by Hart, Rebel
“But that’s just the thing,” he rasps. “I can’t. I knew this whole thing was fucked from the moment I first saw you. I knew I’d never be able to do the things I was expected to do. I feel too much for you.”
“It sure didn’t stop you in the beginning,” I sneer.
“Come on…you know you want this just as bad as I do,” he pushes toward me again, his touch begging me to melt into him. “Give me a chance to make all of that up to you. We’re both fucked up. But…maybe we can find some way to make each other better. Look, Ophelia, I’m sorry. Just please try to understand – I’m not perfect. Neither are you, okay? I’m not going to stand here and lie…”
“For once.” I cut him off. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Emmett. That’s the difference,” I growl, resenting that he could even begin to suggest I am as fucked up as he is.
“I’m not going to stand here and pretend like I have all my shit figured out or that I knew what I was doing this whole time,” he carries on, rain dripping down his face. “I just…I just didn’t think and got in over my head and…and I really didn’t mean to ever hurt you. I was selfish, I know that. I did it all wrong. But I’m lost too, okay? That’s why you and I get along…because we’re both just lost and fucked up and trying to figure it out.”
“I wasn’t fucked up until I met you,” I hiss, making him recoil finally. He looks genuinely sorry. I want more than anything to tell him it’s all okay and we could keep trying to figure it all out together. But then my father resurfaces in my mind, and I just know this can never work.
“So…what now?” He looks at me eagerly.
“It just…it has to be over now. That’s it. It’s ruined. I can barely look at you now, knowing what you were doing this whole time…working with my father behind my back,” my words trail off into the sounds of the rain, my head shaking in exasperation.
He hangs his head and I think I see a tear streaming down his cheek, surprising me. But the downpour makes it too hard to tell. “I’d take it all back if I could.” His voice is cracking.
But knowing so many lies have been told by this point, I don’t know whether to believe his tears or not. It is still so hard to walk away. Half of me wants to run away and never look back. The other half of me would let him take me again right here, right now.
“Emmett…” I walk over to him and touch his cheek, as we both sob uncontrollably. This is the only time in my life I have ever cried so openly with another person. “I wish you didn’t do all of those terrible things, but…maybe this just wasn’t meant to be.”
He leans his forehead against mine and we’re both paralyzed in the pain for a moment. I realize if I don’t leave now, I might lose the strength. I pull away and start walking down the sidewalk.
“Ophelia…” I stop and face him, afraid of what he’s about to say. Afraid I won’t stick to my resolve. “Do you think…maybe after some time has gone by…maybe you could give me another chance?”
“I think it’s better if we just let it go. Just let me go,” I turn to run away before he can say anything else. Before I can change my mind.
I run through the dark streets, my wet cheeks freezing in the wet wind. I don’t stop until I’m home. The heat in the house burns my face when I walk in, and I find mom sitting at the kitchen table leaned over with her head in her hands.
“Mom?”
She jerks up, her eyes bloodshot. “Ophelia, sweetie…hey. I’m glad you’re finally home.” She notices my face and looks concerned. “Are you okay? You’re soaking wet!”
“No, not really. Are you okay?” I respond breathlessly, still confused as to how she is so calm about how long I’ve been missing. I join her at the table. “We have to talk, Mom.”
“I know we do,” she nods, wringing a tissue in her hands. And yet, we sit in silence for what feels like forever.
“I’ll start.” She says with a heavy sigh, “Ophelia, there are some things I need to tell you about your father.”
I blink, my eyes wide and blank. Out of all the times for her to bring this up…
I have no idea what lies the Elites have fed to her or how. “Wait, Mom…” I stop her. “Before you start talking about him…about me being gone…”
“Oh sweetie, don’t worry about that,” she waves her hand with a sniffle. “The principal called and told me Coach Granger had been keeping you late for practice and that he saw you leaving every day with that Emmett boy. I tried to call and tell you to come home, but your phone was dead. Then the police called and told me what happened at Emmett’s house. Are you alright, honey? That’s a terrible thing to go through. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
A sarcastic grin eases across my face, out of my control, and I look down to my hands, shaking my head. I don’t know if I’m more surprised that they went to such lengths to keep her from interfering or that she actually bought all of that so easily.
“You weren’t mad?” I gaff, peering into her. “You didn’t try to come find me?”
“I wanted to, but Brendan said we should give you some space,” she explains. “You’ve always been so responsible and well behaved. You were bound to get a wild streak at some point. When the police called…I felt terrible for not coming to find you. Maybe if I had…”
If she had. Suddenly I’m relieved she didn’t try to find me. If she had tried to, the Elites may have taken care of her just to get her out of the way.
“That wasn’t your fault, Mom,” I clasp my hand to hers, unsure of what else to say.
“When the police said Thomas Jameson was dead, I…well…this will sound terrible, but I thought your father had done it,” she confesses through sobs. “But then they said it was a suicide, and I just felt so guilty. I felt bad for not telling you more about your dad in case he ever did try to come back into our lives. For not protecting you from the possibility of something like that.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming out that she’s right. My father did kill Thomas Jameson, and if she had warned me about what kind of person my father was…it might not have done any good or changed anything. But maybe I would have made different decisions along the way. I could have had somewhat of an upper hand.
