Church.

by Stylo Fantome

  But this isn't my moment. This is something she should be doing, and she can't, because she's dying in a heap on the floor.

  He let Margo go at the same time Jerry touched his shoulder.

  “Take her,” his father urged. “I'll stay here with Margo.”

  Margo was coughing and rubbing at her neck, smearing Church's bloody hand prints around. He glared at her for a second longer, then went back to Emma and picked her up.

  “If you ever touch her again,” he said as he moved towards the front door. “I will fucking kill you. You know I mean it. He knows I mean it. Don't test me.”

  He didn't wait for a response.

  It was an awkward drive. After getting her into the car, he'd taken off his belt and tightened it around the top of her thigh, hoping to staunch some of the blood flow. Then he drove with her feet in his lap, her knees bent, hoping gravity would help, as well.

  He didn't think it did, though. By time they were pulling into the emergency bay at the hospital, her skin was ashen, and her lips almost looked blue.

  “Don't you die on me,” he growled as he got out of the car. “Hey! Hey! I need help! She's going to bleed to death!”

  He yelled and waved at the glass entrance while he moved around the vehicle. He could see nurses running towards him, so he turned his back and opened the car door. Emma started to fall out of the vehicle, so he dropped to the ground, catching her.

  “Hey,” he said, combing his fingers through her hair. Amazingly enough, she opened her eyes. Those soft green jewels, he'd never appreciated them enough before; now he just prayed he'd get to see them again after tonight.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Please don't die, Emma,” he whispered back. She smiled and her eyes fell shut.

  “You love death. It won't be so bad,” she told him. He shook his head, then dropped his forehead to hers.

  “It will be awful. I don't love death, Emma. I love you.”

  That got her attention. It looked like it took her a lot of effort, but she finally opened her eyes again.

  “You don't know how to love,” she croaked out.

  “But you're such a clever girl,” he chuckled. “You taught me how, and I didn't even realize it.”

  To his amazement, she started laughing. At the same time, nurses and orderlies started surrounding them, yanking Emma out of his arms. Strapping her to a gurney.

  “I told you,” she laughed maniacally. “You'd either learn to love me, or I'd die. Looks like we both got our wish.”

  “She's delirious!” a nurse barked out, and they started rolling the gurney into the hospital.

  Church watched after them, not listening as another nurse asked him questions. He looked on as Emma passed out again. Stared as a doctor rushed up and started pumping oxygen into her. Then the gurney wheeled around the corner and he couldn't see anything.

  She's not delirious. She's smarter than I ever realized. She knew exactly how this was all going to end, and I never believed her.

  18

  The first time Emma woke up in the hospital, she ripped out her IV, then promptly fell out of bed.

  The second time, she did the same thing.

  The third time, she awoke to find herself strapped into her bed.

  The sunlight coming into the room was harsh. Glaring. She blinked her eyes rapidly in it, then was finally able to focus. She looked down at her side and saw padded cuffs around her wrist, which was attached to the bed rails. She yanked and pulled at them.

  “Uh uh, they're on to you now. You're not going anywhere.”

  She lifted her head sharply.

  Church was sitting at her feet, painting her toe nails.

  “I thought I dreamed you,” Emma whispered, and he gave her a big smile.

  It actually scared her a little.

  “Do you think you could dream up something as perfect as me?”

  I died. I didn't survive my suicide, and I died. Now the question is – am I in heaven, or hell?

  Before she could get an answer, a nurse bustled into the room. Church's game face was back on, no hint of a smile anywhere around his mouth as he brushed the charcoal black lacquer onto her nails. The nurse nodded at him, but he ignored her.

  “You remember what the doctor said – you only get fifteen minutes,” she said in a stern voice. He didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge her, so she turned to Emma. “How are you feeling, Ms. Hartley?”

  “Like I'm a prisoner. Take these off,” she grumbled, yanking at her restraints. The nurse shook her head.

  “I can't do that, you'll have to talk to your doctor about them. I'll be back in fifteen minutes to take you to the bathroom.”

  “I don't need to be -”

  The nurse held up her phone, showing off a timer. Then she turned it towards Church, practically shoving it in his face. This woman meant business. Once she was sure they got it, she left the room.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Emma demanded. Church cleared his throat, then slowly put the brush back into the bottle of nail polish.

  “Well, generally when people try to kill themselves, they're put on a psychiatric watch,” he informed her, leaning over her toes and gently blowing on them. She frowned.

  “With restraints?”

  “No, you earned those with your multiple escape attempts. Also ripping out your IVs, they took that as a sign of more self harm.”

  She laid flat and stared up at the ceiling.

  “If I was going to do it again,” she spoke slowly. “I wouldn't use an IV needle.”

  “What would you use? Another blade?”

  She shuddered.

  “No. Clearly that was a bad idea. I should've used Jerry's shot gun instead of his knife.”

  She was stunned when she felt Church's hand clasping hers. He'd moved up the side of the bed and was standing beside her.

  “If you had, then you wouldn't be here,” he breathed.

