by Hale, Beth
“The only thing I want you to do is spread those legs for me.”
He began to stalk her around the small room. “Don’t act like you don’t want it. I saw you with them. Jack. And James. You even let that stupid queer put his hands all over you that night at the bonfire.”
Emma hissed. “Don’t you dare call him that! You’ll never be the man he is!”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see who’s more manly when I get you under me.” He reached out, tore at her sweater. It ripped, exposing her lace-covered breasts to his view. He grabbed them, pinching cruelly.
She couldn’t hold back her cry of pain. “Yes,” he panted. “Just wait, love. I’ll make you feel even better.” He forced her arms behind her back and the shoulder he’d hurt before screamed in protest. He lowered his head and bit her through the lace. Emma cried out again.
“Please, please,” she begged, “don’t do this. Please let me go.”
“After. We’ll have fun, and then we’ll go clean
up.” He put his mouth over hers and she bit his lower
lip as hard as she could. He pulled back, swiped a hand
over his lips and smeared blood.
“Whore,” he snarled. And slapped her.
Emma raised a trembling hand to her cheek and stared at him. She felt the heat of the slap, felt the welts beginning to rise.
“Use your mouth like that again,” he warned, “you’ll get more than a slap.” When Marcus reached for his belt, Emma realized there was no reasoning with him. Her mind scrambled desperately.
His hands squeezed her breasts again and Emma shrank from his touch. He chuckled and pulled her closer. He ground his arousal against her hip and forced his tongue between her lips. She gagged and shoved at him, but it only seemed to excite him more. He shoved a hand under her skirt and she felt his thick fingers seeking.
Twisting furiously, she managed to break away. They stood looking at each other, panting and wild-eyed. Her eyes began to search the room, looking for a way out, for anything to help her.
“Just gotta lock the door,” he muttered thickly. Emma remembered the phone in her pocket. She frantically pulled it out as soon as his back was turned and hit redial.
Marcus turned, slapped the phone out of her hand. “No time to talk to anyone, Emma, when your mouth will be busy with other things,” he said and grabbed her again.
***
Norah’s phone began to vibrate. She glanced at
it and muttered “Finally,” to Alison. “Hello? Em—
Emma?” She heard Emma’s sharp cry of no and the
unmistakable sounds of a struggle.
She paled. “Hurry,” she urged, dragging Alison with her towards the double doors. “Emma’s—someone has her, someone’s hurting her!”
The rest of them jumped to their feet and followed them through the doors.
***
Marcus backhanded her and the coppery taste of blood filled Emma’s mouth. He lunged for her again and she sidestepped, raking his face with her nails. He lifted a hand to his cheek, brought back blood.
“Stay away from me,” she spat. “Don’t touch me again.”
He hit her again, a hard blow of his fist to her eye. She fell to her knees with a cry of pain.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you?” he hissed, his hand going to his fly. “That’s a perfect spot for you, on your knees.”
Desperate, she grabbed the closest weapon she could find. Her hand closed over the handle of a small hammer and she swung with all her might. The claw ripped his cheek and blood began to flow.
“Bitch!” he roared. “I’ll kill you! You better hope to hell that doesn’t leave a scar.” His fist shot out, catching her temple. She caught herself with her hands and knees before she hit the floor.
Before she could get scramble back up, his booted foot kicked her twice in the ribs, viciously. Pain seared along her side, stealing her breath. She toppled over, wheezing.
***
“Look there, broken glass,” Jack noted as they rushed through the hall. They stood still and strained to locate what direction Emma was in. Hearing a sharp cry of pain, Jack sprinted left, stopping two doors down.
He frantically twisted the handle. “Goddamn it, locked!” He took a step back, rammed his shoulder into the door. “Help me!” he commanded.
“Call the police,” Roger ordered Alison as the three men began battering the door.
“We’ll have to kick the damn door down,” Jack panted.
“Keys!” Thomas suddenly remembered. “Master set in the front office!” He took off at a dead run as Jack and Roger continued to frantically kick and pummel the door.
***
Emma was dizzy. She tried to crawl to her feet again but he shoved her back down. He rucked her skirt up and she whimpered when she heard his zipper.
She struggled, managed to sink her teeth into the wrist pulling at her tights.
Marcus hissed in pain and grabbed her head. He banged it twice onto the tile floor. Her vision wavered, but still she fought. She managed to raise a knee and catch him in the stomach. He grunted and quickly hit her again with his fist.
“Like it rough, huh?” he muttered savagely. “Good, so do I.” He caught her wrist and twisted it sharply. Emma bit back a cry of pain and spit in his face.
“Goddamn whore!” he roared. His hands
circled her throat and squeezed. Emma’s eyes widened and she tried to gasp for air. He grinned cruelly and applied more pressure. He’d teach the bitch her place.
Emma’s vision turned dim and everything began to fade. Sound diminished, leaving a dull roar in her ears. She stilled, her last thought centering on Jack as a tear slipped down her cheek. She slid away.
***
Jack burst through the door like fury. His leaping tackle knocked Marcus off Emma and onto his back. Jack was on him before he had a chance to gain his feet, delivering one right punch after another.
