Pulse (Collide)

by Gail McHugh

  Unable to move, terror chained Emily to the ground as she watched him step onto the sidewalk. Panic beaded in her stomach. “I’m in the parking lot of Brody Elementary School. I have an order of protection against my ex, and he’s here.”

  “What’s your name?” the dispatcher questioned. Her tone was so insanely calm, it scared Emily. Staring at Dillon, Emily swallowed, her words stuck in her throat. She didn’t answer. “Miss? Are you still there? I need your name.”

  With each uneven breath Emily took, and memories warning her mind, Dillon’s whispered threats pulsated through her thoughts. “You’ll force me to hurt you both.”

  Both…

  Her natural instinct to run turned into something else. Sliding her phone closed, Emily waded through her dread of him being there as her fear bubbled into anger. She had pure, honest, and good now with Gavin, and she understood the evil in Dillon more so. She had happiness beyond comprehension and loathed the misery she’d once allowed. She had pleasure and no longer endured pain. Though she felt as if she couldn’t breathe and a clamor of nerves danced in her gut, the desire to no longer remain his prisoner, or allow him to hurt Gavin, overtook her. She stepped forward, her shaky legs leading her straight in Dillon’s direction.

  Standing just beyond the chain-link fence surrounding the school, Dillon cocked his head to the side. He sent her a shark’s smile, all teeth. “I’ll repeat it for you, so maybe you’ll understand this time. I’m not on the property. I’m on the sidewalk. I may not have measuring tape with me, but I’m good at math. I’m still more than a hundred feet away.”

  “The cops are coming, Dillon.” She meant the words to sound strong, but somehow Emily sensed he knew they weren’t.

  “I loved you, and you actually made me hate you,” he growled, his eyes liquid poison. “How could you do this to me? I took care of you and you fucking embarrass me the way you did?”

  “You think you took care of me?” Shocked, Emily stared at him, her tone sharpening. “You know what? I take that back. For a while, you had me convinced you were taking care of me, but you had me fooled. You knew what I went through as a child. What I saw. You promised you’d never turn into those men, and you did. I just didn’t realize it when it started happening. You used my mother’s death against me. You knew I was vulnerable, and you ate it up. That’s not love. That’s sick and twisted. And just a bit of information for you, Dillon. Love’s not being embarrassed at what happened. Love’s being heartbroken over the way things ended between us.”

  “You don’t think I’m fucking hurt?” He went to step forward but stopped.

  “No,” Emily answered. “I don’t think you’re hurt. I think your ego’s bruised. You never loved me. Never.”

  Fists balled at his sides, he clenched his teeth. “I did love you, but you fucked my friend!” Emily felt that all too familiar fear creeping back in. She fought against it as she continued to stare at the man who’d meant everything to her before he tore them apart. “And just a bit of information for you, I didn’t use your mother’s death against you. You fell the fuck apart, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I did the best I could.”

  “Did you think I wasn’t going to fall apart?” Emily choked back a sob. “She was my mother, Dillon! My mother!”

  Dillon shrugged, a wicked chuckle flying past his lips. “Your relationship with her was strained. Give me a break.”

  Emily eyes went wide, her pulse thudding wildly. “What does that have to do with anything? Strained or not, she was all I knew.” Emily paused, unable to believe the monster he’d hidden beneath a camouflage of good for so long. “You’re a fake. A chameleon. Where, in that shallow heart of yours, did you even conjure up the ability to do what you did for her before she died? Tell me. Because I can’t begin to even understand it.”

  “Neither can I.” Another shrug as his darkened eyes stared into hers. “As fucked up as she was, she didn’t deserve my help. No wonder you gave up on her right before she died. Even you knew the mess she was. You couldn’t even help her. Or should I say—didn’t want to help her.”

  Even though she knew he was continuing his rampage to hurt her, Emily’s world stopped, anger coiling deep in her veins. “Go to hell,” she hissed. “You’re cut from your mother’s evil flesh. It’s obvious you enjoyed being in jail because you’re about to go back. This time, it’ll be longer than a few days. I only wish they could drag her with you for giving birth to such an asshole.”

