His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1)

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His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) Page 34

by SAKINA HUSSAIN


  "Emily! Emily, calm down!" I plead, wrapping my arms around her small frame. She finally gives in and sobs into my chest, her body vibrating through her tears. I pull her back gently, searching her lost big brown eyes.

  She's scared, terrified even.

  "I need to leave." She whispers shakily, eyes wide with fear. I shake my head at her words, looking down at her sadly.

  "You can't leave." I whisper, stroking her hair with my hand. She frowns at me and tugs away once again, almost escaping this time. My hand shoots out once again and I pull her back to my chest, wrapping my hands in her hair before tilting her head up and crashing my lips down on hers.

  My mind whirls with emotions and I sigh against her lips, loving how soft and gentle they feel against mine. The feeling is suddenly ripped away from me as she pulls back, her eyes wide with shock.

  She lifts a hand to her lips before her eyes finally flash with realisation. My own eyes widen and I take a step back, running a hand over my face.

  "Shit." I mumble. Before I can tell her how much of a mistake that was, her other hand flies out and lands hard on my cheek. The sting is instant and I take a step back from her, my jaw clenched.

  "How dare you!" She chokes out, tears streaming down her face. She shakes her head at me in disgust before turning on her heel and running out of the room. I stand alone, my cheek stinging from the force of her slap.

  I guess I deserved that. . .

  Chapter Fifty Seven - Breaking apart.

  Emily's POV -

  I suck in a breath, my vision blurry as I hurry around my room, throwing clothes into a bag. All I can think about is Jake with his gun, the terror he bought me and everyone else in that club. . .

  I's locked my door to stop Tobias from getting in. There is no way I even want to look at him right now. . .

  If I did, I'd probably slap him again.

  "Asshole!" I yell frantically, chucking my clothes into the bag before zipping it up. I glance down at my clothes and grimace at the sight of me, I'm still wearing yesterday's outfit. My makeup is smudged and my hair is rotten tangled mess.

  I probably look like a crazy psycho right now, yelling to myself.

  I glance around the room I've called mine for the past couple of months and a tear runs down my face as my eyes land on the picture on my nightstand. It's laid down flat because I had meant to buy a frame for it as soon as I could but things kept getting in the way.

  Jake is stood behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist and his chin resting on my shoulders. He beams brightly, his teeth shining in the sun. I mirror his smile, my fingers intertwined with his. I was blowing a kiss at his face and I remember the happiness I felt in that exact moment.

  My hands reach for the photo and I trace over it before a loud sob escapes my chest. I rip it in two angrily, the photo tearing straight down the middle. I yell before chucking it onto the floor and sob loudly, my hand flying up to my mouth.

  This is it . . . It's over.

  Whoever said you couldn't feel your heart break was wrong . . . so wrong. My heart ached with every piece that was falling off and it was killing me slowly. I lie on the floor, tears falling freely down my face.

  I don't want to leave him, I don't want to walk away but I know I have to . . . For myself.

  I can't live my life like this.

  I escaped Trevor and survived Jones so I'm not prepared to live the rest of my life in fear with Jake. Every time I close my eyes, instead of his smiling face, all I see is fear. My fear as he stands in front of me clutching a gun tightly. I'm still struggling to come to terms with the nightmare Jones put me through and all I want is to be happy and safe.

  Jake makes you happy Emily.

  I ignore the niggling voice in the back of my head and grab my bag, wiping my eyes that are now red, stinging from hours of pained tears. I sigh deeply, composing myself and head for the door, opening it slowly. Everywhere is silent so I take my chance to escape. I fling the bag over my shoulder and head for the stairs, quickly but quietly.

  The last thing I want right now is to run into Jake or Tobias. I'm afraid if I see Jake, I'd give in and stay, completely breaking down. I make it down the stairs and can see the front door right in front of me.

  Just a couple more steps.

  "Emily, no!" Tobias runs down the stairs and stands in front of me, his arms outstretched, keeping distance between us both.

  I inhale deeply, closing my eyes.

  "Tobias, get out of my way."

