by Jamie Canosa
Em peeled her eyes to open despite the fact that they felt glued shut and blinked against the harsh light. She was lying on a long thin bed, staring up into a ceiling light, and she hurt. Everywhere. Her head throbbed, her throat ached, her left arm and leg burned like they were on fire, and her entire right side made the rest of it feel like nothing more than a paper cut.
“Oh, there you are, sweetie. Welcome back. You took quite a hit. I’m glad to see you’re awake so soon.”
A hit? So soon? What the . . .? “What time is it?”
“A little after noon. You’ve been out for about four hours, but the meds will do that to you. Just try to relax, Emerson. You have a badly sprained ankle, and some pretty nasty road rash. Like I said, you took quite a hit and your right side . . . It’s a miracle there isn’t more damage . . . No broken ribs . . . Called the police.”
The nurse kept talking but only bits and pieces were reaching Em. She was stuck on the part where the woman in the puppy dog scrubs had called her Emerson. Had known her name.
“How?” The nurse cut off and Em realized she’d just interrupted. “How did you know my name?”
“Oh, well it was on your ID. The doctors found it in your back pocket when they brought you in. It’s standard procedure to check an unconscious patient’s pockets for identification when they’re brought in. Don’t worry, sweetie, your clothes were saved for you, though they’re pretty torn up. We’ve already contracted your father. He’s on his way. I’m sure he can bring you something else to wear when you’re ready to go home.”
Ready to go home? Try never. And where the heck had they gotten her ID from? She’d thrown that away with her wallet as soon as she’d stepped off of the . . . Oh no, the train. The ticket. She’d needed her ID for the ticket and when her bag dumped all over the floor, she’d shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans. The jeans she’d put on that morning. No. No. No! Not now. Not like this. They hadn’t called her father. Her father was dead. They’d called him.
“When did you call him?”
“Well, right after you arrived, I assume. Around . . .” she flipped through the chart at the end of Em’s bed, “eight-thirty.”
Four hours. He’d known where she was for almost four hour already. He wouldn’t have waited, either. She knew for a fact that he was on his way there the minute he hung up the phone. Groaning, Em buried her face in the pillow. He’d be there any time now. Why couldn’t the car have just killed her? It would have been better that way. She couldn’t face him again. She couldn’t.
“Don’t worry, Emerson, I’ll bring in some more pain medicine soon. This batch is starting to wear off.”
Em didn’t listen. Didn’t care. Didn’t even notice when the nurse left the room. She was too busy trying to figure out how the heck she was going to get out of there. As soon as the door clicked shut, Em pushed herself up to sitting until a nausea inducing bout of pain lanced through her, forcing her back down on the bed.
She didn’t have time for this. She needed to stop being such a coward, and suck it up. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. This time she got halfway up before she was stopped. Not by pain, but by the slight creak of the door opening. Her heart stopped beating. Her lungs stopped breathing. Her entire body froze. Until Jay stepped into the room. The relief crashing over her, drove her back down onto the mattress for a second time.
“Jesus, Em.” Jay was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head no, still shaking too hard to speak.
“What’s wrong?”
“My name.”
“What?”
“They know my name. They know who I am.” Hysterics were making her nearly indecipherable but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about.
“Okay. Calm down. Where are you hurt, Em?”
“It’s not okay! They know who I am, Jay.”
“I got that, but—”
“They called him.” She wanted to scream it so that Jay would understand just how bad the situation was, but she could barely manage more than a whisper.
“Called who, Em?”
She looked him right in the eye, so there would be no mistaking her answer. “Him.”
Jay stood there shaking his head, looking like she’d just punched a hole through his chest. He knew. She wasn’t sure exactly when he’d figured it out, just that he had somewhere along the way. All she’d just done was verify it.
“Shit, Em.” He obviously had more to say, but he swallowed it hard, understanding that it wasn’t the time.
“He’ll be here any minute. We have to go. I have to get out of here.”
“Em, just wait.” She was already trying to crawl her way out of the bed, but Jay held her back. “Just wait a second, would you?”
“I can’t!”
“Em.” He inhaled deeply, pushing aside whatever else was running through his mind, and forced himself to focus. “How bad are you hurt? Maybe leaving the hospital right now isn’t the best idea.”
“He. Will. Kill. Me.” That got his attention. “Jay, if he finds me, he’ll kill me. Or worse . . . he won’t.”
All of the color drained from Jay’s face and she knew she’d made her point.
“Okay. Let’s get you out of here. Where are your clothes?”
“She said they saved them for me.”
Jay rushed over to the small wooden closet in the corner and checked the shelves. He turned back to her, starting to shake his head and his eyes lit up.
“There.” He grabbed a plastic bag out from under her bed and handed it to her.
Getting out of the bed—even with Jay’s help—hurt like crazy. Hell, breathing hurt like crazy. Movement of any kind was excruciating.