  “Fuck off, whore,” he growled. “I’m not going to jail. I know my rights and my limits.” He leisurely rocked back on his heels. “Again, I’m on the sidewalk, and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it, Emily. Not one fucking thing.” He looked down the block at a group of teenagers crossing the street and brought his eyes back to hers, the malice in them pinning her like a target. “That is… unless you want to call Gavin and tell him I’m here.” Pausing, he shook his head and laughed. “Now, that would be some fun. I’ll go back to jail—and enjoy every single second—knowing you had to watch me beat his ass to a fucking pulp right here on this very sidewalk. That’d be worth a few nights of my freedom.”

  As though he’d turned on a switch in her head, something inside her shifted, something words couldn’t describe. She clenched her canvas bag, her fingers digging into her palm. She made her voice sound unaffected though she felt anything but. “That’s right, Dillon, idle threats. Something you’ve always been good at.” She cocked a brow, feigning disinterest. “You barely draw blood. I, out of anyone, would know that. Right?” She lifted her hand, rubbing the spot on her lip where he’d hit her. “Just so you know, it barely stung. My first graders can throw a better punch.”

  “You fucking cunt,” came his retort, the words spewing out of him as if they tasted of acid. Mindful to remain on the sidewalk, he inclined his head and spit at her.

  It didn’t reach, but Emily didn’t dodge it either. She stayed as still as stone. Her breath rattled in her throat as she stared at him, her heart thumping. A man’s voice caught her attention. Stepping back, she watched an officer ease from a patrol car, the casualness in his stride unnerving.

  Hands on his hips, deep lines gouged his face as he approached. “What’s going on here?”

  Emily shoved her hand in her purse, pulling out her court documents. “I have an order of protection—”

  “Nothing,” Dillon said. “She’s wasting your time.” He shot Emily a glare, and yanked his wallet from his back pocket. “Here’s my PBA card.” He passed the card through the fence. “My uncle’s been a detective at the Brooklyn North narcotics in Bed-Stuy for the last twenty years.”

  The officer looked it over. He nodded, a smile lifting his mouth. “Look at that.” He slid the Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association card back through the fence. “I bet he knows Anthony Armenio.”

  “I grew up with Anthony Jr. and Anna.” Dillon looked into Emily’s eyes, his stare cold as he slipped the card back into his wallet. “My uncle used to bring me down to the—”

  “Excuse me,” Emily interrupted, shoving the documents into the officer’s hand. “I hate to interfere with this friendly conversation, but he’s violated an order of protection from the court.”

  “I haven’t violated anything,” Dillon argued, a smirk pulling at his lips.

  Patience depleted, Emily snapped her head in Dillon’s direction. “Yes, you have! You’re not supposed to fucking be here!”

  “Hey, hey,” the cop warned as he glared at Emily. “Calm down.”

  “I will not calm down,” Emily rebuked, flicking her eyes to his badge. “It’s your job to keep him away from me, Officer McManus.” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “Please do the job my tax dollars pay for, and take a look at the order.”

  With a lift of his brow, the cop rubbed his chin. Aggravation danced over his features, but nonetheless he tore his stare from Emily’s. Looking at the papers in his hand, and appearing to be in no hurry, he flipped through them. “He has
n’t violated this order, Miss Cooper.” He handed the papers back to her. “As far as I can tell, you may have violated the order, though.”

  “What?” Emily questioned, her eyes wide. “How did I violate the order? He showed up at my place of employment.”

  “No, he didn’t,” the cop corrected, pulling out a small pad. As he scribbled on it, Emily looked at Dillon. He sent her a smug smile. “It says Mr. Parker can’t step foot on Brody Elementary School’s property,” the cop continued, his white hair blowing in the frigid air. He ripped the small piece of paper from the pad and handed it to her. “As far as I can tell, he hasn’t. He’s right outside of the property on a sidewalk owned by the city. But what I’m wondering is why you’re so close to the fence. Now, unless Mr. Parker has some kind of magical powers that made you float across the parking lot, you willingly approached him.” Emily opened her mouth, but the cop cut her off. “That paper you’re holding’s a warning. You get another one of those, and your order of protection will be rescinded.” The cop didn’t say any more. He turned on his heel, heading for his patrol car. Once settled into his seat, he lowered the window and smiled. “Mr. Parker, I’m going to sit here until you leave, but I’m starving, so make it quick.”

