“Let her go,” Breck grunts, trying to hide his pain as he struggles to breathe.
Liam tsks, “I’ve seen how you work, Ash. You’re a quick sonofabitch. We’ve been here before, remember?”
“You have my word that I won’t fight you if you let her leave.”
“I’ll have to decline,” Liam chuckles, rubbing his hand down my face. His fingers squeeze my chin as he jerks it towards him, his gun never leaving the side of my head. “Any last words for your boyfriend, honey?”
“Breck,” I choke, not able to push any more words out.
“Don’t do this, Liam. Don’t! PLEASE!” Breck screams, and I’ve never seen him so utterly broken as terror darkens his entire face.
A chilling laugh spills from Liam’s lips, “I never thought I’d live to see the day Ash begged. I’m fuckin’ loving it!” He drags me into the kitchen and I stumble over the debris.
I’m numb as I’m dragged further. Something must have cut my bare foot because there’s blood trickling down the side. I try to look for anything I can use on Liam but the entire room is destroyed. Over my shoulder, I hear Breck flipping between making unspeakable threats if Liam hurts me to begging for my release. It’s heart shattering seeing him so broken. I thought seeing his despair last night was torture; this agony is pure hell. I want to kill Liam for hurting Breck. I tug against his tight grip, and he gives a hard tap of the pistol against my temple. My psyche starts to shut down. Nothing seems real. If my heart wasn’t breaking and palpitating so wildly, I would swear this was all just a horrible nightmare. Fire bursts across my ribs as I’m shoved against a jagged piece of the kitchen counter that’s left standing, but I refuse to cry out with the pain. Liam points the gun at my head. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want Breck to die. I don’t want either of us to end like this, not when we just started.
“Tell your girlfriend good-bye,” Liam taunts, and all I can think is how I’ve never heard someone refer to me as Breck’s girlfriend before and, now, I’ll never get to hear anyone call me that again.
Breck’s yelling vile profanities as Liam laughs. I won’t cry. I won’t give the bastard the satisfaction. My eyes close; I can’t watch him pull the trigger. I hear Breck let out a guttural cry and my eyes fly open to see him throwing his head back against Garth’s mouth before he grabs his arm, jerking it towards Liam and squeezing his hand over Garth’s as he forces the man’s large finger against the trigger.
The shot leaves my ears ringing as Liam drops to the ground. Blood pours from his side as he groans. Breck’s hand rams into Garth’s throat, his fingers and the hard heel of his hand caving it in. The sound of Garth’s breathless gurgles makes bile burn my throat. My entire body flinches when the heel of Breck’s hand thrusts powerfully against the nameless one’s nose and he drops instantly. Garth continues to gurgle, kneeling on his knees, as he sinks to the ground. He’s dead by the time Breck reaches me, pulling me into his arms.
“It’s okay, baby, you’re safe. You’re safe, now,” Breck repeats over and over, rocking me as he cradles my head against his chest.
I cling to him, fighting hysteria, desperately trying not to break down. A movement flashes in the corner of my eye and I grab a sharp piece of broken wood, bringing it down as hard as I can into Liam’s arm when he tries to raise the gun. My hands shake as the wood pierces his skin, plunging deep into his arm. His agonizing cry kills a little of my soul, but his wail ends when Breck kicks Liam’s chin viciously, snapping his neck. Despite my best efforts not to, I sink to my knees.
Breck scoops me into his arms before I fall all the way to the ground. The fresh air does nothing to relieve my reeling senses as Breck kicks open the door, dropping on the stairs and holding me against him. “It’s over, Emma, they can’t hurt you now,” his voice is stricken, gravely, when he whispers against my ear.
It’s not me I’m worried about. “You’re hurt,” I try to wipe the vast amount of blood from his face with the edge of the cloth wrapped haphazardly around me.
“I’m fine,” he breathes, brushing soft kisses across my temple and the corner of my eye. His brow scrunches tightly together as he grabs my face in both hands. Tears fill his eyes. “I thought – I thought I was going to lose you,” his voice breaks as the tears mix with the blood trickling down his face, “I can’t lose you!” His hand wraps around the back of my neck, tangling in my hair. With the other hand, he fists the filthy, blood covered cloth, holding me firmly, almost painfully, against him.
