by Sara Mack
“Emma, I have to talk to you.”
My stomach instantly knots. This sounds serious. Either that, or I’m still buzzed from my reckless drinking. Maybe I’m not processing things right. I try to lighten the mood. “I thought my name was Grace?” I tease.
He gives me a small smile and moves toward me. I retreat and bump up against the tree, feeling one of the boards at my lower back.
He steps up to me. Our bodies are nearly touching. “I don’t know exactly how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”
“What?” I whisper, because I’m pretty scared I know what’s coming and I know it won’t be good.
He reaches out to touch the daylily that’s still tucked behind my ear. “I know I promised you I wouldn’t do this…”
My heart starts to race and blood begins to pound behind my ears. No, no, no, no, no!
In one swift movement his mouth is on mine. I try to lean back and push him away, but I have nowhere to go with the tree behind me. His hands have moved to my arms, and he holds me there as his mouth moves softly against mine. I feel like I’m falling, like my whole body has gone numb, like my limbs are jelly. Unwelcome warmth starts to spread through me. I try to resist it. I attempt to turn my head away, but Dane releases my arm and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, burning my skin where he touches me. His other arm wraps around my waist, pulling me away from the tree.
Now that I think I have some leverage, I push against his chest again, to squirm out of his grasp. He feels what I’m trying to do and he pulls me against him. My arms get smashed uncomfortably in between us, and I move them up to try and break his hold. His mouth leaves mine and he looks down at me. “Please don’t,” he whispers.
I don’t know if it’s his plea or the look in his eyes; maybe it’s the alcohol still left in my system. Whatever it is, in that moment, all my resolve leaves me. When his mouth crushes mine again, I want it there. The warmth that I was suppressing in my chest moves outward through my body, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. A small part of my brain screams “What are you doing?!” but it’s a small part, and it is easily ignored. His mouth leaves mine and makes its way to my ear; his teeth graze my earlobe before I feel his lips on my neck. I’m lost in a haze. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t find one fiber in my being that wants to stop this.
Suddenly a sad, broken, hollow voice cracks over my shoulder. It shatters my world into a million pieces.
“Now can I say I told you so?”
Chapter 28
Sobriety hits me like a mack truck. With strength I didn’t know I had, I push hard against Dane’s shoulders. He releases me, and I stumble backward a few steps. He reaches out to catch my fall, but I violently push his hand away.
“Don’t touch me!” I snarl at him.
He looks at me bewildered. My eyes start to fill with angry tears, and I step to the side to move around him. I have to get out of here. I have to find James.
Dane backs up a few steps and attempts to stop me from leaving. He reaches out and tries to block my path with his arm, tries to grab my waist. I jerk my body out of his reach and start to walk quickly back the way we came. Dane manages to grab my forearm, and I’m forced to turn and look at him.
“Emma, wait!”
I stare at him as tears course down my face. I clench my jaw and forcefully try to pull my arm free. I see his face register my reaction and pain colors his hazel eyes. He releases my arm.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I growl.
I take two steps backward and then turn, picking up speed as I head back to the house. I leave Dane standing in the backyard alone. I run away from him. I run to find James.
When I make it home I burst through the door, leaving it open as I enter panicked. “James!” I call out. I look around frantically, wiping the tears from my face. He’s not here.
I run into the living room. “James!” I yell again, searching. I feel a sob building in my chest. I head for the stairs and take them two at a time.
I make it to my bedroom only to find it empty. “James!” I call out again. Silence. I search my room frantically for any sign that he might be here. “James, please!” I beg into nothingness. I have to see him. I have to beg for his forgiveness.
I wrap my arms around myself and end up sliding to the floor next to my bed. The sob in my chest continues to grow, threatening to rip through my heart and deflate my lungs. How could this happen? How could I allow this to happen? Mrs. Davis reappears in my head like the Wicked Witch of the West, staring at me disapprovingly. Everything James has done to be with me I’ve singlehandedly ruined. How can he forgive this? He can’t. I know he can’t. The sob escapes and I hide my face in my hands. My heart breaks at the thought that I may never see him again.
I hear the back door slam shut downstairs. I anticipate my parent’s voices calling up to me to let me know they’re home. I try to pull myself together, hastily wiping my face and jumping up to see how terrible I look in the mirror. My eyes are red and puffy; my face is covered with red splotches. There’s no hiding this. I make a hasty decision and throw myself into bed. If they come up to check on me, I can bury my face in my pillow. That’s where it will be spending the night anyway.
I lie in my bed, my heart pounding, as I wait for their arrival. But they don’t come. They don’t call up to me either. I glance at the clock. It’s only been a few minutes since I heard the door shut. I wait impatiently; I just want to lie to them that I’m fine and get it over with. So I can cry alone. So I can hate myself in peace.
After twenty minutes pass without a word from them I start to worry. Then my mind takes a dark turn. What if it’s not my parents? What if it’s Dane? Anger starts to build in my chest. How dare he? How dare he come into my house uninvited! What is he doing down there? Making himself at home?
I throw off my blankets and march out of my room and down the stairs, ready to give him a piece of my mind. I pray James is watching.
