire body.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I blurt.


Joe lets go of me and greets Sadie. “I could say the same to you.”

“Taylor is fired,” I announce, reaching for my phone.

“Why?”

“I told him not to tell anyone I was here,” I rant.

“Taylor didn’t tell me you where here,” Joe explains, a little shocked at my response.

“So, he told Hunter and Hunter told you,” I speculate.

“No,” Joe corrects. “I was leaving a meeting here in the hotel and saw you and Sadie.”

“What?” I gasp in surprise. “Why would you have a meeting here . . . in this hotel?”

“My family owns it,” Joe answers.

“Shit,” I reply. “Of course you do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to New York? You don’t need a hotel room. You could have stayed with Jimmy, Allen and me,” Joe says, clearly perplexed by the situation.

“No one was supposed to know I was here,” I inform. “Only Maggie, Jared and Nathan.”

“Why? What’s going on?” he searches with concern in his eyes.

I look away.

“Emma?”

Wrapping my arms around my torso, I keep my gaze to the floor as I answer him. “I came . . . to . . . .” My body trembles with the thought, now confident that this was a mistake. “This was a mistake. I need to go.”

“Hey.” Joe catches me by the arm. “You’re worrying me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

My head shakes, not wanting to confess.

“Please, beautiful,” he coaxes sweetly. “Tell me.”

“I came to visit,” I reply on the verge of tears. My gaze jumps to Joe’s face, immediately looking away when I see the distress in his eyes. “Tomorrow . . . it’ll be nine years . . . since the accident.”

Joe surrounds me with his arms, kissing me on my temple several times.

“I didn’t want you to know,” I begin, fighting back tears. “With tomorrow being your birthday and all. I . . . .”

“I’m glad I know,” Joe states, looking deep into my eyes.

Joe doesn’t let go of me for a long while. At some point, he guides me over to the bed and surrounds me with his body. When my tears subside, he lets go of me for a brief second. He takes his phone out and calls someone, informing them that all plans for tomorrow need to be cancelled. I can tell the person on the other end of the phone asks why by the way Joe answers, refusing to share the real reason.

“What are you doing?” I question the second he hangs up. “Why are you canceling your birthday plans?”

“You’re more important,” he answers kindly. There isn’t a single hint of pity in his tone.

“No,” I object. “You need to be with your family and I need to do this alone.”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone,” Joe states. “You need me.”

“I’ve done it before by myself,” I snap.