“You walked into that ring, and within seconds the other bloke was unconscious. And how the others went at each other…” She lets the sentence trail dead. “I don’t know how to understand that. If the bloke goes down you stop, surely you stop. If you don’t have any boundaries then…” She shakes her head and starts to withdraw her hand.
I grab for it and hold her hand against my chest with both of mine.
“I have boundaries. They don’t, Emma. I’m only doing this so I can get to the finish line. Girls have been disappearin’, and we have the who, but not the when and where, not for certain. I have to go through the rounds to make sure the next one doesn’t go missing. That next one could very well be you. Katia hasn’t shown interest in any other girls yet – so you’re it for our group.” Her eyes go wide, and I might have stepped over the boundary right about there. “But I won’t let anything happen, because I do protect those close to me! I do protect, Emma. Like I said, I fight so others won’t have to. Don’t go lookin’ at me the same as your father. I’m not him. You need to give me a chance. I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me yet. I have not lied to you.”
She meets my gaze and she holds it. The longer she holds it, the more intense it starts to get in the room. I want to kiss her doubts away, but the last thing I want to do is scare her.
“Your secret is safe, Detective. I won’t tell anyone, Detective. Ever. You’re right, Detective,” she pronounces each word clearly, slowly.
I can’t read her eyes. There’s nothing there.
She pulls away and walks to the bathroom. Maybe she just needs time. I’ll give her time, but I’m not someone to let things go.
~*~
I can’t sleep. I’ve been checking in on her since she fell asleep. I can’t get what she said out of my head. The way she said it. It sounded just like what she whimpered in her dream, and I know I shouldn’t, but I take her phone and laptop. I need to know more. I need to know why, and I need to know how I can fix this. I check on her again, curled up real small on the double bed, before going back to the privacy of my room. I’m relieved when her phone comes on without needing any passwords.
Missed calls, again twelve from mum.
Messages. Let’s hear them. I open her laptop up while I listen to the phone go through the basics. A beep.
‘Babes, you can’t do this to me! You won’t survive out there. Come home or I’ll come and fetch you.’
Okay, sounds a bit worried.
‘You’re nothing without me! Do you hear me? Nothing! I brought you into this world. I made you who you are. You need me to think for you. People can’t be trusted.’
I sit and stare at the blank screen of Emma’s laptop.
‘Are you shacking up with some bloke? Are you making yourself cheap? No one is good enough for you, babes. You’re mine! You’re so beautiful, but you just can’t think for yourself. Are you even eating right? How can you do this to me after all I’ve done for you! How dare you!’
Her mother is sounding more and more venomous. I stop listening when I hear something. Not sure what it was, I close the laptop to go check it out.
Whimpering. Emma’s whimpering again, like the night before. I open her door wider. She twists and turns, and then tumbles off the other side of the bed. I hurry into the room and round the corner of the bed as she kicks at the covers wound around her legs. Her breathing comes in quick little puffs, and her eyes are wide, too wide.
When she looks up at me her eyes are filled with such despair, it twists at my heart.
“Please get it off me.”
I’m down next to her, and I only need to yank at the sheet once to throw it aside. She reaches for me with both arms and I slip mine around her trembling body, pulling her to me. She molds herself around me, wrapping her legs around my waist.
“I have you, Emma.”
She presses her face against my neck and I carry her back to my room. I hold her tight with one arm as I throw the cover back.
“Lower your legs for me, sweetheart.” I’ll never call her babe again. It’s too close to what her mother calls her.
She lowers her legs and I lay her down. I get in next to her and cover us. Her arms wrap around me, and her wet cheek presses hard against my chest. I weave my hands into her hair and turn into her, shielding her.
“Sleep, Emma. I have you. You’re safe.”
I whisper the words to her again before she drifts off. I recap what I’ve figured out – Emma doesn’t trust me because her father doesn’t protect her from her mother, only I don’t know what exactly it is her mother is guilty of doing, I only know it’s bad enough to give her nightmares.
