by Jamie Canosa
Em obviously wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up, but something had happened today—something that had brought her there—and she needed to get it off her chest. If he let her keep it bottled up inside it would only erupt with time. He had to get her to—
The deep-throated roar of an engine broke through the silence, diverting his attention. All of the instincts that had become so deeply ingrained in him over the past few years went on high alert. His entire life had been a hands-on lesson in sensing danger, but his time on the streets had fine-tuned those skills.
A car was barreling down the street far faster than the cracked, rutted pavement should have allowed. Drive-by’s weren’t unheard of in that neighborhood, which Jay knew all too well, having witnessed the aftermath of more than one in his time at the squat. Instinctively reaching for her, Jay tugged Em close, angling his body in front of hers. The engine revved as Jay’s heart thundered in his chest. He knew damn well that if those assholes decided to open fire, there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.
There was all of this talk in the world about love being some kind of ultimate power. Fairytales of love conquering all. It was bullshit. In reality, the real world, the world they lived in, it didn’t matter how fiercely he loved Em. An idiot with a gun or a bastard with fists and foul intentions would always be waiting in the shadows. Always ready to inflict more harm than his love could ever heal.
His only chance, his only hope of protecting the truly fragile thing that love was, was to keep it as far from him as possible. In Jay’s fucked up world, the only true, undeniable power love held was the power to destroy.
Chapter Thirty-four
Em
Tires squealed around the corner, leaving black marks on the asphalt and the smell of burning rubber in the air. At first, when Jay leaned over her, she’d thought he was going to kiss her. Despite the day she’d just had, her greedy heart wanted that. More than anything. Her lips tingled in anticipation, her body bowed unconsciously into his, her hands reached for him . . . but then he’d pulled away. As the speed demon behind the wheel tore around the bend, Jay sat back beside her, leaving Em wildly confused and wanting.
Her fingers drifted up to her lips to rub away the lingering desire as she watched the shadows stretch toward them from across the street. Part of her wished those dark fingers would grab ahold of her and drag her away. Jay wasn’t going to kiss her. She was a fool. And after he learned the truth, he’d never want to kiss her again.
“I went by your uncle’s house today.”
Em turned her face away from Jay’s penetrating gaze. For one minute, she’d actually allowed herself to believe they wouldn’t have to go there. That he’d let her off the hook and not ask. She should have known better. Jay never let her hide.
“Me, too.”
“Why didn’t you call me? You didn’t have to face that alone. I would have gone with you.”
The cold concrete scraped at her backside as she shifted on her rock-hard seat. “I know you would have. That’s why I didn’t call. I needed to do it myself. I needed to know I could stand up to him. Tell them what he did to me. I know it’s too late to make a difference, but I thought . . . I thought maybe it would help Tori, somehow. Knowing she wasn’t alone.”
Em knew what would come next, but as the words left his mouth she cringed inwardly. “Did you? Talk to the police?”
She dropped her head between her arms, trying to shield herself from the waves of guilt crashing over her. “I couldn’t do it.”
Em stayed hidden even as she felt Jay’s warm hand settle on her back. “Em . . . We could have done it together. Why didn’t you let me help you?”
Anger burst so hot and fast it surprised even her. “Like you’re letting me help you?”
Jay sighed. “I deserved that.”
“No.” She folded in on herself again and that momentary anger faded away, overrun by the truth. “I deserve it. You’re right not to want me to help you. I can’t help anyone. My uncle was right about me. I am a coward.”
“No, Em. You’re—”
“Stop. Don’t say it. Please. You keep telling me I’m strong, and brave, and all of these things, but the truth is, Jay, if they were really true, if you really believed them, you wouldn’t keep trying to protect me from everything!”
His words were meant to comfort. And months ago they would have. Now they sounded like an insult. A challenge to be everything she wasn’t. A challenge she’d failed time and time again. She’d failed to protect herself, she’d failed to protect Tori, and now she was failing to protect the one person who meant more to her than life itself.
***
The house was dark when Em pulled into Ashlyn’s driveway. Harrison had worked up a sweat over the course of the day and she was going to owe her some serious gas money, but Em was pitifully gratefully not to have to face her immediately.
The clock on the microwave read nine-thirty-seven when she stepped inside and shucked off her coat. Her fingers prickled from the returning sensation after having sat numb on that cold curb for so long. She had about an hour before Ash should be home. Just enough time to whip up a sorry-I-absconded-with-your-one-and-only-vehicle-leaving-you-stranded dinner.
Searching through the cabinets, Em realized that her culinary skills were severely lacking. Growing up, her meals had always been made for her, and since moving in with Jay they hadn’t had much variety to work with. She could work miracles with a can of soup and pack of frozen vegetables, though.
Attempting something a bit more substantial, she pulled out the pork chops thawing in the fridge and read the back of the package. It didn’t seem too complicated. Ten minutes later, they were in the oven and all she had left to do was wait.
