Chapter 178

#Chapter 178 – Jailbreak Emma looks at Delia nervously as they pull up to the road block near her father’s house.

“Something’s going on,” she murmurs as a Beta raises his hand, requiring her to stop the car.

“Um,” Delia says, biting her lip and considering. “Is there any reason that they should like…suspect us?

That we should turn around now?”

Emma shakes her head slowly. “I mean…unless Joyce told someone he was meeting you? But he’s always so discreet with his affairs.”

She should know. In their six years of marriage, Joyce had had nearly forty affairs with women, all of which Emma knew about due to the same private investigator who had found Evelyn. She kept the evidence for a rainy day, packed into a storage unit across town. Every month, if the investigator had more information for her, she added it to the binder.

They were casual affairs mostly, none of them deeply emotional – girlfriends who lasted a few weeks and months. His relationships with s*x workers lasted longer, likely because he could control them with money. Emma had never been particularly bothered or surprised by these assignations, considering that their own relationship started by him cheating with her on her sister.

Emma rolls down her window as the Beta approached. “Hello,” she says smiling pleasantly. “I’m just coming back from my vacation – is…” she looks around the barrier, worried, “is everything okay? With my family?”

The Beta nods to her, expressionless, and then walks away a few steps to speak into the radio attached to his shoulder. When he receives a reply, he nods and returns to the car.

“All is well, ma’am. Your family is looking forward to seeing you.”

With that, he waves her though.

“Well,” Delia says, taking a deep breath. “We’re in for it now. Are you sure we shouldn’t have like…tried to sneak in? Not gone through the front door?”

“No,” Emma says quietly, winding down the road towards the house. “They don’t have any reason to suspect us yet – we’re just a few days late from vacation. If they catch us sneaking in the back, it will be worse.”

Delia nods, on board with the plan, but still anxious.

When they pull up to the house and park in the set of garages around the side, Emma knows that it’s just a little too quiet.

The house is the same, like a ghost town. Emma swallows thickly, looking around. It’s not a busy house at any times – far too much unhappiness, here, for any joy and laughter – but this?

“Geeze,” murmurs Delia, running a hand through her hair. “Where is everyone?”

They both hear it at the same time – the sound of laughter coming from the back garden. Instinctually, they both head that way.

At the back door, Emma and Delia are greeted with a happy sight. Mrs. Walsh, laying on a patio chair out in the late afternoon sunshine, sipping a glass of iced tea and shouting suggestions to Ian, who is playing croquet on his own.

“Through the wicket, Ian!” she says, laughing. “Not over it!”

Emma can’t help laughing with her. It’s been far too long since they’ve had children in this house.

Ian hears her laugh and turns to her, his face breaking into a smile instantly. “Aunt Emma!” he shouts, running over to her and wrapping his arms around her. Mrs. Walsh turns, surprised to hear her daughter’s name.

Ian releases Emma and turns to Delia, equally excited, but Delia cuts him off first.

“Hi!” She says, putting out a hand and giving him a subtle wink. “I’m Delia, your aunt’s friend!” She forces a smile onto her face, hoping that he catches on – Mrs. Walsh doesn’t know that she has known Ian since he was a child.

Ian, thank god, plays along. “Hi, I’m Ian!” he says simply, shaking her hand and then running back to his grandmother.

“Emma, welcome home!” her mother calls. “We were worried for you!” Mrs. Walsh waves hello to Delia as well, gesturing to the chairs as an invitation to take a seat.

“Hi, mom,” Emma say, coming to sit down.

“Where were you?” Mrs. Walsh asks, leaning forward, clearly genuinely pleased to see her daughter home safe and sound. “We haven’t heard from you – and with Joyce disappeared, and all of that money gone?”

Emma frowns, saying “what?” just as Delia exclaims “Joyce!? Disappeared??”

Emma shoots Delia a little look, trying to communicate that she needs to tone it down. Delia either doesn’t see or ignores her.

“You don’t know?” Mrs. Walsh says, confused. Emma shakes her head.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen Joyce in awhile,” Ian says, climbing up into his aunt’s lap. “Not that I liked him anyway.”

“And what are you doing here, little one,” Emma says, smiling at him, pleased that her nephew is such a talented little actor, playing along with their ruse so easily. “Not that I’m not glad to see you.”

“I came with mommy,” he says, smiling up at her. Then, he frowns. “Though grandpapa locked her up in the basement.”

Emma forces herself to pretend this is new news, opening her eyes wide as she stares at her mother.

“What?”

Mrs. Walsh bites her lip – a trait inherited by her two daughters when they, too, are feeling unsettled.

“It’s been complicated, here, Emma,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Honestly, darling, you’ve missed a lot – it wasn’t really a good time to go on vacation –“

“Mom,” Emma says, pretending a fresh horror. “You can’t just lock Evelyn in the basement. She’s your daughter.”

“Well, I didn’t lock her there,” Mrs. Walsh says quietly, fiddling with the straw in her drink. “Your father did that, obviously.”

The three women are quiet for a moment, Mrs. Walsh looking down at her drink, Emma and Delia looking at each other.

“And you’re….okay with that? Mom?” Emma asks, quietly. Carefully.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Walsh says, giving her a bit of an angry look. “But what can I do? He is our Alpha.”

“And you’re the Luna of this pack, mom,” Emma says softly, taking her hand. “Come on, it’s time you asserted your authority as well.” She nudges Ian off her lap and stands, pulling her mom up with her.

“What?” Mrs. Walsh asks, confused, as her daughter leads her towards the house. “Where are we going?”

“To get Evelyn out!” Emma says, determined. Ian and Delia trail behind.

The group enters the house, heading for the basement. As they arrive at the doors, guarded by two Betas, Emma forces Mrs. Walsh to the head of the group. As the Luna, the Betas should follow her orders as if she is the Alpha herself.

Mrs. Walsh hesitates, looking at Emma, and then nods to the guards. “Please let us through,” she says.

They step aside, letting them pass.

The group continues down into the basement, which is largely a room used for storage. At the back, though, is a heavy metal door with two more Betas guarding it. When Mrs. Walsh asks for passage, they step aside.

Through the door is a series of cells, not uncommon in these old pack houses, built generations ago when the pack Alpha was not only the leader, but the judge, jury, and executioner. John Walsh kept the cells maintained, just barely, but hardly used them.

The group passes the first two cells, which are empty, and then peer into the cell on the far left.

“Hey mama!” Ian says, pressing his face between the bars on the door.

Evelyn’s face snaps up from where she’s sitting on a small wooden bench, surprise written all over it.

She gasps, looking over the group of them. “Oh my god, Emma! Delia!” she says. “What are you doing here?!”

Emma’s face falls in surprise. She had expected a warmer welcome. “Um?” she says. “Did you…not want to see us?” Her eyes dart to her mother, who frowns, likewise confused about Evelyn’s reaction.

“Oh nooooo,” Evelyn moans, putting her head in her hands. “This is the opposite of what I wanted. And it was all going according to plan!”

Just as Emma opens her mouth to speak, an alarm stares to blare throughout the house. Everyone in the room jumps and then freezes, looking around at each other.

A worried Beta sticks his head into the room. “Mrs. Walsh? Apologies, ma’am,” he says, “but we’re going to have to ask you to leave. The Walsh pack is under attack.”