  "Emily, please don't leave!" He pleads, his eyes large and persuading. I shake my head immediately -

  "I have to."

  "No you don't, you can get past this."

  I clench my jaw at him, throwing my bag to the floor. It lands with a loud thump and I stare straight at him, my eyes never blinking. My hand lifts my shirt up and I point at my dressing that covered the ugly scar.

  "Do you see this? I'm still dealing with it!" I yell at him, letting my shirt fall back down. Tobias' eyes drift to the floor and he appears sad, his posture deflated.

  "I cannot deal with this and Jake's gang at the same time, like you said Tobias. . . It's me or the gang," I add quietly, picking my bag up and swinging it over my shoulder. I grunt from the effort before taking a step forward.

  "Let me go," I whisper and he shakes his head, his eyes pleading with me full of sadness.

  "What about Jake?" He says, grabbing my hand. I pull it free from his grasp, my heart clenching tightly with the decision I'm making.

  "He chose the gang." I choke out, feeling my heart shatter once again. It feels like a razor was cutting through every fond moment, every fond memory I have with Jake.

  "No Emily, he loves you." Tobias murmurs. My heart clenches tightly at his words almost as if a hand is wrapped around it, squeezing it painfully. It travels up to my throat, restricting my ability to breathe.

  He loves you.

  "Not enough," I respond, choking back a sob. I dodge around Tobias and he makes no attempt to stop me leaving this time. I pull open the door and shut it quietly behind me.

  It's over.

  *****

  Jake's POV -

  "What do you mean, she's gone?" I croak out, my head spinning from the pain I'm feeling right now. I reach over, grabbing the painkillers and throw them to the back of my throat, swallowing them dry.

  "Where has she gone?" I ask Tobias who's now looking down at the floor, his hands at his sides. A bad feeling settles in my stomach and I sit up straighter, groaning from the effort.

  "Tobias?" I ask quietly, my lungs tightening.

  Why isn't he answering me?

  "Tobias!" I yell, causing him to flinch. He looks up, his eyes large and full of regret.

  "She's gone, she's left you." Tobias says quietly, his voice timid.

  "What the hell do you mean, she's left me?" I say, my voice rising. I swing back the covers and attempt to get out of bed. My legs immediately give in, unable to support my weight and I fall to the floor, my teeth gritted tightly together from the pain.

  "Jake, you need to rest."

  "I don't believe you!" I yell, tears pricking my eyes. She couldn't have left me, she loves me.

  I love her.

  "She's gone Jake," Tobias says, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. Once I'm on my feet, I lean against the wall, letting it support my weight before I hobble towards her room.

  I groan from the pains invading my body, I've never had a beating so bad. Amil well and truly whooped my ass.

  I make my way to her bedroom, my lungs tightening as I kick open the door. Her wardrobe doors are flung open, hangers all over the floor. My heart instantly drops to my stomach as I fall to the floor, my knees shaking from the strain of walking. I crawl my way towards her bed, feeling like I'm living a nightmare. I shake my head, looking around, refusing to believe she's gone.

  She can't be gone.

  I turn towards the door, seeing Tobias and Ivory kneeling against the frame, looking at me with sympathy i
n their eyes.

  "Where is she?!" I yell. I feel a stab of pain run through my heart and I let out a scream, punching the floors with as much force as I could. Pain instantly flares through my hand and I hiss, clutching it against my chest.

  My eyes land on two pieces of paper torn on the floor and I suck in a breath.

  "No, no, no!" I yell, crawling my way towards them. I ignore the blood dripping down my temple from a wound that had sprung open, it wasn't important right now.

  I pick the pieces of paper up, turning them round and taking in the heart warming image.

  She'd torn it up, torn us up.

  "No!" I repeat, my voice breaking as I yell loudly. Ivory runs over to me, throwing her arms over my neck before she pulls me close into her chest. I struggle at first, my brain full of confused muddled up thoughts. She holds on tight and I grip onto her arms for support, my heart breaking as my small cries fill the cold empty room.

