by A. K. Evans
I was lying on my side looking at her. She was on her back looking at the ceiling. We stayed like that a long time before she turned her head to me. She took a deep swallow and that’s when I knew she had something she wanted to say.
“What is it, Emme?” I asked.
Her eyes roamed my face before she admitted, “I’m afraid to sleep.”
“I know, Em. I’ll be right here and if you have a nightmare I’ll do what I can to get you out of it quickly.”
She held my eyes a moment before she asked, “Will you hold me?”
I let out a breath and promised, “Forever, sweetheart.”
I moved toward her while she turned her body toward mine. Wrapping an arm around her waist I carefully pulled her into my body. Her face was pressed into my neck and I bent my head down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
Within minutes, exhaustion took over and we were both asleep.
Chapter 32
Emme
It was the beginning of the summer after I turned eight years old when I fell off my bike and broke my arm. School had just let out two weeks beforehand. It hurt and I remember thinking at the time that it was the worst possible thing that could happen to me. Not only did I break my arm, but I did it at the beginning of the summer. There was nothing good about the situation. I was stuck in a cast that was hot and itchy. I started feeling like I smelled horribly after about a week in the California sun. And, of course, I was eight, it was summer, and I lived by the beach. Do you know what it’s like to get sand in your cast? Miserable.
I remember after I got the cast on the doctor told my parents that since I had suffered trauma to my arm I’d likely experience more significant pain the first few days of being in the cast. At that time the doctor was referring, obviously, to the physical trauma. He never mentioned all of the psychological trauma I was going to experience as a result of spending my entire summer in a stupid, freaking cast. It was that summer when I first learned that physical trauma paled in comparison to psychological.
Of course, what one considers traumatizing when they are eight years old is insignificant in most cases later in life. That said, it doesn’t change the lesson I learned. Your body would almost always heal and you could manage the physical pain with meds, but your mind was another story.
I was currently in Zane’s bed wrapped in his arms and I was watching him sleep. He was such a beautiful man. I meant that in more than just physical looks. This man had the most caring soul. The first night I met him he insisted on walking my friends and me out to the car. Every day I spent with him after that night he always put my happiness and well-being first. Nothing, though, compared to the tenderness and love he showed me over the last several hours. He took extraordinary measures to not only see to my physical injuries, but also the psychological ones.
Even now, while he was asleep, he somehow managed to comfort me and bring me a sense of peace. As I looked at him I began wondering how he was dealing with all of this. Given his protective nature, I can only imagine the worry and distress he had been under after I was taken, when he watched the live feed, and then once he found me.
His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at me. His face warmed and he said, “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
“My body hurts,” I answered honestly.
I could see the pain register in his eyes. He hated that I had been hurt. He lifted his head up and turned to the nightstand to check the time. When he looked back to me he said, “My mom should be here within the next thirty minutes to an hour. Maybe she can give you something a little stronger to help with the pain.”
I nodded, still feeling overwhelmed at the concern he showed for me.
It was then I noticed a different look on his face, something I’d only ever seen once before. It was the same look he had the night I stayed at his place but told him I wouldn’t stay in the same room with him. The look was all frustration, but this time it was mixed with a bit of anger. I tensed. Had I been wrong? Why was he frustrated and angry? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that, so I kept quiet.
“What is it, Em?” he asked.
My brows drew together.
“You’re rock solid right now. What’s wrong?”
I didn’t think I couldn’t handle confrontation right now and I definitely knew I would not be able to deal with any form of rejection from him, so I chose to not bring it up.
“Nothing,” I lied.
I hated myself the moment the word came out of my mouth.
He looked at me a moment contemplating. I’m certain he knew I had just lied to him but, for whatever reason, he let it slide. Even still, it didn’t do anything to quell the tension I now felt between us.
“Know you don’t want to be left alone, but I also know your body probably can’t handle too much jostling around either. Do you want me to carry you downstairs with me so I can get you something to eat?”
Maybe he needed a break…some time to himself? He literally hadn’t left my side since he got me out of that house.
“I’m not really hungry, but go ahead and get yourself something. I need to pee so I’ll use the bathroom and you can go down,” I said, even though I really didn’t want to be out of his presence.
“Emme, you have to eat something,” he pleaded.
The thought of food turned my stomach right now, but I didn’t want to upset him.
“Ok. Just some dry toast then.”
“Alright. You sure you’re going to be ok until I come back up?” he asked.
I nodded.
“One more thing, I spoke with Wes last night when I was in Levi’s truck on my way to get you and then on the way back home while you were asleep. Everyone was worried so I wanted to let them know that you were safe. He said the girls didn’t have a good night and would want to see you. Are you up for that later today?”
Oh no. I can only imagine the distress the girls must have been under after I was abducted last night. They had to have been worried sick, and it all happened on the anniversary of Taj’s death. Those girls were my sisters; there was no way I would deny them the opportunity to see me so I said, “Sure.”