  Smirking, Dillon nodded and turned toward Emily. Keeping his voice low, he dug his hands into his pockets and slowly backed away. “I never make idle threats, Emily. Remember that.”

  As Dillon did an about-face, crossing the street and slipping into his Mercedes, the fear Emily was trying to remove prickled across her skin. It anchored her, seeding deeper than before. Clenching the paper she so easily assumed signified her protection, Emily watched Dillon and the officer drive away. The cocoon of her past unraveled right before her eyes. However, a beautiful butterfly didn’t spring free. Instead, an emotionally unhealthy woman was left standing in the parking lot alone, her delusional thought that she would be all right a distant blur. There would never be reprieve from Dillon’s mayhem. A machine had replaced his heart somewhere along the way, and she knew in that very second, she would never be truly safe from him.

  “Hey, you can’t just walk in here like that.” Olivia rose from the couch. She placed her hands on her hips, a playful smile breaking out across her face. “You’re no longer a resident, and besides, I was just having sex in the middle of the living room.”

  “I moved out three days ago.” Emily looked at her with a raised brow. “And you’re having sex by yourself, fully clothed?”

  Olivia shrugged. “I have my ways.”

  Emily dumped her belongings on the foyer table. She slid off her coat, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator. “You have no idea what happened,” she said, taking a seat at the table.

  Olivia squinted and studied her a moment. “Okay, I’ve seen this expression before. Please don’t tell me you and Gavin are already having problems.” She plopped down on a chair across from Emily. “If so, I swear, I’m writing you both off. Besides, you two already have plans to spend Christmas at your sister’s house. Surely you’re not going to fuck up the holidays.”

  “Gavin and I are fine.” Shaking her head, Emily’s nerves caught again. “Dillon came to the school today.”

  “You called the police, right?” Olivia asked, impatient. “He’s back in jail?”

  “No. He’s not. I did call the police, and the asshole who showed up said I was in the wrong, not Dillon.”

  For once, Olivia seemed almost speechless. Almost. “What? I don’t understand. How could you be in the wrong? That makes no fucking sense. The order’s supposed to protect you, not him.”

  Emily sighed. “I walked over to where he was standing behind the fence.”

  Olivia’s eyes went wide. “Why would you even attempt getting that close to him? You know what he’s capable of. If Dick-wad’s showing up at the school, who knows what he planned on doing?”

  “Maybe that’s the point, Olivia. Maybe for a second, I didn’t want him having the power to make me afraid of what he would do to me.”

  Olivia blew out a puff of air and crossed her arms. Leaning back, she peered out of the kitchen window and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “You need to tell Gavin.”

  “I know.” Emily’s stomach lurched, but withholding the truth from Gavin was no longer an option. “We had plans to go out to dinner tonight, but I sent him a text and told him I didn’t feel well. I’ll tell him when I get home.”

  With a weary smile, Olivia reached for Emily’s hand. “I’m thinking you’d better stop off and pick up a few bottles of wine on your way. It might ease the reaction when you tell him.”

  Snorting, Emily stood. “Right. Gavin drunk when I tell him won’t make the situation any better.”

  “I didn’t mean him. I meant you.” Olivia rose and shrugged. “You’re the one who’s going to need a few glasses. He’s going to bug the fuck out, but I’m sure you know this.”

  She did. Anxiety settled over Emily, but before she could dwell on what she was about to face, a flutter of movement in the hallway caught her gaze. “Is Tina here?”

  Olivia bit her lip and shook her head.

  “Trevor?”

  Remaining quiet, Olivia shook her head again and smiled.

  Emily’s forehead crinkled about the same time a tall, slender man sauntered into the living room, sporting nothing more than Olivia’s finest pink cotton towel.

  “Oh, shit. I didn’t know anyone was here,” the unnamed guest said, sliding a rugged hand through his damp, chocolate-colored hair.

  He went to turn around, but Olivia swiftly made her way over to him. She stood on her tiptoes, placed a luscious, lingering kiss on his lips, and linked her arm in his.