I can’t see anyone when I descend the stairs. Confused, I walk through the living room and into the kitchen, prepared to blast Dane with all I have. When I turn the corner, my eyes zero in on someone seated at the table.
Someone I never expected to see again in my lifetime.
Patrick, my ex-lab partner.
“Hello Emma.” A smug smile spreads across his face. “It’s been too, too long.”
A jolt of anxiety rips through my body. How is this possible?
Patrick looks at me expectantly. When I don’t say anything, he stands, splaying his fingers and resting the tips in front of him on the table. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
I continue to stare at him in shock, taking in his stocky build, cropped blonde hair, brown eyes, and thin-framed glasses. His overall appearance looks slightly different, but maybe my memory is hazy. He’s wearing a Budweiser t-shirt and denim shorts. He starts to come around the table toward me.
“You know it’s not polite to stare,” he says. His mouth still wears the smile, but his eyes harden at my lack of response.
I force myself to speak. “Hello Patrick,” my voice wavers.
He continues to advance toward me. “Ah, you remember me. That’s good,” he nods approvingly.
My voice is nervous, rough. “What are you doing here?”
He reaches me and looks me over from head to toe. The way his gaze slides over my body makes my skin crawl. “Now that would be giving away too much too soon, don’t you think?”
I take a step back. The sense that I am in danger rings loud and clear. I silently tell my Guardian that I get the message. My eyes dart to the door and back to him. Is it possible for me to get away? To make a run for it?
Patrick notices my glance and clicks his tongue. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Oh God. I swallow nervously.
His brown eyes turn dark as the smug smile returns. “The look on your face is priceless,” he says. “Even better than I imagined.”
&nbs
p; I narrow my eyes suspiciously even though my heart threatens to hammer through my chest. “What do…what do you want?”
“Oh, I’ve already taken a few things,” he responds, wearing a superior look. “The lock on your bedroom window is broken,” he says, giving me a sly smile. He reaches into his pocket and produces a pair of my underwear.
I nearly gag at the sight. He’s been in my room? How many times? Were my parents ever in danger? Anger slightly edges out my fear. It simmers, giving me a small boost of confidence. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you are not welcome in this house. Leave. Now.”
Patrick lets out a snort of laughter. “Who’s going to make me? You?”
All I can do is glare at him.
He crumples my underwear in his hand and tosses them aside. “Where’s your James when you need him now? Oh, that’s right. He’s dead.” He twists the word dead in his mouth.
“You don’t scare me.” I’m lying. I’m scared as hell, but I do my best to sound convincing.
“Let’s see what we can do to change that, shall we?”
He approaches me quickly and holds his face inches from mine. He’s too close for my comfort and I lean away automatically, turning my head.
“Look at me!” he shouts and grabs my arm.
Flinching, I do my best to face him. He grips my arm tightly.
“What do you see?” he demands through clenched teeth.
I don’t want to make eye contact. I struggle against his grip and try to back away. He grabs my other arm to keep me in place.
“Tell me what you see!” he yells.
I try to focus on his face. I can make out two somewhat jagged, dark pink lines that cut across his left cheekbone, near his eye. Now that I’m looking at him closely, I can see the left side of his face is slightly distorted, almost swollen, even though the scars look as if they’ve healed long ago. Is this what he wants me to see? “Your face!” I rasp. “I see your face!”
“Remember that night? The night you asked your beloved James to hurt me?” he growls.
“I never asked him to do that!”
“Your boyfriend broke my cheekbone, shattered my eye socket!” He releases my arms with a twist, pushing me away. “That bastard left me partially blind!”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I choke out. “I didn’t know!”
“Why would you?” he sneers. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience your perfect life.” He pauses and then laughs maniacally. “But that all came crashing down, didn’t it?”
I say nothing; I am mute.
Patrick shakes his head, his laugh lingering. He crosses his arms. “First James dies. I admit I was shocked to hear the news. My condolences,” he leans toward me and gives me a look that mocks sympathy. “I figured you’d be pretty wrecked, but that performance at the funeral,” he lets out a low whistle then looks me in the eye. “That was something.” He smiles knowingly.
I take a step to the side. He mirrors my move.
“After that I thought about things, because, you know, I’m reminded daily,” he points to his marred cheek. “And I thought, why stop there? Let’s have some fun.”
His twisted expression terrifies me. I start to back away from him again. “Patrick…”
“Slashing your tire was a rookie move,” he admits. “It brought me no satisfaction. Breaking into your house was almost too easy,” he pauses. “So I decided to pay a visit to the Davis’. Completely trashed your reputation there,” he snickers. “Now that – that was fun.”
Mrs. Davis’ voice returns to me – “I had a visit from your new boyfriend the other day.” I shudder. I don’t know what to say. All I know is that I have to get away, away from here, away from him. I don’t know what he’s capable of. I make a split second decision. I bolt toward the back door.
“STOP!” he bellows. He runs around the kitchen island opposite me and cuts me off, blocking my way to the door.
I pant as he continues to walk toward me, pushing me back to where I came from. “You will not try that again,” he snaps at me.
“Patrick,” I plead with him. “I can’t change the past! My life is broken! What more do you want from me?”