“I’m here, Breck,” I try to reassure him as his body tremors. Tightly, I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, as I hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, realizing that someone must have heard the shot.
They quickly get louder as Breck pulls me to my feet. Agony darkens his eyes, “They’re going to take me, Emma. Don’t be scared. Just do everything they say.”
“They won’t take you anywhere, Breck. It was self-defense,” I sputter, my fear spiking by the look in his eyes as they fill with sorrow.
“I’m sorry I got you into something like this, Em. God, I’m so sorry.”
The sirens are blaring now and Breck backs away from me, threading his fingers together and pressing them against the back of his head, “Don’t be scared, baby.”
Tires screech to a halt, and I step towards Breck, but he tells me stop. He shakes his head, “You’re safer not being close to me. Do what they say. I’m sorry, Emma. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I watch as he backs further away from me, slowly sinking to his knees when the officers pull their guns, shouting orders. Everything crashes down as Liam’s words slam into me, This time, you can watch as someone you love dies in your arms. My hand covers my mouth. Sickening realization drowns my soul as I watch Breck doing everything before the cops tell him to. He knows what to do. Liam said something about them being here before. Breck’s been in this position before.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” he calls to me again as the cuffs are slapped loudly against his wrists. Tears swim in his eyes as they never leave mine, “I’m sorry!”
One of the officers jerks his arm and Breck doesn’t resist. Anger surges, and I storm towards the cop. “Let him go. He didn’t do anything wrong!” I yell, yanking my arm free from an officer trying to pull me back. I don’t know what happened in his past but I know what happened today. I don’t understand why he’s in cuffs when they haven’t even seen what’s happened.
“Get back!” the officer demands.
I ignore him, “Why are you cuffing him? He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Emma, please, do what they say,” Breck pleads, “it’ll be okay.”
“Get down on your knees, Ms.!” an officer yells as two more go inside.
“Emma, do what they say,” Breck continues to plead.
I look around, feeling disconnected from my body, from everything. The sirens flash and officers fill the yard. Seeing Breck in handcuffs, his body bruised and bleeding as he stands in only his black briefs on this old porch to a house that I don’t even know, cuts deeply. One of the cops that went inside comes back out, nodding at Breck, and he’s jerked backwards towards the steps.
My arms are pulled behind my back. I feel the cold steel pinching my wrists.
“It’s okay, Emma. Tell them everything they ask. I’m so sorry,” Breck’s eyes are broken when they meet mine before he’s shoved inside the back of the police car, “I love you, Emma!”
The door slams, and I feel so lost as I’m led to another car, away from him.
The glass of water in front of me is lukewarm. I take another sip anyway. The sleeves of the sweatshirt from the clothes I was given is too long and I fidget with the edge, picking at it until I unravel a few strings. I’m angry, confused, scared, and I want to see Breck. They won’t tell me where he is or even if he’s alright. The questions come at me again. They are the same damn ones the officer before him peppered me with over and over. I’ve told them everything at least twenty times;
I don’t know what else they think I can tell them.
“Start from the beginning, Ms. Jones,” Officer Phillips states calmly, tapping his pen against his yellow legal pad.
I want to tell him to go to hell but I don’t. I do what Breck told me to do and tell him everything. Again. I don’t know how long I’ve been in the tiny room but it’s been hours. The florescent light flickers incessantly and I can close my eyes and recite every crack on the peeling paint on the far wall. My stomach growls but I’m not hungry.
A hard rap on the door brings Officer Phillips to his feet. A new man enters the room, and I cut my eyes at him, hating him before I even know his name. Officer Phillips leaves and the new man pulls a chair next to me. “I’m Detective Stahl. You can call me Daniel. Can I call you Emma, Ms. Jones?” his voice is softer than the previous ones.
“I don’t care what you call me.”