“You worthless bastard,” he snarled. “I’ll kill you for touching her.” He rained blow after blow to Marcus’s face. Blood spurted from his nose, his lip, a gash above his eyes.
“Jesus, Jack, that’s enough. He’s out, he’s finished.” Thomas finally managed to pull Jack away. Jack got in a final kick to the ribs before the sound of quite weeping penetrated the wall of rage.
He turned and saw Emma, bruised and bloody and much, much too still.
“No. No, no, no,” he chanted, crossing to her. He knelt and touched her swollen cheek.
“She’s alive,” Norah managed through her tears. She held Emma’s hand gingerly. “She has a pulse, but oh God, it’s weak.”
Alison stood, still clutching her phone, her other hand over her mouth. She was staring, horrified, at Emma’s ripped clothing, the black bruising spreading around her neck.
Roger fumbled out of his velvet costume
doublet and gently draped it over her still body. His hand dropped to Jack’s shoulder.
“Sirens. They’re here,” Thomas announced in the silence and went to meet the police and medics.
Chapter 38
They waited, for what seemed like hours. Jack paced like a caged animal. His worry was palpable.
“You should let them look at your hand,” Alison told him quietly. It was swollen and turning purple.
He glanced down at it and shrugged. “It’ll keep. Damn it, what’s taking them so long?”
“I should call Chris, but I don’t want to until we know,” Norah spoke up. “And her mother is still on her cruise.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “She looked so awful,” she whispered.
A tall man with tired eyes pushed through the doors. “Ms. Jackson?”
Norah stood. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Barry Amos. Miss Payne is very lucky. She didn’t suffer many serious injuries. The one I’m most concerned about is her vocal cords. There’s considerable bruising there, but I believe they should completely heal. I’m surprised that, with the damage s
howing, her trachea wasn’t injured beyond the swelling.
“She also has two fractured ribs, a wrenched shoulder, and a sprained wrist. More minor injuries include a black eye, a split lip, and numerous bumps, bruises and cuts. No concussion, which means we were able to give her something for the pain.”
Jack, who had been listening intently, spoke up. “Can I see her now?”
Dr. Amos smiled gently. “In another half hour or so. The nurse is wrapping her ribs and then we’ll get her settled in her room. You need to let me examine that hand, young man. Come with me.”
Norah nudged Jack forward. “Go on. I
promise we’ll come get you when we can go in.” He nodded and followed the doctor.
Thomas stood. “Now that I know she’s going to be OK, I’m heading to the police station. Since they patched that little bugger up and sent him on, I want to be sure he’s charged with everything possible.”
“I’ll come with you,” Roger said. “Marcus worked for me. I feel sick over this; I can’t believe I didn’t see what he really was.”
“It’s not your fault,” Norah told him. “He had a thing for Emma from the start and she kept rejecting him. I guess he just snapped.”
“He’s a bastard. I hope he hangs,” Roger replied as he walked out with Thomas.
Norah and Alison sat holding hands until the nurse came to take them back. “I’ll see if Jack’s ready,” Alison said and rushed off.
Norah stood at the foot of Emma’s bed. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she looked at her.
“My God,” came Alison’s shocked whisper from the doorway.
Jack walked to the side of the bed and gripped the rail with his unbandgaged hand. Emma lay, her skin almost the same color as the sheets. The bruising stood out in sharp contrast.
There was a blue bruise on her temple; her left eye was mottled black and purple. Her cheek was swollen and so was her split lower lip. Her right arm was in a sling and he knew her ribs beneath the sheets were wrapped.
Worst of all was her throat. Vicious black
bruises in the shape of fingers spread out,
reminding Jack of how he’d almost lost her. Tears
clogged his throat and he looked helplessly at Norah and Alison.
Emma stirred and opened her eyes. She tried to focus but the room kept spinning, the people tilting in front of her. She hurt all over, so damn much.
“There’s my girl,” he murmured low, relieved she’d opened her eyes.
Her eyes landed on Jack and she opened her mouth. “What?” she managed to wheeze out before wincing in pain.
“Shhh. You’ve been hurt, darling, but the doctor says you’ll be fine,” he told her, trying to reassure himself as well as her.
Emma nodded. Her free hand fluttered to her throat. “Hurts,” she whispered.
“I know, love. Oh, Emma, I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes closed, then flashed open again, filled with panic. “Marcus.”
“In jail.” Jack’s voice was hard. “He’ll not hurt you again.”
She looked at Norah. “Rape?” she asked in a fear-laced whisper.
“No.” Understanding, Norah moved to her other side and stroked her hair. “He didn’t rape you. Jack got to you in time.”
Emma looked at him again and tried to thank him, but all she could manage was a moan of pain. Her whole body was beginning to throb.
A nurse bustled in and injected medicine into Emma’s IV. “Dr. Amos said to give her another dose of pain meds. It’ll help her sleep.” When she’d left the room, Emma managed another whisper.
“Bad?”
“Kind of bad, Emma,” Norah admitted with a catch in her throat. “Bruised vocal cords, fractured ribs. But you’ll be ok.”
Emma worked up a small, weak smile. “Alive.”