  "It's my fault." I gasp, feeling my lungs squeeze tightly from the lack of oxygen I'm getting. How could I have been such an idiot? I pushed her away, tainted our relationship. The best thing that had ever happened to me was now gone.

  "Breathe Jake, it's okay. It's going to be okay." Ivory soothes me, pulling me close to her.

  "She's gone because of me," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. My head reels and I feel my stomach clench tightly, threatening to bring up the little contents of my stomach.

  "It's all because of me," I choke out, the guilt and pain spinning me into a hole of darkness.

  Chapter Fifty Eight - Roof over my head.

  I watch as his old sports car chugs to a halt in front of me and he turns off his engine. He opens the driver door before stepping out slowly, his arms outstretched. I immediately fall into them, his comfort sealing over my pain a little.

  "Shh Elly, it's going to be okay."

  "Oh Grandad, it's all such a mess," I whisper, inhaling his woody scent. His presence immediately calms me down and he pulls back, sadness filling his eyes. His hand reaches up, wiping tears away that I didn't even realise had fallen —

  "You should have rang me sooner sweetheart."

  "I didn't want to upset you Pops," I respond truthfully, giving him an apologetic smile. He shakes his head sadly, motioning for me to get in the front seat.

  "We'll talk more once I get you away from here Elly," he says softly and I nod, opening his front car door and taking a seat, placing my bag near my feet. He turns the key in the engine and motions for me to pull my seatbelt over. I obey and sniffle, wiping away the unshed tears from the corner of my eyes.

  "How does a hot chocolate and apple pie sound honey?" He says, driving down the road. I smile warmly at him, my eyes glistening with pain and tears.

  "That sounds great Pops."

  *****

  An hour later, I'm settled in Gran's old pyjama's with a warm hot chocolate in my hand. A blanket is draped over my knees, providing me warmth. I've showered, removing last night's makeup. My hair is clean and drying naturally, falling down past my shoulders.

  "Are you sure you don't mind me wearing Nana's pyjama's?" I ask him, looking up at Pops as he enters the room. He shakes his head at me, placing a small plate of pie in my lap. The delicious smell instantly wafts towards me and my stomach grumbles loudly causing Grandad to chuckle —

  "Of course I don't mind Elly, you remind me so much of her," he says sadly, his eyes full of love as he speaks of Nana. I swallow the lump in my throat, remembering the news that she'd died a few years ago. Trevor wouldn't let me go to her funeral and I cried for days, locking myself in my room. I'll never ever forgive him for forbidding me to say goodbye.

  "I miss Nana so much," I mumble, settling further into the couch.

  "She missed you too, once your father died we never really saw much of you. . . "

  "My father dying changed lots of things," I mumble, averting my eyes away from him. Moments of silence pass and when I look back up at Pops, his eyes glisten with tears.

  "You know now that he wasn't your biological father?"

  I nod grimly, the pain still clear in my chest. "He'll always be my father," I whisper quietly. Pops places a hand on my knee, giving me a reassuring smile.

  "I always liked him, he was a good man and absolutely adored you. His little princess, that's what he called you."

  I smile warmly at him before a thought crossed my mind —

  "Did Dad know I wasn't his?" I ask and Pops looks away sadly, nodding at my question.

  Wow. I have no words.

  There are so many secrets within this family, I'm struggling to keep up. I look away, feeling hurt that I was kept in the dark from all this. I'm the one who it would effect the most yet no-one told me. As if Pops could read my thoughts, he spoke up again —

  "You adored your father Emily and your real father wasn't someone suitable to be in your life. You were such a delicate little thing and he was a nasty piece of work. That's why we didn't tell you, it would break your little heart."

  I nod at his words, understanding where he's coming from. Jones isn't exactly the type of father who would tuck you into bed at night and read you silly animal stories, doing all the voices.

  My hand hovers over my stomach and I silence, debating on whether I should tell Pops what happened. They'd kept me in the dark over so many things and now here I am, doing the same.

  How exactly do you tell your grandad your real father shot you and put you in a coma for several weeks?

  So that's exactly why I decide to keep quiet about it, I don't want to hurt him any further.