“Mom, I know all about my real dad,” I blurt out finally, searching her face to see how she’ll respond. She looks completely shocked, her bottom lip trembling. “The kids around here…they know the story of his family and everything that he did. They told me.”
“You should have come to talk to me!” she shrieks. “Ophelia, you never should have had to learn about all of that on your own!”
“I guess that’s why I was gone for a bit,” I murmur, knowing she’d never understand what that really means.
“I understand,” she nods, blotting the tears from her eyes, squeezing my hand tight. “So then you know he had it out for the Jamesons. That’s why when I heard about Thomas…I just jumped to conclusions.”
I look at the regret and sadness in my mom and wish I could take it all away for her. She deserved better than my father, and so did I. The thought stings as I think back to what Emmett said earlier. Even he admits I deserve better. Part of me wants to see if he can be better for me, but I’m not going to let myself go there.
If I meant what I said about wanting him to let me go, I needed to do the same and let him go. I’m eager to find my way back to the person I was before I ever met him. Before enduring all the torture of the Elites. But I don’t know if I will ever shake this feeling of unsteady ground beneath my feet. Now that I’ve seen firsthand just how wrong it can go and how fast, I will always be worried that around any corner…everything could go to shit again.
I’m quiet, afraid if I say too much else everything will spew out of me. “Mom, should we be afraid?” I ask timidly. “Of Dad I mean. In case he ever came back around. I…I heard he had hurt you once. When the Elites framed you for that affair. Do you think he’d ever do anything like that again?”
“No, sweetie,” she
replies confidently. “I don’t think he ever meant to hurt me. But…who are the Elites?”
“Oh,” I stammer, pinching the bridge of my nose. “That’s what they call them. The Jamesons. The Whitworths. The Blackwaters. They’re called the Elites. They didn’t call them that back in the day?”
“Ah. Well…I don’t think so. But I don’t really know. I stayed out of all the high school cliques as much as I could. Which is how your father preferred it. He said it was all too cutthroat for someone like me. As long as I was with him, no one messed with me. Other than that, I mostly stayed to myself,” she explains, her eyes drifting to distant memories.
“But Trey and Vincent’s mom…,” I puzzle out loud. “You seemed so friendly with them at the hospital. You had said their mom and you were friends. I thought…”
“We were friendly with each other in school,” she twists her lips glibly. “Like I said, no one had the nerve to be unkind to me when I was with your father.”
If only it could have been like that for me. The only perk that came with Emmett being attracted to me was being tortured, kidnapped, beaten and having my life threatened. And my dad sure didn’t do anything to help me. I still wasn’t even entirely sure he wouldn’t have killed me if it came down to it.
But I guess the kind of protection my mom was talking about was reserved for Vivian in my case. The real girlfriend. I’m suddenly overwhelmed, unable to swallow away the hardness in my throat.
“I’m tired,” I whisper. “I’m going to get some rest.”
“I understand, sweetie,” my mom says sweetly, standing to hug me goodnight. I head for the stairs. “Ophelia,” she adds as I walk away. “Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”
“Come hunt me down if I do, Mom,” I smirk, trying to pass it off as a joke. But I mean it with every fiber of my being.
My father and I aren’t so different in some ways, I think as I shuffle to my bedroom. He refused to bend to the Elites’ intimidation when they ran him out of town. They stripped him of his shares in their business, cast him out into society and made my mother leave him, taking me with her. He never stopped trying to jail them for all their crimes, and then he came charging back after all this time to make them pay.
I may not be able to do much of anything to make the Elites pay for what they’ve done to me. I guess he took care of that for me in a weird way. But I didn’t let them break me. And I only fully realize that now. I may have been afraid and had moments of weakness as anyone would in my position, but I stayed strong. I never let them fully break me.
Except for Emmett. I don’t feel strong when it comes to him. He got to me more than anyone, and now I have to walk around haunted with the memory of him being inside of me.
My shoes are still squishing from the rain across the carpet of my bedroom. I would collapse on my bed right now if I wasn’t soaking wet. I peel the heavy wet clothes from my body, tossing them into the bathtub with a plop. My fingers trail across the bathroom counter, and I wonder if I’ll ever look at one of these the same again.
I try to push it down. I’ll never sleep if I start thinking about Emmett, and I’m in desperate need of rest. But his words haunt me anyway. My stomach turns to remember the way he suggested over and over that he had no choice in all of this. For all that I’ve been through, it never made me do horrible things to the people around me. The only horrible thing I’ve done is fall for him. One thing that I’m certain of is that I never have and never will be as messed up as he is.
I slide on some clean underwear and an oversized shirt, blotting my hair with a towel. I probably need a shower, but I’m too tired. Now that I’m dry, I instantly collapse into bed
It’s an intense feeling to return home when you never thought you would again. Everything feels different. The sheets feel softer. My mom’s cooking wafting from downstairs smells stronger and more inviting than ever before. I’m free. Something that I worried I would never feel again.