“Thank God,” Alison replied. “You gave us all a scare.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m going to call Chris, Emma. He’ll want to know.”
“Not Mama.”
“No, I won’t call her,” Norah replied.
The medicine was beginning to work and the pain began to ease. Emma’s eyes grew blurry again and she let her mind and body drift as the sea of pain began to recede.
“She’s out,” Alison observed. “I hope she rests easy for a while. What did they say about your hand?” she asked Jack.
“Broken fingers,” he replied, holding it up for inspection. “They wrapped them for me and I popped some Tylenol.”
“I’m going to make phone calls,” Norah said quietly and slipped from the room.
Jack pulled a padded chair up to Emma’s bedside and took her hand again. “I’m staying with her tonight,” he announced.
Alison nodded. “I thought as much. I’m going to ask Norah to come home with me. We’ll both do better, I think, with Jacob and the baby for distraction.”
“I wish I’d killed him.”
“Oh, Jack, no. He’s not worth the trouble you’d be in.”
“He almost killed her. I couldn’t bear that.” His
voice cracked. His emotions were bubbling over now
that he knew Emma would be ok. Alison walked around, lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She looks so fragile. Like she’d break if I touched her now.”
“She’s strong. She fought back, Jack.”
“She did, yes. God, I don’t want to lose her.”
“You won’t. I promise.”
Norah came back in and said, “Chris is taking the first flight he can get. I’ve asked the nurse to bring an extra blanket. I’m staying with her tonight.”
Jack was shaking his head. “No need for both of us to be here. I’m staying right here, right beside her.” His tone was implacable.
Norah started to object, but knew he needed to stay close to Emma. “Of course. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, then.”
“I’d like you to come stay with us tonight,” Alison told her.
“I will,” she replied immediately. “I really don’t feel like being alone.” She ran her hand over Emma’s hair again, brushed a kiss over Jack’s cheek. “Try to get a little rest,” she told him.
Alison mimicked Norah’s actions and said, “I’ll bring you a change of clothes in the morning.”
Alone with Emma in the stillness, Jack rubbed his thumb gently over the back of her hand. He knew how lucky she was—how lucky he was—that she lived. The tears he’d managed to hold in check finally began to track down his face.
***
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brandon, but you’ll have to wait outside.”
“Won’t you let me stay?”
“I have to give Miss Payne a bath. You’re not her husband or a family member so I’m afraid you can’t stay.”
Jack realized suddenly that he wanted to be, more than anything.
“Just between you and me, I know what she looks like with no clothes on,” he tried again.
The nurse’s eyes and mouth softened at the underlying plea. “I really am sorry, but it’s policy. You’ll be allowed back in just a while.”
Jack nodded and joined the others in the waiting room.
“Well, it’s out,” Thomas said grimly, waving a couple of newspapers. “Hard to keep the press from finding out a story like this. Especially with the police and medics involved.”
“What are they saying?”
“That Emma was brutally attacked, had to be rushed to a hospital. They talk about the charges that could be filled against Marcus. And one of the officers told a reporter that you beat the shit out of Marcus before they arrived.”
Jack winced. “Sorry. Our publicists are going to play hell working this one.”
“Mine is already on it,” Norah told him, “and he’s making you into the day-saving hero.”
“How did Emma do last night?” Alison asked.
“She slept through most of it. She would begin hurting, you could tell; she’d whimper and thrash around a bit. They’d come in a
nd give her more medicine.”
“I was able to see Marcus last night,” Roger
said. “I’m happy to announce his face isn’t a pretty
sight due to all those punches. And I’m fairly certain the cut Emma managed to give him will leave a scar.” He grinned with relish at the thought. “The son of a bitch deserves it for hurting her.”
“Do we know what the charges are?”
“Attempted murder, attempted rape, felony assault,” Roger reported and Jack nodded, satisfied, then swung an expectant face to Dr. Amos as he joined the group.
“I’ve looked her over and everything appears normal for the types of injuries she has. We’ll keep her today and tonight. If nothing creeps up, we’ll discharge her tomorrow.”
“She was in considerable pain last night,” Jack told him.
“Yes, she will be for a while. I ordered the pain meds to be given regularly last night, and on through the morning. I’ll back them off in the afternoon, see how she copes with the pain then. They will keep her sleepy.”
“How long before she can talk again?” Norah asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. As the bruising and swelling subside, she’ll regain strength in her vocal cords. It’ll take some time before her voice is at full capacity again.”
“And her other injuries?”
“The ribs will take the longest to heal. Her shoulder and wrist will be painful for a while, too. The cuts are all superficial and won’t scar; the bruises will fade over time. She’ll be stiff and sore, but she’s strong. She’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Amos.” Jack shook his hand. “I’ll take good care of her.”
“I expect you will, son. And take care of your
hand, as well.” With a smile at Jack, and a nod to the others, he left to complete his rounds.
“I’ve called off filming for the rest of the week,” Thomas announced. “Everyone needs time to settle. We’ll start up again next Tuesday.”
There was a murmur of assent and Norah said, “Chris’s plane is due at ten. I’m meeting him at the house to fill him in completely before bringing him here. I’ll sit with Emma for now, Jack.”