“Are you going to be okay in there?” Jay kicked open the bathroom door, since his arms were occupied trying to keep Em on her feet.
“I’ll be fine.”
“All right. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
Em lean against the wall and dumped the contents of the bag on the floor. Her t-shirt, sweat shirt, jeans, and bra, all littered the small black and white tiles. They were a mess—torn and bloody—but still better than the paper gown she was currently wearing.
In her struggle to change her clothes—easier said than done in her condition—Em caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror over the small sink that made her breath catch. It took her a moment to recognize herself. How long had it been since she’d left home? She’d lost track somewhere along the way, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple weeks. She was startled by how much her appearance had changed. She’d definitely lost weight. Her cheeks seemed almost hollow, like they were sinking in on themselves, her hair was dull, limp, and tangled, and dark circles ringed her eyes. She tried in vain to remember the last time she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep.
“Where’s Emerson?” His voice penetrated the room and slammed right into her with all the force of a freight train. She’d been in mid-reach for the doorknob. A moment later and she would have been staring him in the face.
Em’s fingers gripped the sink so tightly that her knuckles whitened and she could have sworn she heard them actually creak. Her eyes fixated on the thin wood door. The only thing standing between her and her nightmares.
“She’s not here.” Jay’s voice cut through the pulse pounding in her ears and she realized the door wasn’t the only thing standing between them.
“What do you mean she’s not here? This is her room, isn’t it?”
“She’s gone. And you’re never going to find her.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You tell me where she is now, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Do to me what you did to her? You sick bastard. What did you do to her?” She didn’t need to see him to know Jay was pissed. His voice shook with barely suppressed rage. “You wanna call the police? Go right ahead. I will never let you touch that girl again.”
“You want to play this game with me?
Look at you. I’m a successful, respected businessman. Who do you think they’re going to believe?” A pause that seemed to last an eternity, and then . . . “I think I’ll make that call now.”
Footsteps neared the bathroom door, and Em hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until it escaped her in a gasp as the door swung open.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jay
Em was white as a sheet and clinging to the cheap porcelain sink like it was her last lifeline. The terror in her eyes forced Jay to choke back the anger threatening to consume him. More than anything he wanted to chase the bastard down and squeeze the life out of him just for putting that look in her eyes, but she needed him now and she was already frightened enough.
“Hey. Em, it’s all right.” He inched into the bathroom slowly, knowing full well they were working with a ticking clock, but not wanting to spook her.
“Whe—where is h—he?” Her voice shook as badly as her body.
Jay shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from wrapping his arms around her. That probably wouldn’t have gone over so well just then. “Gone. He left. I think he’s calling the police, but we gotta go. Now.”
“He’s . . . He’s gonna find me. I never should have left. He said he’d find me. He said he’d find me and he’d—” Her gaze drifted inward and he knew he was losing her.
“Stop. Em, look at me.” No response. “Em!” Her eyes snapped to his with renewed fear and he silently cursed himself for startling her. “Listen to me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m getting you out of here. Right now. I just need your help, okay?”
She nodded silently and he could practically see her heart slamming against her ribs. She was more terrified than he could ever remember being in his entire life. After prying her hands from the cold porcelain, he took her hand in his and coaxed her toward the door. Three steps into the room and her right leg gave out.
Slipping one arm around her waist, Jay secured her other arm over his shoulders. She may not like being touched, but it was unavoidable. She could barely put any weight at all on her ankle. She wasn’t getting anywhere without his help. He left her leaning against the foot of the bed just long enough to make a check of the hallway before ushering her towards the elevator bank. The stairs were definitely out of the question.
Standing there, waiting for that damn arrow to light up and those doors to slide open were some of the longest minutes of Jay’s entire life. Right up there with every minute it took him to reach the hospital after Ace had told him what had happened to Em. She’d been trying to help, trying to prove herself to him. She still felt like she needed to.
He’d cursed himself for over sleeping every single step of the way. She wasn’t the only one who had nightmares. But sleeping beside her, they hadn’t haunted him for the first time in forever. For a moment, he thought he’d dreamed her up when he woke to find her gone. Not knowing had been the worst. Seeing her lying in that hospital bed had been a close second, but this . . . This crippling terror that was overpowering even her physical pain was killing him to witness.
Jay breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally slid open with a faint ding and they stepped into the empty elevator. The whole way down, neither of them said a word. Nor did they speak as they made their way as inconspicuously as possible along the main hall and out the Emergency Room doors. Em was trying to walk as normally as she could, but it was causing her enough pain that she chewed her lip until it bled.
Three police cruisers pulled up to the main entrance and Jay watched six uniformed officers go inside the building as they crossed the parking lot. At the back of the lot, they rounded a parking garage into a narrow alleyway and he couldn’t bear to watch her take another step.
“Stop. Stop, stop. Em, hold on. You need to take a break.” He steered her toward the wall and helped lower her to the ground, sitting her on a piece of cardboard. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s okay.” A blatant lie.
