Razorblade Kisses

by R. L. Griffin

  “Okay,” Rachel agreed and started moving around, righting chairs and other things in the den.

  Emery just stood there, staring at them putting the condo back together.

  “Em! Go get packed, we have to go!” Rachel yelled.

  “Wait, what?”

  “He found you,” Rachel said slowly. “We’re getting you out of here. Derrick has you set up as someone else. Savannah. You like Savannah, right?” Rachel was flailing her arms about as she was talking and Emery didn’t know why, but it made her laugh, hysterically. Rachel glared at her. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

  Emery didn’t know why she was laughing or why she couldn’t stop. She shook her head and tears leaked from her eyes.

  “She’s crazy,” Rachel complained, looking to Derrick, who’d put the den back together and was now closing cabinet doors in the kitchen.

  “Emery, get your shit together.” Derrick’s eyes pinned her to the wall and she was frozen. “I know this is hard, but you have to go. You don’t want him to know where you are, do you?”

  Derrick’s voice, calm and soothing, pulled through her hysteria instantly and she ran into her room. Emery grabbed her suitcase, throwing it on the bed. She started shoving everything she could see in the suitcase without bothering to fold it.

  “They didn’t touch Noah’s room, so we’re good to go when you’re ready,” Rachel called as she entered the room and took Emery in; tears were running down her face, no longer from hysterics. “It’ll be okay, Em.”

  “No, it won’t, Rachel. It won’t ever be okay, and I think you know that.” Emery pulled another bag out and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She wasn’t mad at Rachel and she hated taking it out on her. Within ten minutes her entire world had changed. She began slamming things into her bag again and then noticed the two towels on the floor. Noah.

  Her heart cracked and anything that’d been left inside poured out onto the tile floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Survivor

  Emery lay in the back of the enormous SUV that Derrick was driving. All of her things—well, not all of them, but what they’d packed—were stuffed in every crevice of the vehicle. Her eyes were closed and she was willing herself to fall asleep, but her sunburn from earlier in the day was making it impossible.

  “Is she asleep?” Rachel asked softly.

  “I guess,” Derrick answered, mirroring her tone.

  “I hope she’s okay. She’d been doing really well. Her and Noah got along really well and were becoming tight. I just hate that she has to start over, and all by herself.” Rachel gazed back at Emery.

  “Babe, she’s running. That’s what you do when you run; you can’t be comfortable, ever. Once you get comfortable, you’re done. She’s always going to be running, and by herself. It probably wasn’t a good idea to have her stay with Noah. She needs to be by herself so that no one really knows her or misses her when she disappears again.”

  A strangled sound escaped Rachel’s lips. “That sounds so…horrible…and she’s so fragile. I just wanted to make everything better for her. I feel like this life is just as bad.”

  Derrick sighed and reached over, touching Rachel’s hand. “But you are. You’re protecting her from the one person who destroyed her and she loves you for it. She’s not mad at you, if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s sad. She’s mad because she was happy and she didn’t think she could be happy. Now all that is gone. She’s miserable because she thought she’d made a life for herself in Nashville and now she’ll have to start over. She’s spooked because of the condo and that guy touching her. If he would’ve grabbed her left arm, we would’ve been too late. He would’ve brought her back to Atlanta, or worse.”

  Emery cringed internally, acknowledging the truth of Derrick’s words. What would that guy have done with her if he would’ve seen her arm, the one with the marks that would have let him know she was Emery? After years of being away, what would he do to her? She’d always be running from him and what he did to her. Tears threatened her and she squeezed her eyes tighter, but that just forced more tears to fall and run down her cheeks. Derrick was right; she’d allowed herself to be happy and complacent. Emery promised herself she wouldn’t do that again. She couldn’t do that again. Noah was going to hate her. Noah. His easy smile and perfect face appeared behind her lids. He was goodness and she’d known she couldn’t have him, but she hoped anyway. Hope wasn’t for her. She shouldn’t hope…for anything.