I relish in the feeling of my own bed. I am certain that once I fall asleep, I will sleep for a million years. But neighborhood dogs are barking, prompting me to shove my pillow around my ears to block it out. They sound louder than they should, giving me a headache.
The police station. Emmett. My mom. My dad. It all swirls through my head, making me nauseous. I can’t shake the feeling of dread that this isn’t over yet. Emmett won’t give up so easily. It seems my father may not either. Everything between my mom and I will be different now. Especially as I try to recover from this nightmare.
I feel like my chest is caving in from the weight of it all, but thankfully I am so exhausted that my body takes over and goes into autopilot. At some point, I finally drift into a deep and heavy sleep.
25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Things have almost gone back to some semblance of normal. Coach Granger is back and working me harder than ever. I’m happy to have running back as a form of distraction and therapy as I’m still reeling from everything that’s happened.
Brendan and my mom bought into my story, writing off my disappearance as reckless abandonment. I just got so swept up in my feelings for Emmett that we ran off together. They’re of course not happy that I would be so careless, but my mom mostly just seems relieved.
But I think she suspects my father may have reemerged and is somehow responsible for the Elites’ demise. No matter what the police say. I see her frequently reminding herself to write it off as paranoia. She’s just so happy he doesn’t appear to have got to me, that she’s welcomed me back with open arms, just asking that I never do it again.
I still desperately want to ask her more about her side of the story. Especially now that I know they tried to accuse her of adultery to ruin my parents’ marriage. My mom is the most loyal person on the planet, so I have no doubt that it was a set-up. And even if it had been true, it wouldn’t have excused my father’s behavior. She had to be so afraid and alone. Punished for something she didn’t do and then left on her own to raise me.
But I know it’s too soon to start digging things up with her. She’s already suspicious and on high alert, and I could use a little more time to process what I already do know.
I wish my lies were true. I wish this has all just been normal teenage misbehavior. And that my father really hadn’t got to me. If she only knew just how much he did…or how close she came to losing me, I don’t know what she’d do. I have to convince myself my alibi is the true story sometimes, just to make it through the day.
It’s been a few days since the news started spreading about the investigation into all of the Elites’ dirty dealings. Emmett and Bernadette coming out on top, completely unscathed as promised. But word is that Bernadette is so distraught from the loss of her father that she’s completely hysterical and inconsolable. She obviously didn’t know her father the way Emmett did.
My heart hurts for Bernadette in a way. To see her own father be murdered. I remind myself that she’ll have it out for me. After all, it was my father who killed him. But maybe Emmett will protect me. I have no idea how he feels about me now that I’ve refused to give in and give him a chance at redemption.
I’ve heard nothing from my father, thankfully. I know he never really cared about me. I was just as much a pawn to him as I was to the Elites. Emmett claims I was more to him, but I haven’t heard from him either ever since I asked him to leave me alone. I told him only space and time would determine if I could ever find some way to forgive him. It was a fib I threw out to get him to leave me alone, thinking I would never really be able to trust him again.
But secretly, I did wonder if I could bring myself to open up to him. I am still fiercely attracted to him, and there aren’t many parts of the day when he isn’t taking up at least some portion of my brain. I worry it might be some kind of Stockholm syndrome, so I am grateful for the space to sort it out.
I fire through track practice, leaving all the other girls in the dust. Though the nightmare I’ve been through took
up a lot of time, putting me out of practice, I have a new fuel out on the track. Now running is a mission to escape everything I have been through. I tell myself if I run fast enough, maybe it will all be so far behind me that I won’t see it at all anymore.
Every slam of my foot to the ground is the crushing of another memory. Each mile behind me puts me further into the future. Every pained breath in my lungs washes out more of Emmett. I am taking it one day at a time, but at this rate…everything will be behind me in no time.
The other girls can’t even touch me now. No matter what hell they’ve seen in their lives, I doubt any of it holds a candle to what I’ve experienced. Emmett and I are connected in that way now. The strange isolated privileged life of wealth he’s known makes him so different from everyone else around him. And now I feel different too.
As I’m finishing up, I can’t help but think how happy I am that Coach Granger is back. I don’t pry into his personal life to ask what pulled him away, but I suspect the Elites had something to do with it. Maybe he was the only person they couldn’t sway, so they caused some kind of trouble in his life that forced him to be away.
“Good work out there today, kid,” Coach Granger beams, patting me on the shoulder.
“It’s good to have you back,” I tell him, swinging a towel over my shoulder as I head for the locker room. “Is everything okay? You were out for a pretty long time.”
His stare grows distant and stern. “Just some trouble at home,” he answers lightly, with a strange unease about him. “It’s funny,” he remarks in a way that doesn’t sound amused at all, “I had just mentioned to some people I know how worried I was about you right before everything happened.”
“Before what happened?” I ask cluelessly.
“I heard you were absent for a bit yourself while I was gone,” he continues. “According to the other girls on our team. If I didn’t know any better…I’d think someone wanted me out of the way for something.” He lets the idea hang there, studying me carefully.