  "What happened Elly?" He asks me quietly and I inhale a deep breath, knowing he would ask this question soon enough.

  "I don't think I want to talk about it Pops," I shake my head sadly, feeling fresh tears form at the brim of my eyes. I think of Jake, his beautiful smile and the cheeky glint in his eyes.

  How can someone so precious to me be involved in something so evil?

  "That's okay honey, whenever you're ready, I'm here. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need."

  I nod thankfully at him, giving him a warm smile.

  "Thank you, I didn't have anywhere else to go," I say truthfully. There's no way I'm going back to live with Mum and I explained that to Pops on the phone.

  "It'll be nice having some company, I get lonely sometimes," he says, taking a bite of his pie. I immediately feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. Sadness washes over me as I realise I haven't visited him once since leaving Mum and Trevor.

  "I'm here now Pops" I say quietly and he gives me a toothy smile which I happily return. Even though my heart is broken and my life is a mess, I know I can rely on my Pops to get me through it.

  *****

  I pack away the very little things I bought with me and take a seat on the bed, looking around. The room is much smaller than I remember and the decor has changed slightly.

  The walls of my new bedroom are painted a cream colour, paintings of the countryside hung up on the walls. The furniture is an oak chestnut colour and consisted of a small dresser and bedside table. There's a handmade woven rug full of warm pink, red and brown tones at the foot of my bed with a matching blanket. I smile warmly, stroking the fabric.

  It looks like the work of Grandma. She loved to knit, crochet and design home decor.

  "Do you remember this room?" Grandad appears at the doorway and I nod, looking around once again.

  "How can I forget? Some of my best memories are in this room," I respond fondly, remembering how I adored this room as a little girl. I would spend endless hours on the floor, drawing little pictures before hanging them up, covering the walls with them.

  "Maybe now you can create some more," Pops responds, entering my room. I shuffle further up my bed, making room for him and he thanks me, taking a seat on the end.

  "I have something for you," Pops says, holding out his hand. I glance down an gasp at the dainty chain he's holding in his hand. It's simply beautiful, the chain
glistening in the light. At the end of the chain lies a little bird charm and I reach for it, holding it gently. My fingers brush over the bird pendant, feeling how smooth it is under my skin.

  "I love it," I breathe out, leaning forward to embrace Pops in a hug. He pulls back and takes the necklace from me, motioning for me to turn around.

  I lift my hair and feel the cool chain slide against my neck before he clasps it at the back. I run my fingers over it and turn, beaming at him.

  "It's beautiful Pops."

  "It was your Nana's. I bought it for her on her eighteenth birthday. She absolutely adored it."

  "Oh grandad, I can't take this," I shake my head sadly. He put out his hand, waving my words off —

  "Nonsense, it's been sat in a drawer for years. At least I get to see it be put to good use now," he smiles and I feel my heart warm for my love for him. He's such a genuinely lovely caring man and I'm proud to call him my Pops.

  *****

  That night I lie in my new bedroom, wide awake staring at the ceiling. The patterns start to blur together and even when I shut my eyes tightly, sleep never comes. My body is exhausted but my mind is chaotic, countless thoughts running back and forth.

  So I lie still till the sun rises, peeking through my curtains. I thinking about everything, the roller coaster of my life the last few months.

  Jones, Dad, Mum, Pops, Jake. . .

  Not one single tear falls from my eye as I'm officially drained from crying any longer. I'm dried up, emotionless as I lie there, my life falling apart piece by piece.

  I'd lost my family and my boyfriend all within a space of a few months. Trevor tried to kill me and almost succeeded. I'd found out my father wasn't my real father. I'd found out my real father was actually a deranged psycho cop that should have been locked up years ago. I've been shot, beaten, put in a coma. My body is shutting down from years of pain and misery and my mind is going downhill with it. My mental health is at an all time low and I feel trapped inside a dark hole, alone.

  The only person I have left is Pops and I know I couldn't stay under his roof forever. He's an old man, I couldn't burden him with the pressure of looking after me.

 

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