My mom put me in that hellhole, my dads bought me, and I’m back to square one not knowing where or how I fit in this world, this place they brought me. “Are you going to talk to me?” I can picture her getting mad as hell.
“No.” I’m angrier. She can practice her therapy and speeches on others. “For someone who deals in black and white, how come this doesn’t come as a mark of immorality? Wrong? Shady as fuck?”
Now it’s her turn to be silent. Think about that, Emma Nichols. She’s always told me what I should do, who to defend; yet, she stands here defending an act that is illegal. I shake my head and walk past her, leaving her standing there for the second time in less than an hour. I’m becoming what I swore I’d never be to her . . . absent.
Instead of going home and talking to my parents, instead of getting in my truck and heading back to campus or a hotel until I cool off . . . I make a phone call that sling shots my life to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emma
I thought we were free from the losers that wreaked havoc for years; they were in our past. Seeing them pull up to his house after our biggest fight and watching him get in the truck with them makes me sick. I hurry to the door and try to stop the catastrophe this will end in. I intercept him as he is shutting the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Going out with friends.” His disdain for me is evident in his tone. Snide, condescending, and one that sends panic through me.
“These are your friends?”
“I see Emma is still a bitch. You haven’t fucked that out of her?” Seth leers at me from the driver’s side. I back up like I’ve been slapped when William doesn’t stop the insults. It’s all the space he needs to slam the door, refusing to meet my gaze.
“You’ll regret this. Don’t do anything stupid,” I say loud enough so he can hear it through the glass.
“Stupid? I think the last four years have put me in that category.” He doesn’t look at me as he voices those words that slice through me.
Four years of us dating.
Four years of embracing our love and one another.
Four years destroyed in this one moment.
I’m rooted to the driveway, watching the boy I love destroy everything. Numb, oblivious to what’s happening. Brett leads me into the living room, my mom consoling James. “Emma, breathe baby. What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t good.” The sinking feeling in my stomach shoots daggers through my limbs.
“He’ll cool down. It was all a shock to him.” I shake my head. They don’t understand.
“He left with them, he told me I was a mistake.” I sink into the chair, stare at my mom. Her confusion and worry warring with my heartache.
“I’m sure he’s blowing off steam.” My mom tries to see the logical side of things.
“Not with them. They’re dangerous.” I drop my head. “They tormented him, said things I can’t repeat. He’s going to regret this.” Brett jumps up and starts pacing.
“What do you mean, Emma?”
I can’t repeat the names. I can’t hurt them. “It was bad. They don’t like people who are different from them. There have been rumors of them strong arming people to get their way. He’s spent the last three years avoiding them, which is why Blake came here last summer…to run interference.”
“Shit. He’s smarter than that. He won’t do anything stupid,” James repeats over and over, not able to convince us.
We sit in silence, waiting for the inevitable. My phone shrills, and I answer before it’s done ringing. “Emma?”
I pull it from my ear and look at the caller ID. “Blake?”
“It’s me. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t talk. Will’s gone off the rails.”
“That’s why I’m calling. He called me, his words slurred, jumbled. He wasn’t making sense. He said something about the railroad tracks, and his life is over.”
I clutch my stomach. “Oh God.”
“Emma, he was crying. I’m freaking here. Do I need to head there?”
“Yes. I don’t know what’s going to happen but just get here.” I hang up. “He’s at the railroad tracks. Blake said he sounded bad.” Brett grabs his keys, and I’m on his heels.
“Brett, let me go. Your temper can run hot like his.” James takes his keys, and I follow him to the car.
“Emma, stay here!” My mom calls from the door.
“No.” I’m going with or without her consent. This is a crossroads and I want him to choose his path with all his options present. I slide in the car, and we ride in silence. As we pull up to the railroad tracks, I don’t see him. Everyone else is here and not happy to see us.
I jump out, and James grabs my wrist. “Stay here.” His eyes scan the crowd; we’ve garnered some attention. Brian and Seth come to the front of the car, sneering and drunk.