He lets out a little laugh. It’s not condescending. “You’ve had a rough day, and I’m sure we’re not making it any better.”
“No shit,” I snap. I’m being a brat, horribly rude. I don’t give a damn.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“I want to know where Breck is. Have you had a doctor look at him? He’s hurt,” my voice trembles with my last words and I bite my lip.
“Mr. Steele is in the next room, Emma. He seems to be holding up fine, but he’s worried about you.”
My eyes snap to his, “Can I see him?”
“Not just yet,” he replies, smiling kindly.
“Why?” I ask through gritted teeth, “he didn’t do anything. Liam and the others did! Breck was acting in self defense and defending me!”
“I understand; we’re just doing our jobs, Emma. There are four dead bodies in a house that’s been beat all to hell. We just need to understand what happened.”
I laugh angrily, “I don’t see what’s so hard to understand when it’s been explained in every damn detail over and over!”
“Is there anything you haven’t said? Anything you might have left out?”
There’s a helluva lot I haven’t said that I want to, but nothing that he’s meaning. “No.”
“Alright, Emma. You can wait at my desk with me for awhile,” Detective Stahl says, opening the door, “you have some people waiting on you.”
I follow him through the door and down the stark white hall to the large, loud room filled with desks and detectives. Gavin and Jess are sitting on a bench at the far side and Jess runs across the room when she sees me, wrapping her arms around my neck, “I was so worried about you, Emma.” Her eyes sheen with unshed tears, and I look away.
Detective Stahl backs away, giving me a little bit of privacy for the first time in hours.
“Emma, what did they do to you? Are you okay? What happened?” Jess asks, seeing the bruise on the side of my head, pulling me closer to her.
I pull away, “I think you and Gavin probably know more than me. Who were those men, Jess?”
Jess glances at Gavin, and I want to slap her. “Stop with all the damn secrets! I need to know. I have to know why they still have Breck in that interrogation room!”
Jess drops her head, and I grab her wrist, “Jess, please!”
“There’s so much to say, Emma. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Jess,” Gavin warns.
“Don’t! Don’t try to stop her, Gavin,” I seethe, my wrath turning on him, “Liam mentioned you. What the hell happened between you and them? Why is Breck involved?”
Gavin is spared from answering when my father steps around the corner and rushes towards me, pulling me into his arms. I sink into his embrace, needing him so much right now. “What are you doing here, Dad?”
“Jessica called me,” he hugs me tighter.
“I figured you would need your dad after-” Jess’ voice trails, “after what happened.”
“Honey, are you okay?” Dad asks, gently pushing my face away from him so he can examine it.
I’m thankful the damage is mostly tucked under my hair and clothes; I can’t stand seeing the pain in my father’s eyes. “I’m fine, dad. Just shaken up and worried about Breck.”
Justin steps behind Dad, and Gavin tenses. Justin places his hand on my cheek before taking my elbow and pulling me into his arms. His embrace is warm, familiar, and, at the moment, I need that, too. I lean into him, our years together slowly playing in my head like snapshots shown at a prom. He was constant, safe. I never had to worry about secrets or men trying to kill me with Justin. He’s everything I should want, but he’s nothing that I want or need. I pull away, sinking into Detective Stahl’s chair; too many emotions are swimming in my head, making me dizzy.
“Emma, there’s something you need to know about Breck,” Justin begins, dragging a chair from in front of the adjoining desk and scooting it next to me, “I was talking with one of the arresting officers and-”
“He hasn’t been arrested, Justin,” I quickly correct him.
“He might be. This isn’t the first time that he’s killed someone. He’s a murderer, Em.”
The world feels like it shifts, tilting on its axis, and I feel nauseously dizzy. Gripping the arm of the hard wooden chair, I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper, “What are you talking about?”
Gavin rakes his hand roughly through his dark hair as Jess sinks next to me, wrapping her small hands around my arm. “Those records are supposed to be sealed,” Gavin scowls, grinding his teeth, his jaw shifting back and forth with the motion.
“What records? What happened?”