  Dragging Mr. Fluffy Pink Towel to the kitchen, Olivia smiled. “Emily, this is Jude. Jude, this is my best friend, Emily.”

  After snapping her mouth shut, Emily reached out to shake the hand Jude extended. “Uh… hi. It’s nice to meet you,” Emily said, trying to keep the greeting from sounding like a question.

  With a smile highlighting his pearly whites and light green eyes, Jude hooked his thumb in the towel, cinching it tighter to his waist. “Yeah, you too. Sorry. I’d figured the first time we met I’d be wearing clothes.”

  “Why?” Olivia asked, curling under his arm. She ran her hand down his hardened abdomen. “I like showing these off.”

  Jude grinned, pulling Olivia in for a long, drawn out kiss.

  “I have some running around to do,” Emily said, her desperation to get out of there mounting by the second. “It was nice meeting you, Jude. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “Cool. Without a doubt,” he replied, breaking the kiss. He headed down the hall, leaving Emily and Olivia alone.

  “Well,” Olivia drawled, “what do you think? I have my own certified eye-candy now, huh?”

  Emily pulled on her jacket and slung her purse over her shoulder, a smile toying on her lips. “Where did you meet him, and what happened to Tina?”

  Olivia shrugged. “She was too quiet for me, and her family wasn’t exactly fond of the whole girl-on-girl thing.” Walking Emily to the door, her eyes gleamed with sudden light. “Jude came into the gallery looking for a piece, and somehow I convinced him to let me paint him… naked.”

  Emily laughed, quickly covering her mouth. “You painted a portrait of him naked?”

  “No, friend.” Olivia tossed her arm over Emily’s shoulder, her smile as wicked as the devil himself. “I painted on his body while he was naked.”

  “You crack me up. You know that?” Emily pulled her in for a hug. “You really do, and I adore you for it.”

  “Oh, I crack myself, but I love the way Jude cracks me more.” Olivia released Emily and elbowed her ribs. “Catch my drift?”

  “Yes, I catch your drift, nutter.”

  Olivia gave a satisfied smile. Opening the door, her features sobered. “Call me tonight, and let me know how things went, okay?”

  Emi
ly nodded, reality coming fast into view. “I will.” She stared at Olivia a moment before her eyes swept over her first home in New York. “I love you, Liv.”

  “Love you, too.”

  As she stepped into the hallway, leaving her past behind her, Emily felt a surge of unease about her future. But nonetheless, she knew she had to face it. No longer hiding and slowly beginning to change, nothing would chain her to herself… but herself.

  And this… this she wouldn’t allow.

  The smell of garlic bread coated the air as Emily opened the door to the penthouse. Nervousness raced up her arms when Gavin came into view, but it faded as he started toward her, his smile slow and deliciously sexy.

  His gaze slid lazily over her as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you feeling any better, or do I need to play doctor tonight?” He smoothed his hands down her waist. “Although the latter could be very fulfilling for us both, I’d rather you be healthy.”

  Butterflies swarmed Emily’s stomach. “I’m sure it’d be more than fulfilling,” she replied, her eyes trained on the mouth she so desperately wanted to kiss. Giving in to the temptation, she edged up on her tiptoes and did just that. She lingered in the moment his lips melted over hers.

  “Mmm, I take it you are feeling better,” he said, backing her out of the foyer and into the living room. Lips still locked, he slipped her purse from her shoulder and dropped it onto a moving box behind the couch. “But don’t think you’re getting off so easily. I have the whole doctor set up in my closet, complete with stethoscope and white thigh highs for those pretty legs.”

  Emily reared her head back, curiosity swimming in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “No, but I can make a quick run to Kiki De Montparnasse on Greene Street to pick out something naughty for you if you insist.”

  Emily giggled. “Did you just speak French?”

  Gavin smiled, his dimple deepening his cheek. “Yes… As a matter of fact, I speak it fluently. I have a very talented tongue.” He brushed his lips over hers, teasing lightly. “But that’s not something you wouldn’t know already. I love the thought of you in white thigh highs, but I have to admit I prefer you in black.”