James raises himself from the car. “Do you know where my son is?” I’ll give him credit. I want to disappear, shrink down in my seat from their menacing glares, but he holds his own.
“Isn’t that cute, Seth. The fairy came looking for the little immigrant he purchased. I thought slavery was abolished?”
I snap my head up glaring at them and open my door. “Stay there, Emma.” James’s voice is controlled and quiet.
“Yeah, Emma. Stay there. We’re just getting started.” Brian pulls a metal pole from his back pocket, and I bite back a scream. I need to create a diversion, get James in the car so we can escape.
I ignore the warnings and stand. “Where is he?”
“He left. He spilled the whole story and said he was leaving. Heading out of town, he was done with it all. His scholarship, football, and you,” Seth taunts. “I’m okay with him getting rid of you but not football. We have one year left, and we are championship bound. This screws my plans of going pro. I told him that. But good ole Willy boy didn’t want to hear me. We warned him what would happen, he didn’t care. Our luck changed when Daddy dearest, and the whore pulled up.” He’s vile. There is something wrong with him, and I’m afraid.
“James, let’s go.” During my interaction with Seth I didn’t notice Brian move, and now he’s close enough, blocking me in. He reaches up and grabs my hair yanking me to him. I scream and James steps closer to me. “Go, James.” I see the look they give him. He’s their target; I’m just the pawn.
He keeps coming towards me, and Brian throws me to the ground lunging for James. I’m crawling to the scuffle when I’m kicked in the stomach. My body screams in protest, the air knocked from my lungs. I’m blocked from getting to James. The pole smashed over his body, the fists, the kicks, and the screams. I can’t help. I remember my phone and dial 9-1-1 screaming for help.
The noise startles them and when they realize what I’ve done they scatter. Brian steps in front of me, grabbing my chin, crushing the bone under his fingers with the force he’s using. “Not a word, bitch.” As if that would happen. One push and I’m back on the ground. Cars peel out of the parking lot, dust and rocks thrown at me, but I make my way to James. He isn’t moving; no noise coming from him.
Blood.
Bones.
Life seeping out of him. I don’t want to move him, but I need to stop the bleeding. I pull my shirt off, press it against the gash splitting his head. I rock back and forth, holding his wound and his hand, crying and praying that help comes before it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty
William
Leaving with them was stupid. It did nothing to ease my pain; it was like dousing me in gasoline and feeding the burn inside me. I drank from the glass jar they handed me, chugged it, and opened my fucking mouth. I let it all pour out. I couldn’t stop myself. The alcohol lessened my resistance, and I let everything fade, forgot whom I was with. Lapse in judgment.
I made a plan through all the word vomit. I was quitting school, going to Honduras, and finding the truth. I am going to seek answers I refused to get from my parents. Brian and Seth started their slurs
, their threats, and I’d had enough. I told them to fuck off, jumped from a moving vehicle, and stumbled down the tracks. No destination in mind, no semblance of reality gripping me. I called Blake. I knew he’d tell me what to do.
I don’t remember the conversation with him, and in this haze, I have no damn clue where I’m at. I don’t know if I went north, south, east, or west. I’m floating in the lost souls, allowing my demons to collect me. I’m done fighting it.
I set her free; rid her of the filth I represent. I’d leave in the morning; alleviate the burden I was to my parents. I wonder if they can get a refund. I laugh at that thought. I can imagine them going to the government, stating their complaint about a defective product.
Sirens wail to my left, the wind blows to my right, I stare straight ahead. Staring into the nightfall, wanting some kind of sign. Where should I go? Where do I begin sorting through this mess?
My ass starts moving, and I swat it. My phone. I grab it and answer. “Ell—o.”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“Blake?” I laugh.
“Fuck. Where are you?”
“Dunno.” I sway.
“Sober the fuck up. Call your dad, something’s happened to Pops.” I’m not following this conversation.