I lift myself slightly and look down at her sleeping face. It’s not even a full two days and she’s managed to somehow crawl into my life. I’ve always loved being a cop, but she wakes up something else in me, a need to take care of someone else besides myself.
The thought settles warm inside of me and I hold her tighter. I finally fall asleep.
~*~
I wake up alone. No Emma.
When I sit up and I can think clearly enough, I notice no phone and laptop. I dart out of the bed, and, heart racing, I head for her room. If she’s gone…
Relief washes over me when she comes out of her room. She has the laptop, and I watch as she gently puts it down on the coffee table in the living room. Then she rushes back to her room. She’s dressed damn smart. I mean … WOW. Cream blouse, black pants that sit just right, and sandals. I step closer to her room and watch her brush her hair. It’s hurried movements, over and over. She grabs a box and disappears into the bathroom.
“Emma?” She doesn’t answer.
She’s doing her make-up. Not like I’ve seen her wear it the past two days. It’s all-out make-up. Powder and stuff. I stand back so I don’t get caught up in it. I notice the tremble when she does her mascara and lipstick. She pauses to look at herself for a second. Then she takes a shaky breath, and heads right by me for the living room. The laptop.
She sits down in front of it, opens it up, shifts it back a bit and types on it. Up until this point she just seemed jittery.
Then Emma changes. It’s like she flips a switch. She folds her hands together, grasping tightly, and her shoulders drop.
“Mum,” she says with the same whimpering voice I’ve heard now for two nights in a row.
“Emma, you disappoint me.” It comes from the laptop. “After all I’ve done for you. After all I sacrificed, this is how you repay me? You run away? Am I such a horrible mother that you want to hurt me like this? It would have been better for you to have ripped my heart out. Next time take a knife and dig the bloody thing out.” The voice goes all weepy and Emma looks down, all submissive.
Oh. Hell.
“No, Mum. I’m sorry, Mum. It’s not Mum, it’s me. Mum has only been wonderful. I’m selfish, Mum. I don’t deserve Mum.”
I can’t listen to this. I walk, no, I stalk toward Emma, but she doesn’t notice me, because that woman consumes her.
“I have to threaten to cut you off to get you to talk to me! What have I done to deserve such treatment from you? You’ve ignored all my calls, my messages,” I hear a sharp intake of breath and Emma cringes, “What do you mean you need a break? From what may I ask? You won’t last a day without me!”
“I’m so sorry, Mum. I was stupid, Mum.”
I move in behind her, protectively. I can protect her. I will protect her.
“Who. Is. That?” her mother hisses.
She doesn’t look anything like Emma. Red hair and dark eyes. A hard face.
Emma looks over her shoulder at me. She starts to rise, then slumps right back down, almost defeated.
“Mum,” she panics. “My flatmate. He’s my flatmate,” she says it twice as if she’s trying to convince, or pacify, her mother.
“Shacking up, are you? You’re not even gone a full week and look what’s become of you!”
I place my hands on the back of the couch so I ha
ve something to hold onto.
“I know, Mum. I’m so, so sorry, Mum.” Emma continues to pacify the woman. “Mum’s right.”
I’m a little stunned to say the least. It’s taking my brain a minute or two to sum up what’s going on, and for a moment all I can do is frown at the woman on the screen.
“Look what you look like!” her mother hisses, “In a fortnight he’ll have you turning tri-”
I reach over and close the laptop on her mother. That’s about as much as I can take, because it sinks in – Emma actually ran away from home. She skipped a country to get away from that woman and I can see why.
Emma gasps. She sits for a few seconds, then she jumps up and runs to her room. Her phone, it’s buzzing. I go after her and take it from her before she can press it to her ear.
“Mrs. Walker,” I say calmly, as Emma spins around.
Her eyes are wide with fear. She reaches for the phone, but I take hold of her hand, turning out of her reach.