Justin lays a file in my lap, and I close my eyes. I saw what Breck did to Edwin and I remember what he said he would’ve done if he had raped me. I’ve seen him fight. There’s no question that he’s dangerous. He can and has caused significant damage, but I know in my soul that Breck isn’t a murderer. My fingers shake as I open the file, reading the secrets of Breck’s past. Tears stain my cheeks, and Jess lays her head on my shoulder, slipping her fingers through mine. Heart wrenching sorrow engulfs me and I slam it shut. “Did you read this, Justin?” I ask quietly.
“Yes.”
Blinking, my eyes raise to his, “Then, you know he’s not a murderer! How can you call him that after what you read?” I push him with all the anger and despair raging inside, “LEAVE! I never want to see you again!”
He stumbles backwards as Dad grabs my arm, “Emma Michelle, what is wrong with you?”
Justin throws the file on the desk. “That seems to be a recurring question for you, Emma,” he yells, “what is wrong with you? What has happened to the girl I knew? The girl I fell in love with? You can’t possibly want someone like him!”
I thrash at Justin, and Dad holds me back, “Stop it, Emma!”
Justin’s eyes darken with contempt, “I didn’t tell your father that I saw you or what you’ve become, but it’s time he knows what his daughter has turned into. Tell him, Emma. Tell him how you are sleeping with Breck, a convicted murderer!”
“Stop calling him that!” I scream.
Dad lets me go, stepping in between Justin and me. “That’s enough, Justin!” his tone is harsher than I’ve ever heard.
Justin grabs my arm, pushing up the sleeve and showing the tattoo, knowing my father is adamantly against them. “She’s getting tattoos, drinking, and having sex, John. It’s time you bring her home.”
“It’s not your place to say what I should or shouldn’t do with my daughter,” Dad states calmly. He takes one look at the broken angel wing on my arm, then sees the bruises from Liam’s grip, and gently runs his thumb across the marks before sliding the sleeve back down. His troubled gaze lands on mine, “It’s not mine either. You aren’t a child and I can’t force you, no matter how badly I want to make you come home.”
“You’re just going to let her whore around with him!” Justin questions, his eyes widening.
Dad spins towards Justin, “Don’t ever speak to my daughter that way again. I know you’re upset, but n
ow is not the time to do this. Emma’s life was threatened and she’s been traumatized. You need to go cool off, Justin.”
Justin glares at me before walking away.
I can’t look at Dad as he faces me. His hand finds my chin, raising it, “I love you, Emma. I don’t agree with your choices but we can talk about that later.”
“Did you read his file?”
Dad nods, “He saved your life, Em, and you seem to have a lot of faith in that young man. I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”
Detective Stahl returns, nodding towards the hall, “I think you’ve been waiting to see someone for awhile.”
Breck steps around the corner, and I can’t get to him fast enough. I throw myself into his arms, and he groans. “Sorry,” I breathe into his chest, into the same kind of sweatshirt I’m wearing, “are you okay? Can we go now?”
Breck pulls me close to him, wrapping me so tightly in his arms, “We can go wherever you want to go, Emma.” He buries his face in my hair and his voice breaks, “I was so scared you would never want to see me again.”
“That could never be possible, Breck,” I press my cheek against his chest, relishing in what I thought was lost.
Dad comes up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder. Reluctantly, I pull away, giving Dad a sheepish grin, “Dad, this is Breck.” I tangle my small fingers in Breck’s strong ones, “This is my father.”
The look in Breck’s eyes speaks volumes, and I know this is nowhere near how he wanted to meet my father. We had planned for Breck to meet Dad next month. He was going to ask his permission to marry me. I know he’s worried that the blessing he was looking for will be withheld now. It doesn’t matter if it is; I’m marrying him anyway. I see the changes in him, even though they are slow. Breck extends his hand, “Mr. Jones, I-,” he pauses, squaring his jaw, “I wish I could have met you under different circumstances.”
Dad places his hand in Breck’s, “So do I, son.” Dad takes his time looking at Breck, like he’s searching for something to make him understand all that’s happened, “You look like you could use a doctor.”
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