  “She was happy…” Rachel said with a sigh.

  “She’ll get through it,” Derrick replied firmly. “You see fragile, I see a survivor. She may not be loud or hostile, but she survived what, three years of that guy raping her? And look—she’s capable of being normal.”

  “And now he’s taken that from her again. When will he stop taking from her, Derrick?”

  “I doubt he ever will. That’s what these guys do, they take. They exert their power and dominance any way they can. They get off on it.”

  Emery tuned out the rest of their conversation and focused on what she’d done before she’d left. While Rachel and Derrick were putting everything in the SUV, she’d run back to Noah’s room. She scribbled out a note on a pad and put it under his pillow. Then she grabbed one of his jerseys and put it in her purse. That way she’d always have a little piece of him with her, no matter what.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  He Takes Everything

  Derrick had spoken with the landlord of a house that had been turned into a duplex on Lorch Street and they were going to look at the place so that she could rent it. It was Sunday, October 26. She would remember this day for the rest of her life. It was the first day of her new life. She hadn’t seen Noah since early Saturday morning and she felt like she was in mourning. Whatever it was they had was over because of Phil. She grieved for her life in Nashville. Surprisingly enough, she mourned Emily Sanders. Emily had been happy and somewhat normal. She feared that she’d never have that again.

  He’d taken Noah from her. He’d taken everything.

  She’d been to Savannah several times when she was younger for gymnastics meets, but she would have to learn her way around. It was a pretty city with a rich history and gorgeous buildings. They passed Forsyth Park, went four more blocks, and then took a left. Derrick pulled the SUV into a parking spot on the side of the road. She blinked at the street; it was gorgeous. Historic homes peppered the tree-lined road, the Spanish moss blanketing the trees and providing a sense of protection and cover. She took it in without feeling. Numb. She just wanted to be numb.

  “Emery,” Rachel called from outside of the vehicle.

  Emery hadn’t even realized they’d gotten out of the SUV. “Sorry,” she muttered as she opened the door.

  “Emma,” Derrick said to them both. “You’re Emma Simpson now. Okay?” His voice was stern, but not without concern.

  Emery nodded, feeling depleted in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d lived in Atlanta. “How do I know I’ll be safe here? In Savannah?”

  As Derrick led them to the house, his broad shoulders rose in a shrug. “You don’t.” His eyes avoided Emery’s, but found Rachel’s.

  Rachel grabbed Emery’s hand and they walked to the porch where a man was standing. He was wearing golfing attire and looked somewhat irritated they’d interrupted his game.

  “Thank you so much for meeting with us, Jerry,” Derrick said smoothly and shook the landlord’s hand. Derrick’s tattoos were covered and he’d put on chinos with a blue sweater that showed off his broad shoulders, hard biceps, and matched his eyes perfectly.

  Jerry scanned all their faces. “So who will be the one staying here?”

  “Me,” Emery said, raising her hand a little.

  “Okay. If you like it I’ll need the first and last months’ rent and your ID so that I can get everything together,” he said tersely and opened the door to the house itself.

  It opened to a hallway that had a door on t
he left that had the letter A made out of iron on it. Then he walked up the stairs to a door that read B in the same iron script. The floors were dark wood, the walls a creamy taupe, and the entire place had a rustic look that was in direct contradiction to the kitchen’s sterile stainless steel counters.

  Once he opened the door, he allowed them to pass into the open floor plan apartment. “Take a look around. I’ll be waiting out front.”

  “Thank you,” Derrick said.

  “Oh,” he started walking back down the stairs, “there’s a back balcony too. So don’t forget to look out there.”

  “Em, this is amazing.” Rachel ran her hand over the stainless steel countertops that were the focus of the newly remodeled kitchen.

  The main room ran the entire length of the house, with the bedroom on the left side. Rachel walked into the bedroom a couple of steps and she found a walk-in closet, then the bathroom.

  “Come see this bathroom!” Rachel called.