“Who do you think you are?” her mother seethes over the line.
“Detective Holden. I’d be careful what you say next.” I warn. “I’m not Emma, and I sure as hell am not your husband.”
“Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?” she snaps. “I want to talk to my daughter.” More demands? She can go crazy for all I care, she’s barking up the wrong tree.
I glance at a horrified Emma. She’s gone pale, and it’s making her eyes look even bigger. There are red spots spreading up from her collarbone to her neck. I’ve never seen one person have so much control over another.
“There will be none of that, ma’am. I’m afraid you can’t talk to Emma. You’ve done enough. She’ll be staying with me for a while.” Right there I make the decision. Right there I decide to help her in any way I can.
“You can’t keep her there. She’s a British citizen. She’s mine,” her mother fumes.
“I’ll keep her away from you any way I can. I’ll find a way so you won’t see her again.” I don’t know how long I have until Emma’s visa expires. I’ll have to get it renewed.
“Tell her I’m cutting her off. You want her. You take care of her,” her mother screams, and the line cuts off.
I drop the phone on the bed and tug Emma closer.
“What did you do?” she whimpers. She’s trembling all over and won’t look up at me.
“I took an oath to serve and protect. Yesterday you told me how you felt about policemen. Today I’m showin’ you what the job is all about.” I take hold of her chin and nudge her face up.
“By doing more harm than good? By upsetting her more?”
“You can’t go through that every day, Emma. Let her cut you off. I’ll help you.”
She yanks loose and staggers back, as if I’ve actually hit her. She has that same look on her face she had last night next to the road. She looks terrified and I instinctively take a step closer.
“Cut me off? She said that?” she gasps.
“You’ll be fine,” I reassure her. “You have me.”
“I don’t know you!” She grabs fistfuls of her hair, looking as if she’s in physical pain. “I’m … nothing. I can’t. How will I? What have you done? Do you know what it takes to calm her down? I’ll have to go back.” Her face distorts and she looks sick. “I’ll have to go back to her. Oh God, you don’t know what you’ve done.”
I grab hold of her shoulders and pull her in. “Emma, listen to me.” Her eyes snap up to mine and I pin them. “You’re not going back. How long is your visa valid for?” I have to get her thinking. She’s been consumed for too long.
“Six months. For six months,” she whispers.
Her breaths are coming way too fast. This poor girl is really scared out of her mind. I wrap my arms around her, and press her face to my chest.
“You’ve paid the apartment for six months. You have six months before you have to go back. You’re not going back,” I spell it out for her.
“You don’t understand, Aiden.” She shakes her head. “If she cuts me off I have nothing. How will I get around? What will I –”
I take a breath, I’m so not trained for this. “You said you wanted to experience new things,” I’m grasping at damn straws again. “Experience them here. Experience what it’s like to accept help from someone. Experience what good ole’ Southern hospitality is all about. Just stay and experience what it is you came to experience. Not everyone in the world is out to get you, some of us are just nice.” I lift her face up to mine and watch her, waiting and praying she’ll hear me. I’ve never wanted to help someone this bad in my life before.
~*~
Chapter Seven
Emma~
I focus on getting my heart rate under control. My chest is aching, and if I can just breathe right the pain will go away. I still can’t believe what he just did. My mother must be having a royal fit. She saw Aiden in just his slacks. She saw his bloody tattoo! OMG!
I look at his ruffled hair, then drop my eyes to his chest, and I take in all the ink. I try to look at him the way my mother would, but I can’t. I’m not anything like her. I see his strength, and his words “you have me” run through my mind again.
He’s really bodged things up for me back home, and I don’t know if anything he told me yesterday is true, because he’s undercover.
“How old are you?” I finally focus on one question.
He tilts his head and he looks surprised. I’ve certainly gone and pulled the rug from under his feet. Well, he pulled my world from under mine.
“Twenty-seven,” he answers carefully.