Zane got up out of the bed, threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and walked around to the side I was on.
“Let me help you up,” he said as he pulled back the blankets and waited while I rolled myself over in the bed. I moved to sit up and winced in pain. My abdomen and my ribs screamed in agony. Zane immediately took the stress off my body and lifted me up in his arms. He walked to the door of the bathroom and put me down on my feet just outside the doorway. Once I was steady on my feet he said, “Yell if you need me.”
I nodded my acknowledgement and slowly walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I made my way to the toilet, did my business, and walked back to sink to wash my hands. As I was drying my hands, I looked up and that was when I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time since everything had happened.
Holy. Crap.
My left eye was seriously bruised and swollen. My lip was split open.
I gripped the edge of the sink and stared at myself. I didn’t even recognize the person staring back at me. Perhaps that was the best thing about being hospitalized a year ago. I didn’t have the opportunity to see the immediate result of being beaten so badly since I was confined to a bed. I stood staring for a long time before I lifted the hem of my nightie. Angry, purple bruises covered a large portion of my abdomen. Between my face and my stomach, I looked hideous. My knees buckled and I didn’t have the strength to hold myself upright. I fell to my bottom on the bathroom floor. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I dropped my head and cried.
A minute later I heard Zane’s voice.
“Fuck,” he growled.
I felt his hand wrap around my back as he brought his head to mine. “Did you fall?” he asked.
I shook my head in my knees.
Zane wrapped his other hand under my knees and lifted me up. He carried me out of t
he bathroom and back into the bedroom. I was settled into his lap when he took a seat on the chaise.
He held me in silence a few minutes before he said, “Tell me, sweetheart.”
I burrowed my face further into his shirt.
At that moment, the doorbell rang. I felt Zane lean slightly to the side where the table was, but he never got up to go open the door.
Suddenly, he spoke.
“You’re here?” he asked.
Silence.
“Levi or Cruz will have their key if you don’t. Open up and come in. We’re upstairs. Just come up.”
I heard the phone land on the table.
Two minutes later, I heard Zane’s mom speaking as she walked into the room. “I’m sorry; I didn’t want to wake you up. Levi told me you wanted me to come by around lunchtime…oh.”
I’m guessing she just realized we weren’t sleeping. I didn’t want to be rude so I pulled my face out of Zane’s chest and looked to her. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath and a look of shock fell over her features.
“Oh, Emme,” she finally said, snapping herself out of it.
“I know, I’m hideous,” I said, looking away.
I felt Zane’s fingertips come to my jaw and gently turn my head toward his. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Em. A black eye and a couple of bruises aren’t going to change that.”
“He’s right, honey,” she said, her voice tender. She paused a moment as I brought my eyes to hers. “Zane, your father and your brothers are downstairs. Why don’t you head down there with them and give me a few minutes to make sure we don’t have any injuries that are too serious?”
“Not leaving her,” Zane said.
I turned my head back to his, started to sit up in his lap, and said, “It’s ok, Zane. I’ll be alright.”
His brows drew together and a look of confusion and concern washed over his face.
“Zane, honey, sometimes, a woman just needs another woman,” Trisha said. “She’ll be ok with me; I promise.”
Realization hit him and he stood with me still in his arms. He set me down gently in the bed, kissed the top of my head, and turned to his mom.
“She hasn’t eaten anything since dinner yesterday. Make sure she has something in her stomach before you give her any pain meds. And she’s having a lot of trouble sitting up from…” he said before he was cut off.
“Zane, did you forget what I do for a living? I’m the doctor here, honey. We’ll be alright.”
He stood before her in silence a moment. Finally, he nodded and said, “Thanks, Mom. Yell down if she needs me.”
“I will,” she answered gently.
With that, Zane walked back to the table, grabbed his phone, and walked out of the room. We both watched as he stepped out and closed the door. I sat there staring at the door for several moments afterward. When I turned my attention back to Trisha she had a smile on her face. If she ever had a doubt about it before I think she knew in that moment that she had raised an incredible man. I thought she deserved more confirmation of that so I spoke.
“He’s a saint,” I declared.
She laughed and said, “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“I would,” I maintained, my face serious. “You should be proud of him. Of all three of your boys, actually. What they did for me…I’ll never be able to thank them enough.”
“Emme, I don’t know exactly what you went through over the last few hours, but even still, the way I know my boys they won’t want thanks from you. They’ll just be happy knowing that you are safe and are healing. For me, knowing that I raised those three into the men they’ve become makes my heart swell. They have very strong feelings about the way a woman should be treated, which I attribute to their father being a hell of a role model. Trust me, honey, they already know you are grateful.”
I nodded and looked down to my lap. I looked back up at her several moments later when she had moved to sit next to me on the bed. She brought over a bunch of medical supplies and started tending to my face.
“I’ve seen a lot throughout my years as a doctor, Emme. I think my patients always opened up to me because I’m a great listener. Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked as she moved her focus from my lip to my eye.