  Emery followed Rachel in a daze. She stepped into the doorway and they rubbed shoulders. The bathroom looked like a stark white locker room. As she walked in, she glanced around the expansive tile room. There was a trough sink against the wall on the right, with space on the side for toiletries. In the mirror, she took in her appearance, shaking off the bewildered look of the person staring back at her. She didn’t want the landlord to think he was renting the place to a crazy person.

  “Look at this bathroom, Derrick.” Rachel opened the glass door that separated the rest of the room from the sink. There was a back door, which Emery opened to find a toilet and a bidet.

  “Who has one of these?” she asked herself.

  Derrick walked into the room and peered over her shoulder. “Nice, a bidet,” he commented.

  “There are like, fourteen different shower heads in here.” Rachel’s voice echoed as she stood in a room entirely made of tile and glass. There was a drain in the middle of the room.

  “Holy shit, this is awesome.” Derrick smiled. “Emma, when we come visit, could Rachel and I pay for you to stay at a hotel?”

  “Gross,” Emery muttered, but noticed he was using her new name. She looked at the bathtub built into the back wall underneath a waterfall showerhead. “It’s so white.”

  “It’s amazing,” Rachel gushed. “If you don’t want to live here, I will.”

  Emery looked at Rachel. “Can I even afford this?”

  “Yep. We can pay for the entire year in cash.”

  Emery was shocked. She hadn’t been keeping track of all the money.

  “Probably don’t want to do that, babe.” Derrick smacked Rachel’s ass as he stalked out of the bathroom and back into the main room.

  Emery grabbed her friend’s hands. “Rachel, I don’t know if I can do this again.”

  “I know, Emery, but you have to.”

  They walked to the back of the bedroom, still holding hands, and gazed out the window. An old lady played fetch in the backyard with her very tiny dog.

  “I guess that’s your neighbor,” Rachel commented, standing close to the bay window.

  “Rachel, I’m serious. I don’t know…” Emery moved closer so their sides were touching.

  “Em, you can’t give up,” Rachel said softly, squeezing her hand.

  They continued to stare out the window at the lady throwing a small ball for her dog. Back and forth, back and forth. It was like the dog never got bored.

  Emery sighed. “I’m not, but when I left Atlanta it was because I had nowhere else to go. With Noah, I don’t…” Emery ran her hand through her hair. She had begun to feel, but what worried her was what she didn’t feel when Noah had told her he loved her. “I…I know you didn’t think he was good for me, but he told me he loved me, Rachel. We had sex last night and I just don’t know if I can walk away from the one person who started making me feel like a real person, or made me start feeling anything…”

  “WHAT???!!!!!!!!” Rachel pounced on Emery, knocking her to the ground. “Why are you just now telling me this?”

  Emery chuckled despite herself. “Well, we’ve been a little busy.”

  “Are you okay? Was it okay? I mean…no. I don’t want to know what you did with Noah,” she commented, shivering, “but you know what I mean. Did you enjoy it?”

  “He’s amazing and he loves me and I just left…like he meant nothing to me.”

  “Oh.” Rachel rolled off Emery, just realizing what Emery was saying. “I get it.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him. He…”

  “Don’t say another word. I’ll take care of everything.” Rachel smiled. “I’m happy for you, Emery, but you can’t go back. He’ll get over it. I promise.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll get over it, but I’m not sure I want him to. I don’t know if I’ll get over it. I really don’t want him to think that I left because I wanted to, you know?”

  “I know.” They both lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Emery closed her hand around Rachel’s. “This ceiling is sort of awesome.”

  “It’s amazing,” Emery agreed. She looked up and took in the hammered tin ceiling. It was different and would give her something to focus on when she couldn’t sleep; when she didn’t want to sleep.

  “What are y’all doing?” Derrick yelled from the other room. “Come on, let’s grab this place so we can move you in a soon as possible. I gotta get back to Atlanta.”

  “Okay,” Rachel agreed, but stayed on the floor.

  Emery sat up and faced Rachel. “I’m Emma Simpson.”