“Huh?”
“Jesus. I’m still hours from you, but I’m heading your way. Call your dad. Please.”
“Okay.” I shrug my shoulders forgetting he can’t see me.
“William, this is serious. Don’t move. Call him.” He’s pissy I think as I hear the dial tone.
I scroll my phone, forgetting who I’m looking for. Oh, Dad. Sure. He’ll be thrilled to hear from me. His investment is a fuck-up. I press send and wait.
“Hello,” it’s a girl’s voice. This can’t be the right number. “William, it’s Phoebe.”
“Hey!” Damn, that was loud.
“Can you tell me where you are? I’m sending Luke to get you.”
“I see trees. Oh, and tracks.” I turn in circles and fall on my ass.
“Anything else?”
“Oh, the abandoned railroad cars are here.” I hear her sighing and speaking to someone.
“Don’t leave that spot. Luke just left to come get you.”
“K.” I sit down and don’t remember ending the call. Dropping my head in my hands the fatigue hits me. It’s been a long ass day. Headlights shine over me, and I hear the car door slam.
“How drunk are you?” His voice is hard. It’s not a damn crime, I’m twenty-one.
I stare at him. I see the anger but something else. “It’s easing up.”
He shoves a coffee in my hand. “Drink this and get the fuck in the car.”
“Whoa.” I hold my hands up. “I don’t need a ride. I can walk home.”
“We aren’t going home. We’re going to the hospital where James is fighting for his life and my daughter is getting x-rayed for possible broken ribs.” I’m sober. Nothing is numb; I feel every one of those words.
“What?”
“Get in the car.” I do. “James and Emma went looking for you. They didn’t find you, but according to Emma they found the boys you were with.”
“Brian and Seth?”
“Yes.” I grab at my hair, my stomach rolling. “I know you’ve had a rough few hours, but I swear if anything happens to Emma, you’ll never see her again.”
I nod. I drink the coffee as fast as I can, letting the liquid burn my tongue and turn to sludge in my stomach. They followed through with their threats. Two people I love are hurt because of my hissy fit.
They have to be okay.
They have to forgive me.
Brian and Seth . . . they have to pay.
It’s been hours. Emma is still in the Emergency Room, but she will be fine. Bruised and shaken up, but physically fine. James is through surgery, still unconscious but expected to make a full recovery. His arm had to be pinned, the break severe. He has stitches in several places, the most severe his head. Brett’s been pacing the waiting room and reassuring me. I don’t deserve his forgiveness. I’ve apologized a million times, but he says I don’t need to do that; it’s not my fault. But, it is. I didn’t do anything for years, and all the lies, the threats, the evil have all merged and pulled us under.
I stand to get everyone drinks, the coffee keeping us all alert until we can go see James. Emma comes through the door with Luke, and I stop. Her face is streaked red, a few cuts. But her eyes, they look through me. She’s leaning against Luke, holding her mid-section, and I see red. I’m ready to kill them for touching her.
“Ems.” I rush to her. She flinches, and my heart sinks. She can’t be afraid of me. I’d never hurt her. But I did. My words do more damage than anyone’s fists.
“How’s James?” Luke asks.
“Stable.”
“I’m going to be right here, baby girl.” Luke untangles himself from her and nods to a chair a few feet away.
“You want to sit?” I reach for her, ready to help if she needs it.
“No.” Her voice is clipped, her eyes vacant.
“Ems.” I have no idea what to say. “Talk to me.”
She continues her blank stare, and I’m frozen, waiting for any sign my girl is still in there. That this didn’t change her. This didn’t destroy her.
It comes, but not in a way we’ll ever recover from.
Chapter Thirty-One
Emma
My lips curl in disgust as I remember the taunts and jeers that were screamed as I watched helplessly. Each fist, each blow, each kick . . . a constant loop in my head. “You got in the car with those people. Whatever you did set this in motion.”