“You’re five years older than me?” What’s another shock to add to my already disastrous day? He just looked so much younger. I thought he was twenty-four, maybe twenty-five.
I pull away from him, putting a few steps between us. Crikey! He’s so much older than me. He’s not a bloke, he’s a man! My stomach does a flip-flop as the thought hits me.
“I am,” he says.
“Are you really from South Carolina?”
I need to know more about him. There’s no way I’m staying a second longer if I don’t know everything, even his blood type.
“Yes, I’m from Lyman. My folks are there. My mom is in the force; my dad is in the force. My sister, Laurie, was in the force, and my younger brother, Wyatt, joined up about a year back.” I pick up the past tense he uses when he refers to his sister.
“How long have you been one?” I ask my next question. I’m asking bloody questions. Have I lost it? I must get on the phone and beg my mother’s forgiveness! I should phone Chloe. I should pack and run. His whole family are coppers. They. All. Are!
“I served in the army for two years. I went to college when I came back. I’ve been on the force for five,” he says, stopping for a second, “I just made detective, but it was more luck than anything else.”
“What is your blood type?” He frowns.
“B positive.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Is that really important?”
“If you’re bleeding to death and they ask me that, then yeah, I suppose it is.” I wipe the smile from his face, but I’m not happy about it. I’m not happy about any of this. I want to crawl under the bed and hide until it all just blows over.
“How did you know what to do last night?” he asks a question back.
I swallow. Of course he wouldn’t have missed that. “I just finished qualifying as a nurse.”
Oh, yeah. It’s my turn to shock him.
He stares real hard at me. Seconds tick by. Long seconds. Seconds in which the panic I just managed to get rid of wells back up in my chest. I hate feeling anxious. I hate the pain it brings when it feels like your ribs are trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“I’m really confused,” he starts. “If you qualified as a nurse, why study more?”
He’s upset. I don’t know what to do when he’s upset. My chest tightens even more and I fold m
y hands at my stomach to ease the burning sensation. I can’t look at him any more, so I look down like the coward I am and always will be.
“I came here to get away. I’m not even sure what course I enrolled for. Something to do with fables. I’ll ten to one be learning about Peter Pan,” I mumble.
“You did what?” he snaps.
I flinch. My mother never raises her voice. She gives me speeches, a lot of speeches, but she never raises her voice. She’s always either sarcastic or dripping with poison. I don’t know what to do now. I only know how to handle my mother.
“Fables might be interesting.” I murmur. What? What the hell am I on about? I think I’m losing it. Finally going nutters.
“Emma, are you listening to yourself?” he asks. I start to nod so he’ll see I’m listening.
“I’m so stupid,” I agree. Maybe if I agree with him like I do with my mother he’ll stop being upset.
“No,” he exclaims, and steps up to me. I force myself to stand still but I can’t stop the trembling as it spreads over me. I’m scared. This is new and I don’t know what to do. “No, you’re not. Just dammed desperate,” he says. His voice softens, “Why not just come here on a working visa? Is it somethin’ you wanted to do, be a nurse?”
“No,” I answer truthfully. I swallow hard at the lump in my throat. “I studied what I was told to study.” I don’t want to talk about me any more. I’m feeling rather self-conscious.
“Hey,” he whispers, “Emma?”
His hand brushes softly down my arm and my heart does that thing where it scarpers right through the roof, abandoning me. I dare a glance up at him, but instead of it being a quick one, he takes hold of my chin, lifting my face to his. I start blinking fast to stop the tears. I don’t understand why he’s being nice now. His other hand takes hold of mine and he lifts it to his chest, holding it there.
“You’re gonna be fine. You have a bed to sleep in. You have a roof over your head. You’re gonna learn about some fables on Monday,” he shakes his head and smiles. “And as soon as you’re in something more comfortable, we’re gonna go grab some breakfast, because I’m starvin’.” He leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.
Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries) Page 8