“It’s not nice stuff,” I warned.
“Which is even more of a reason it might help to talk about it. You don’t want it to fester, Emme. And just so you know, whatever you say to me stays between us.”
“I haven’t even told Zane everything that happened yet. He knows a lot of what I went through because he had to watch it happen, but once they located me he no longer saw what happened. I’m worried how he’ll react when he knows everything.”
“My guess? He’ll respond just the way he has been…with love. Sometimes, though, it helps to talk to someone who isn’t so close to the situation. And that’s not to say that I don’t hope for you and me to grow closer the longer you and Zane are together.”
I didn’t want to burst her bubble and tell her about the fact that I was pretty sure Zane and I wouldn’t be together much longer. It was clear this morning that he was a bit fed up. Of course, I didn’t exactly have a whole lot to tell her about it since I had only seen the look this morning. Even having witnessed that, I still believed he was a good man. Maybe he was just doing the right thing right now because he had a girl who had been physically and sexually assaulted hours ago and it was in his nature to take care of someone who had been through something like that. Perhaps when he witnessed what Seth did to me it completely turned him off to me. I mean, he had to watch Seth put his hands and his mouth on me. It was probably one thing to hear that something like that had happened before you came into the picture, but to then have to witness it might have just been too much. He had kissed me on the head twice since I was found, but he hadn’t once said he loved me. He had taken such good care of me and called me his girl last night, but the simple fact remained that he never said he loved me.
My eyes welled with tears.
“Oh, God,” I cried.
Trisha’s arms came around me and she pulled me into a hug. She did her best to calm me. It took me a while, but I finally settled enough to tell her everything that had happened. She was right about one thing; she was an excellent listener. Throughout the entire story, she remained calm and continued her assessment of my injuries. She wrapped bandages around my wrists from where the shackles dug in and tore my skin. Then, she helped me lie down on my back so that she could check out my abdomen and went about her doctor business being completely professional. In that moment, despite the fact that I had a feeling this could very well be the beginning of the end of my relationship with Zane, I was grateful for his insistence that I get checked out and that his mom was up to the task. I spent the next half hour talking with her doing everything I could to avoid my horrible thoughts about the status of my relationship.
Zane
Fuck.
I hated this.
My sweet Emme may have seemed like a shy girl, but once she was comfortable with someone she never stopped talking. Now though, it was almost worse than when I first met her. She wasn’t talking much at all now. Maybe I was being selfish. No, not maybe. I knew I was being selfish. My girl had been through some ridiculously terrifying shit. She had been kidnapped and assaulted. For more than four hours she was missing and she had been fucking scared out of her mind.
We hadn’t discussed what actually happened yet; I didn’t want to press for that before she was ready to share. However, seeing how she was fighting the turmoil in her own head and not hearing her voice was pure torture.
Yes, I was selfish. I wanted her words, her uninhibited words. I didn’t just want those words, though — no, I wanted that and I wanted her breathtaking smile, her soul-warming laughter, her outrageously silly ideas, and her pure as gold heart.
As selfish as I was feeling I also knew that she needed time. I was trying my best to remain unaffected, but I
’m not so sure I was doing a great job with it. She needed my patience and I needed to figure out how to give that to her.
I had just left her alone in our bedroom with my mom only minutes after finding her sitting on the bathroom floor with her knees to her chest, crying her eyes out. I didn’t get an answer yet on what brought her to tears as my family showed up right after I asked her about it, but I intended to find out. So now, she was in our bedroom while my mom checked out her injuries. Before I made my way downstairs I pulled out my phone and called Wes.
It rang once.
“Zane — how’s Emme?” he answered.
“I don’t fucking know, Wes,” I said, my voice full of despair. “My mom is here now tending to her injuries, but she’s shattered, man.”
“Fuck.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m doing the right things for her. I’m trying, but it’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Do you think having the girls over would help?” he asked.
“I know it can’t hurt. Asked her this morning if she was up for it and she agreed. My mom is the only woman she’s been around since before that fucking bastard took her so I think having the girls over could be good for her. Prepare them, though. She’s in bad shape. I don’t know everything that happened to her yet, but she suffered serious physical assault. She’s got a lot of cuts and bruises. He sexually assaulted her, too.”
“Jesus, fuck. Was she raped?”
“I don’t know for sure, but Cruz doesn’t think so. He got there first and said he arrived to find the motherfucker jacking off while he had his hands on her. He had cut off her dress and her bra, and had her panties pulled down to her knees. From what Cruz told me last night, he believes Miller hadn’t raped her, but was about to because he brought his hands behind her thighs and told her to spread her legs so he could make her his again. Cruz, obviously, stepped in at that point.”
“Motherfucker,” Wes seethed. “Alright, I’ll give this to Luke and Stone first so they can prepare to help the girls deal with this when I deliver this news to them. We’ll try to prepare them for what they’ll see when they get there.”