When she’d come inside, she hadn’t bothered to turn on any other lights along the way. The living room was bathed in darkness, but a faint blinking glow pulsed in the corner. Ashlyn’s laptop. Em knew that search engines could be dangerous things. Jay had warned her to stay away from them when it came to her uncle. But why? So she wouldn’t have to feel bad? Feel guilty? She should feel guilty. She deserved to feel bad.
She had been right there, less than twenty feet away from doing the right thing. But she hadn’t gone a single one. Hell, she hadn’t even opened the car door. She’d just sat there, staring at the building for far too long. Part of her expected someone to question her, ask her if she needed something, why she was there. Then she’d have no choice. She’d have to tell them everything. But they didn’t. She watched people come and go from that building—some in uniform, some not—for over an hour. Not one of them even looked at her twice. Excuses. It was all just excuses. The truth was she had no one to blame for her failures—and their consequences—but herself.
Firing up the computer, Em pulled up a search menu and typed in her uncle’s name and hometown. With an unsteady finger, she pressed Enter and watched the screen fill with search results. The first one included an image. She hovered for a moment and then click on it before she could talk herself out of it.
It was a mug shot. Not exactly his finest hour, but he didn’t look like some kind of terrorist. He looked exactly as she remembered him. The man who had come to her elementary school concerts, watched her play soccer and little league, helped her with her homework. He had lost some weight—not that he couldn’t afford to—and his receding hairline had begun to thin out. The graying around his temples would have made most men look old, but somehow it just managed to make him look almost distinguished. She imagined it probably would have served him well at work.
The orange jumpsuit he wore didn’t have quite the effect a business suit might have, but still, he looked . . . like a man. And that’s what he was. Flesh and bone. And behind bars. So, what did she have to fear from him? Why was the knowledge that he was locked up and she was unlikely to ever see him again not enough? Why did she continue to allow that man, glowering at her from the pixelly image on the computer screen, to maintain such a hold
over her?
He had never been fond of confrontation. When Jay had arrived to take her away, he hadn’t even tried to stop her. Not really. And she knew he wouldn’t. It was why he chose young girls to prey on. They weren’t likely to fight back. But she wasn’t that scared little girl anymore. There were no more excuses. She was what she was. Maybe being a coward was hereditary.
Whether he had made her that way, or she was always destined to be one, there was no denying the fact. She would always surrender to that voice telling her she couldn’t do it, that she wasn’t strong enough, brave enough. She was a useless coward and there was no escaping it. There was no use dreaming about a better version of herself. No use allowing Jay to fill her head with pretty little lies. She was stuck with herself, just the way she was.
A sharp buzz filled the quiet of the house, announcing that dinner was ready. Em powered down the laptop and set it back on the end table where she’d found it. Surprisingly, the meat actually smelled good, but the thought of eating rolled Em’s stomach. Setting it on a plate with a side of steamed vegetables, she stuck it in the microwave and jotted down a note for Ash, explaining that it was there, that she was sorry for taking off, and that she had gone to bed.
Dragging herself down the hallway, she pulled on a pair of pale blue sweats and a tee shirt before crawling into bed just as the front door opened. Voices filled the house and Em pulled a pillow over her head. She’d deal with the fallout tomorrow. Maybe.
Not long after the voices died down, there was a soft knock on her door.
“Em?” Ashlyn sounded concerned—not at all angry—and that just made her feel worse. “Are you awake?”
Guilt chewed at her gut, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Not yet. Ashlyn gave up when she heard the microwave ding. The TV buzzed in the living room and Em laid there, letting the hum fill her head, overpower the voices for a minute, and lull her to sleep.
***
Em had promised herself that she would get up and face the world the next day. She’d lied.
The sunlight stung her eyes and she curled up in a ball, hugging her knees to her chest as Ashlyn banged on the door.
“Em? Talk to me.”
Cradling her head in her arms, Em kept quiet. Her friend deserved better, but all she ever did was let people down. Why should Ashlyn be any different?
“Em? Please? Come on.”
Rolling on her stomach, she smashed her face in the pillow. The door was locked. All she had to do was wait. Wait until Ashlyn realized she wasn’t worth the effort and gave up trying. Ash kept it up for a solid fifteen minutes, but the silence that followed was golden.
All Em wanted was to stay away from everyone. If she only had herself, then she couldn’t disappoint anyone else. Out there, the world was full of coarse surfaces and sharp angles. But in that bed she was surrounded by softness and comfort. Things she so desperately craved and clung to.
Sleep became her only reprieve. The nightmares favorable to the guilt and pain that consumed her when she was awake. Thoughts of Jay and Tori plagued her mind relentlessly. Her failures stacking up, one on top of the next, into an unstable pile that threatened to crush her with one wrong move. So, she stayed still. Very still. Slipping in and out of consciousness.