He tilts his head and smiles maliciously as he continues to press me backward. Before I can react, the heel of my foot collides with the dining room wall. I have nowhere to go. Patrick advances toward me and reaches out on either side of my head, pressing his hands against the wall, blocking my exit to my right and to my left. I cringe as he leans in close. I can feel his hot breath on my skin, below my ear.
“Oh, I can think of one more way to ruin you,” he whispers and licks my neck.
Chapter 29
Time stands still. My mind fumbles to wrap around this reality, tries to comprehend the insanity. How did this day spiral so wildly out of my control? I feel my face grow hot as my heart starts to sputter spastically in my chest. My vision blurs, making the room turn fuzzy on the edges. With just that one act I already feel violated.
Patrick moves to look me in the eye. His face twists into a lurid smile at the horror on my face. “I see you understand what I have in mind,” he says and quickly grabs hold of my chin, clutching it painfully. “You. Will. Not. Move. Understand?”
I nod meekly. I understand all too well. What he doesn’t know is that I’m not going down without a fight.
“Good girl,” he approves. He roughly releases my chin and brings his hand down hard on my shoulder, pushing me against the wall. He takes a step closer and stares down at me as his free hand finds the bottom of my shirt and starts to make its way underneath.
It’s now or never.
I slap him as hard as I can across his face. My skin hitting his sounds like a whip; my palm stings at the contact.
“Arrgh!” he growls and leans back.
I immediately spring to my right and try to take off, intent on making it to the back door. I only make it a few steps. He catches me from behind, wraps his arms around mine, and pins them to my sides at my elbows. I struggle and twist my body against his. “NO!” I scream.
Patrick turns us and starts to tow me backward against my will, pulling me toward the doorway into the living room. I’m sure he wants me as far away from an exit as possible. I plant my bare feet against the wood floor of the kitchen to try and hold on to something, anything that will provide resistance against his pull.
He realizes what I’m trying to do with my feet and lifts me off the ground slightly. He continues to walk backward, holding me up, as I struggle against him with my upper body. I can hear him huff with his efforts; he’s getting winded. “Stop fighting me!” he shouts.
I start to wildly kick my legs. One of my feet ends up winding around his ankle, and I kick it out from under him. He loses his balance and stumbles. He falls backward onto the floor, taking me with him. I land hard on my back and tailbone, partially across his body. His arms release me, and I roll off him, scrambling to my hands and knees. I try to stand, but my legs are wobbly.
“DAMN IT!” I hear him yell from behind me.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins. So much so that I can barely control my movements. My mind is screaming for my limbs to cooperate, but my arms and legs are all over the place. I try to focus on coordinating my body to crawl, but it feels like I’m crawling in place, putting no distance between me and my attacker.
I manage to get a few feet away when his hand finds my ankle. My ribs and my chin smash against the floor as he yanks me backward, knocking my hands out from underneath me. Pain seers through my jaw, and I scream.
I feel myself sliding across the floor. Patrick releases my ankle and quickly crawls up my body to grab a handful of my hair. He hovers over me, straddling me on his knees, and pulls my hair painfully to lift my head up. “I said don’t move!” he snarls in my ear.
He releases my head violently, pushing me, and my forehead cracks against the wood floor. Oh my God. The pain is indescribable. I can’t bring myself to scream, onl
y whimper.
Patrick rolls my body underneath him so I’m lying on my back. He remains over me, kneeling. My world swirls; I can see his face, I can see the top of the doorframe above us. I feel him move my arms to my sides and pin them against my body with his knees. I try to move them, but my head is throbbing and black spots dance across my eyes.
He leans over me, his face looming above mine. My mind registers that his glasses sit on his face askew. I feel his hands at my waist, pulling at my shorts, unfastening them. I try to move my legs to kick, but it’s as if I’m paralyzed. I close my eyes to brace for what’s about to happen, willing my body to recover and cooperate. I open my eyes to see if the dark spots are gone.
And see James.
He stands over us, a look of pure horror on his face. “James!” I choke out, my voice barely audible and raspy.
Patrick hears me and smiles wickedly. “James can’t save you, sweetheart.”
I focus on James. His face reflects everything I’m feeling – hatred, revulsion, disgust, and fear. He lunges at Patrick, wrapping his arms around his chest to pull him off of me.
It has no effect on him.
But it does on me.
The dark spots disappear and even though my head throbs with excruciating pain, I start to writhe and twist beneath Patrick. He squeezes my body tighter between his knees to stop me. When that’s not enough, he removes his hands from my body and pins my shoulders to the floor. “Don’t make me hurt you anymore than I already planned!”
I see James wrap his hands around Patrick’s neck and squeeze. Patrick doesn’t budge. James steps back and kicks Patrick repeatedly on his back, in his side. He takes another step back and side swipes Patrick’s head with his foot. Still nothing. James looks at me terrified and helpless.
I return his tortured gaze. How long can I fend Patrick off? How badly is he willing to hurt me? I know the obvious, but how far will he go to incapacitate me? My only option is to keep fighting. James gives me the strength. I spit in Patrick’s face.
“You bitch!” he snaps and reflexively backhands me.