“No it’s not. Is it broken?”
“No. I . . . I don’t think so. I think she said something about a sprain, maybe?” Jay could understand. She’d had bigger concerns on her mind, but he didn’t.
“Sprained ankle?”
“Yeah. Jay we can’t stay here. The police—”
“Let me worry about that. What else?”
“What?”
“Where else are you hurt, Em? How bad is it?”
“Not too bad.”
“You were Hit. By. A. Car. I’m not an idiot, Em, so please don’t treat me like one. Where else?”
“My arm.” She pulled up her tattered sleeve, revealing a bandaged forearm. “It’s just road rash. Cuts and scrapes. Same on my leg.” She glanced down at the white gauze showing through her cut pant leg.
“And?”
“My side.” Em grimaced, and Jay knew they’d reached the serious stuff.
Needing to know just how badly she was injured, Jay instinctively reached for the hem of her shirt. Stopping himself just before he grabbed it, he glanced up at her pale face.
“Can I?” He waited, not moving a muscle so she’d know he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to.
When she nodded, Jay carefully lifted her shirt up to her bra line. The nearly black bruising running along her entire right side made him wince. That must have been where the car hit her and it looked bad.
“Shit, Em. What did the doctor say?”
“I only talked to the nurse. It’s just a bruise, I think.”
She thought? Jay wasn’t so sure. What if it was something worse? Internal bleeding, or something? What if he was hurting her more than helping by taking her from the hospital? A solid ball of fear solidified in the pit of his stomach.
“Em, I don’t know—”
“It’s fine, Jay. Just a bruise. I’m fine.”
“It hurts.” Definitely not a question.
She didn’t even bother to deny it. “We have to keep moving. What if the police look back here? What if they find us? They’ll send me back to him.”
“Who was that guy, Em? Your father?”
“My uncle.” Christ, even her voice shook at the mention of that asshole.
Shifting on to the ground beside her, Jay pulled her into his arms and felt her entire body trembling. He knew what had to come next, but he wasn’t going to let her face it alone. “What did he do to you, Em?”
Em’s small hand fisted in the front of his shirt and he bit back the urge to withdraw the question. Jay steeled himself, knowing he wasn’t going to want to hear whatever she had to say. He also knew if he was ever going to be able to help her, he needed to.
“I grew up with my aunt and uncle.” Her voice was faint, and he strained to pick up every word. “My parents died in a car accident when I was little, so my mom’s sister and her husband took me in. They raised me as their own, and everything was fine . . . until my aunt died.”
A shudder rolled through her body and Jay’s stomach clenched. A feeling he knew well, only this time it had nothing to do with hunger.
“My uncle never remarried. He never even dated.” She stopped again to take a few deep breaths. Jay squeezed her lightly, reminding her he was there, as tears pooled in her eyes. “I was fourteen the first time he crawled into my bed at night.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Em
She closed her eyes in an effort to hold back the tears burning like acid in her eyes, but even that couldn’t keep them at bay. They seeped under her eyelids and down her cheeks as memories of that awful night came flooding back.
She’d woken up when he’d come in the room. At first she hadn’t thought anything of it, but something felt . . . off. Without knowing why, she’d pretended to be asleep. Em could still hear the sound of his footsteps crossing the room towards her and the pounding of her heart. The cold air as the blanket was pulled away. The dip of the mattress. The feel of his body pressed up against her back. His arm around her waist.
&n
bsp; “Christ.” Jay looked like he may become physically ill. “Em . . .”
“I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared.” Such a coward. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Em.” Jay pressed his face against her shoulder and nuzzled her neck.
Turning into him, she buried her face in his chest as he held her tight. They stayed like that—wrapped up in each other—until she was able to pull herself back together.
“I’m so sorry, Em. I shouldn’t have—” Jay’s face pinched and he shook his head again. “I’m so sorry.”
Em didn’t realize how tightly he’d been clinging to her until his grip eased and a fresh wave of pain washed over her. She stifled the whimper threatening to break free.
Jay didn’t seem to notice. His mind was elsewhere. “You never told anyone?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I was confused at first, I guess. I didn’t really understand what was going on. And then I was too ashamed to tell anyone.” She couldn’t believe she was even telling him, but the combination of fear, pain, and medication had shattered her defenses. “I’d been letting it happen for three years already, how could I possibly explain that?”
She was a slut. That’s what her uncle had said. That’s why she’d let him get away with it. She knew it wasn’t true, but that’s what everyone else would think, what Jay probably thought. God, what if he . . .
“Em, nothing that happened was your fault. You didn’t let anything happen. You don’t have to explain anything.” His expression seemed to be warring between rage and disgust, but his words made it clear that neither were aimed at her.
Jay’s words were kind, but she knew better. She knew the truth. “I was a coward. A useless coward!”
Useless coward. Useless coward. She’d called herself that for years. Screamed it at herself in the mirror every damn time, but never in front of another person.