Em felt herself plummeting but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she got as far away from the voice as she could. Even if the only way to go was down. Sometimes she would wake to find it light, others dark. She never cared to know what time it was, or what day. The only time she left that room at all was to use the bathroom and even that was strategically planned to avoid Ashlyn at all costs.
At some point, she had given up her daily attempts to talk Em out of bed. Deep down, Em knew she couldn’t stay holed up in her guest room indefinitely, but she had yet to find another option. The world was better off without her in it, but she hadn’t the courage to remove herself permanently. Can’t even do that right.
She was just so tired. So damn tired of it all. Of fighting, and failing, again and again.
Now and then, thoughts of Jay would sneak up on her, and the tears would come again. It seemed she never ran out of the damn things. She missed him. More than anything, she missed being with him, the feel of his arms around her, his scent, the sound of his voice. So selfish. Their entire relationship had been give-and-take, in that he would give and she would take. What had she ever done for him? Even now, he was in danger and where was she? Hiding under her blankets.
She was a failure. She hated herself. Who she had become. What she had done—and failed to do.
Pain expanded in Em’s chest until she couldn’t take the pressure anymore. Her eyes were raw and tender, and stung with each salty tear that escaped. Her cheeks felt chapped from the relentless flow. She didn’t even know when she was crying, anymore. The tears just seemed to come and go in waves. Every time she thought she’d run out, they’d start all over again. Her body’s way of trying to relieve some of that pressure. It didn’t work. There was no escaping it. No way to turn it off. To make it stop. She felt like her heart would explode from it.
Em lingered on the cusp of surrendering to unconsciousness, grateful for the break, when a new voice cut through the bedroom door.
“Em?” What was Mason doing there? “Em, Ash has given me permission to bust this damn thing down if you don’t open it. I’d really rather not have to.”
Em stared at the back of the door. Would he really break it down? Could he?
“Em?” He was silent and then she heard him sigh. “All right, fine. You’d better stand back because I’m coming in.”
Before she could even react to those words, a loud crack sounded as his foot collided with the door. Shit, he was going to break it down. And he could. She couldn’t let him do that to Ashlyn’s house.
“Wait!” Her voice was hoarse from tears and disuse. “I’m coming.”
Her legs felt like jelly as she dragged herself across the room. She must have looked like a mess, but she couldn’t find it in herself to really care. When she pulled open the door, Mason and Ashlyn stood side by side in the hallway.
Just that small effort exhausted her and she crawled back into bed without a word to either of them.
“Em.” Ashlyn stepped forward, but Mason stopped her with a hand on her arm.
They exchanged a look Em couldn’t begin to understand and then Mason came inside alone, shutting the door behind him.
“Em?” He sat at the foot of the bed. “What’s going on? Ashlyn called me.”
“She called you?” Her throat was sore.
“She’s worried about you. Frankly, so am I. She said you won’t come out of this room. You won’t talk to her. You’re not even eating. We just want to help, Em.”
Em sighed. They were her friends. She couldn’t have friends like them—good, caring friends—and expect them to let her keep those walls up while she was hurting behind them.
“I know I screwed up with you. And you have no idea how sorry I am about that. But . . . will you talk to me?”
Exhausted tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t.”
“It’s about him, though, isn’t it?”
For a brief moment Em thought Ashlyn had told him about more than just her self-exile from the world, and the betrayal bit deep before she realized it wasn’t him Mason was talking about. It was Jay.
“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
“I always will be. I don’t know how to stop. I’m so sorry, Mason. I never should have . . .” Em took a deep breath, preparing to admit the ugly truth, “used you like that.”
“Hey. Em.” Mason was shaking his head at her, but he didn’t look angry or upset like she’d expected. “I’m not an idiot. I knew from the start I wasn’t the one you really wanted. All I hoped for was a chance, and you gave me that. So, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I just hope he realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is before he hurts you any more.”
She didn’t know h
ow to respond to that other than to allow the tears that had been building in her eyes to slip down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve these kinds of people in her life.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Mason scooted closer and she didn’t fight it when he gathered her in his arms. “Shh. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be all right. But you can’t lock yourself away like this. I know things may seem hard right now, but you can’t give up on the rest of us. We still care about you. We’re not going to let you waste away in here. So, up you go.”
Before Em knew what was happening, Mason had her on her feet and headed for the door. He handed over control to Ashlyn in the hallway, who steered her into the bathroom.
“Do you need my help with this or not? Because you are taking a shower. You’re starting to stink up my guest room, girl.”
“Ashlyn, I—”
“I’m messing with you. Not about the shower, though. I’ll throw you in there fully clothed if I have to. And then you’re going to eat the spectacular breakfast I slaved over for you so hurry up before it gets cold.”
The hot water did wonders for Em’s body—inside and out—rinsing away the grime and soothing the aches. If she’d known it would feel that good, she would have locked herself in the bathroom instead of the bedroom.