“Em, please. Don’t do this. I can’t stand to see you look at me like that. I swear I didn’t know what they were going to do.”
“For years, you’ve let them say those hateful things, turned a blind eye to their hatred and that makes you no better than them. They are your parents. They raised you. No matter the circumstances surrounding it. They loved you. Provided for you. Now one of them is fighting for his life . . . being punished for what? Loving another human being?”
“I know.” His head hangs, his shoulders slump. “I didn’t know.” His voice strained and trembling, I concentrate to hear.
“Maybe you didn’t know what they were planning, but you damn sure knew what they were capable of.” I’m sweating with the heat coursing through my body. I don’t know this person. All the years spent with him, loving him . . . down the drain in one senseless act. I warned him years ago, begged him to stop being the weak person he was becoming, but his damned desire to fit in, to play football won. His moral compass was so fucking skewed, and for what? “I don’t know who you’ve become. I want the boy who took me fishing, the boy who taught me how to ride a four-wheeler, and the boy whose heart was bigger than his need to fit in. God, how I want that boy . . . but he’s gone.”
His hand darts out quickly grabbing my wrist. “Don’t say that. Please, I’m here. I’m still that boy. I’ll do whatever to prove that.” His voice is hoarse, choking in pain. I see it all over his face, but I can’t be swayed by the falsehoods he believes. He may not believe the words, the actions that happened tonight, but I can’t stop the disappointment I feel in him.
Not again.
“No, you aren’t like them. In some ways, you’re worse. They are uneducated bigots. You . . . you grew up in a home with love, trust, patience. You had it all and because it was different from what they knew, what they believed you allowed them to tarnish it and refused to defend it. I don’t care if they would have listened. You took a love that a parent gives unconditionally, and you turned it ugly. They didn’t set conditions on their love for you or each other, but you had a list of them. I don’t have words for that. I don’t know you anymore, and I wonder if I ever did.”
“Em, you don’t know what it’s like. You dance to your own music. I can’t do that. I’ve tried to distance myself, and I had. Until tonight.” I won’t be sway
ed by his pleading tone, the unshed tears shining in his beautiful, soulful eyes.
“No, William. Don’t use that excuse on me. Is your family different? Sure, if you want to label it, but that’s the issue . . . labels. Labels on everything. Love, social status, clothes . . . and friendship. I labeled you my best friend, but in truth, you are a stranger. And now that I know the truth, you are the last person I’d ever be friends with.”
I see the flash of anger in his eyes. “It’s so easy for you, Emma. Daughter of Lucas and Phoebe, their love defied all odds, you were the miracle child born to two loving parents who wanted you. Yeah, you understand everything I’m going through. Everything I dealt with is foreign to you, so don’t stand here pretending to understand.” That stings. I’ve had it easy, I’ve taken it for granted, but the violence I witnessed tonight has forever jaded me.
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me. My parents wanted me, and I’m to be punished because the person who gave birth to you didn’t? Please, get over yourself. You had two people choose you, above all others, and love you. They still love you even if they are disappointed in your choices; you are still their entire life. What you fail to understand, not because of biology, but because of who you are . . . you are their choice every fucking time. Want to tell me now how pathetic your life was? Get off your pity train and wake up. I never thought the word selfish would describe you, but fuck if that word wasn’t coined for you.”
“Selfish? So all the years I let you tag along so your feelings weren’t hurt, I was being selfish? All the times I held your hand over some stupid crisis you were having, every year your mom went to the doctor, and I waited by your side until the news came back, your ninth grade dance, my prom, creating a bubble for you when you lost Nana . . . yeah, doing all that for you makes me selfish. I was your first kiss, your first lover, treated you with respect, and that makes me selfish? You’re typical Emma, living in her own world, seeing things how you want them to be . . . and we all know you’re never wrong. Instead of placing blame on me, you need to take a long look at yourself and place some of that blame where it lies.”
Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) Page 20