  “You’re Emma Simpson.” Rachel nodded and winked. “Emma Simpson is a survivor.”

  “Emma Simpson sucks.”

  Emery, Rachel, and Derrick sat at a café on River Street the next morning. The landlord had okayed her moving in immediately due to the cash deposit she gave him. They were grabbing a quick bite before moving her paltry belongings into the new apartment. Rachel had already ordered furniture to be delivered within the next few days, but she’d be sleeping on the floor until then.

  “What’s going to happen to my Toyota?”

  Derrick looked up from his eggs Benedict, his eyes piercing Emery. “I got it covered,” he answered simply.

  “But…” Emery didn’t want him to take care of it.

  “Emery, its fine. It was a piece of shit anyway.” Rachel laughed. “Get a different one.”

  “Emma,” Derrick reminded her.

  “Em…I just can’t say it,” Rachel pouted.

  Derrick motioned to Emery with his fork. “Then just call her Em and be done with it.”

  “But…Noah helped me buy it.” Emery’s voice cracked with a longing she had no idea she could feel.

  Rachel examined her nails and Derrick cleared his throat.

  “Can’t bring it down here, Emma, it’s too risky.” Pity was evident on his face and she had to look away.

  “Let’s talk about what kind of car you want. If you could have any car, what would it be?” Rachel asked with fake enthusiasm.

  “I want that fucking car. That’s the car I would want,” Emery said stubbornly and took a gulp of her Bloody Mary.

  “Em…come on. You know what Derrick said is true. You’ll have to get another one. We’ll go help you buy it before we leave.”

  “Emma,” Derrick cleared his throat and looked around the restaurant, “I don’t want to tell you this, but I think it will make you understand the situation. My family is involved in things that need a lot of…legal attention.” He smiled at her with a look that said, “What are you going do?” Rachel took his hand. “One of the things I do is keep a handle on the majority of private investigators in the metro area.”

  “Excuse me? What?” Emery had always known that Derrick was shady, but had no idea he was from a family with those sorts of legal needs.

  “Doesn’t matter…” He waved off her question and then pulled his phone out and looked at something on the calendar. “So, I had all of my people make sure I knew if Phil was looking for you,
and when he did, we fed him inaccurate information. That’s why I was so confused when someone found you. I had people call around and he didn’t use anyone out of Atlanta, so that’s how he got to you.”

  Emery’s eyes were wide with disbelief. Rachel was still looking at her hands.

  “I have a handle on everything, but we can’t risk getting your Toyota. Okay?” His eyes were soft with understanding, but he was adamant.

  “I hate this. I hate what he has taken, what he continues to take from me,” she said boldly, resigned as she looked down at her waffle, no longer hungry.

  Derrick exhaled. “Look, Em, I know this is hard, but the only alternative is to go back to Atlanta. Do you want to do that?”

  His question didn’t have an edge to it, it was an honest question. Like if that’s what she wanted, he’d drive her back to Atlanta. That was one of the things she really liked about Derrick. There wasn’t any fluff, he was just blunt. He cared for her, it was clear, but he didn’t pull any punches.

  “I…I don’t know,” she answered.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, Emma,” Rachel made the name “Emma” sound like a diagnosis she didn’t like. “You are seriously not going to go back. We’ve done all this for you, to get you away from that bastard. You will not go back.”

  “I just don’t see how this all ends,” she said weakly.

  “Em,” Derrick’s voice was soft and gentle, like he was talking to a child, “if you want to go back, we will get in the car now. What that means is that you will have to tell your mother, the police, and Phil why you left. Do you want to do that? That’s the question you need to answer. Are you ready to tell everyone what he did to you?”

  A memory of his stubble brushing the back of her neck when he raped her seared through her mind and she tried not to vomit. Emery jumped from the table and ran to the restroom. She was ashamed. Why couldn’t she face it now? It’d been almost two and a half years since she’d left. She wasn’t a child anymore.

  Rachel opened the bathroom door and leaned against it. “I’m sorry,” she said.