  “Here doesn't seem like such a good place to be,” she whispered back.

  “Why did you do this, Emma?” he asked. “We had so much greatness ahead of us.”

  “What greatness? You said we were over.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You did, you said -”

  “I said a lot of things,” he snapped. “I didn't choose my words very carefully that night, but I never said 'we'. When I said I wanted 'this' to be over, I was referring to the situation. Not you and I. Never you and I.”

  Emma struggled to swallow.

  “So it's just another thing I screwed up,” she whispered. He moaned and dropped his lips to her hand, kissing the back of it.

  “No. No, you never screwed anything up. You were perfection, just like I always said.”

  “Just like you always lied.”

  “I did, about some things. But never about that. I screwed things up, because I was too stupid to really see you, to really hear you. Well, I'm looking now. I'm listening. I won't screw up again,” he promised her. She glanced at him.

  “Does that mean we get to be together?”

  When he didn't answer right away, her mind immediately turned to sharp objects and things that go bang.

  “Not right now,” he said slowly, and he pulled his hand free of hers so he could grip the railing of her bed.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because you're a very sick girl, Emma.”

  “Says the boy who dreams of murder.”

  “Hey, you're the one who tried to smother someone to death and then filleted your own leg.”

  Ah, Church. It was nice to know that a little something like suicide didn't dull his razor sharp edges.

  “Filleted?” she cleared her throat. “Is that a medical term, Dr. Church?”

  “No, but suicide is. You're lucky. You were aiming for the femoral artery, but you only hit the vein. Still impressive, I wish you could've seen all the blood. I had to throw away my mattress. I'm very glad you never took anatomy, otherwise we might not be having t
his conversation right now.”

  “I thought it was what you wanted. I thought it would make you love me,” she said softly.

  “You did that all on your own, Emma.”

  She closed her eyes. She refused to listen to those words. Words like that had landed her in this situation.

  “I ... it's fuzzy. Did I do it? Did I kill her?” she asked. A finger traced down the side of her jaw.

  “No. You gave her a bloody nose and a black eye, you must have been pushing really hard. No one but me knows anything happened, she thinks she fell at the party.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Lucky us – if anyone thought any different, we wouldn't get a chance to ever try again.”

  Emma opened her eyes.

  “You want to try to kill her again?” she asked. Just the idea of it exhausted her.

  “No. Like I said, that time is over. Going after Lizzie ... I should've listened to you, it was a bad idea. Killing her won't change the fact that I'm the fucked up product of some fucked up parenting.”

  “So ... Christmas at your mom's house next year?” Emma asked. He laughed, and for the first time since she'd woken up, she felt her heart race a little bit.

  “I don't think so. I still haven't even officially met Lizzie. I don't know if I ever will. I told Jerry about her, but I don't know, I kinda think he already knew about her, somehow.”

  “Wouldn't shock me. Jerry is ... a wonderful surprise.”

  “That he is.”

  “So when do I get to go home? Maybe I can introduce you and your sister,” she chuckled. Church didn't laugh, though. He frowned instead.

  “Emma, it's not that simple. While you were unconscious, you were declared mentally unsound,” he told her. “Unfit to make your own decisions.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means Margo is now your legal conservator. She makes all your decisions.”

  “Oh god,” she whispered, and he nodded.

  “And she's going to keep you in here for as long as possible. I'm banned from seeing you,” he continued. “She spoke to the counselor at the college, the one you were meeting? Apparently you mentioned me once or twice or a thousand times. They think you have an 'unhealthy obsession' with me.”

  “So do I,” she managed a chuckle.

  “Me, too. It's what I love best about you,” he said. “Margo's blaming this all on me. The only reason I was allowed in to see you today is because I convinced them you wouldn't stop trying to escape until you spoke to me.”

  “So you told them the truth,” she translated. He let out a deep sigh.

  “Emma, this is serious. Unless you can convince your doctor that you're completely psychologically normal, your mother will retain control over you. Complete control. She could keep you in here indefinitely.

  Emma figured it out. This was definitely hell.

  “I just wanted to get away from her,” she said in a shaky voice, one tear escaping her eye. “Why can't I ever get away from her?”

  “You can,” Church whispered, leaning down close to her. “And you will. You just have to continue being clever. You have to convince these people you're normal.”

  She barked out a laugh.

  “Have you met me?”

  “I have. You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. You can do this.”

  “Will you be able to visit me?” she asked, feeling small and afraid.

  “No. I ... I want to, Emma. I do. But not only will they not let me, I don't think it's a good idea,” he explained. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “Everyone is worried, and not just about you, but about both of us. So many eyes looking at us means we can't get be our true selves. So first, you have to get all better.”

  “So if I get 'all better', then we can be together?” she asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

  “Oh, Emma,” he tsked. “Still so silly. We're always together. Nothing can keep us apart. This is just a momentary pause.”

  “What happens when we push play?”

  His smile was back. The grin that both excited and scared her.

  “Anything we want.”

  The nurse bustled back in, loudly proclaiming that time was up. Church lingered, squeezing Emma's hand once more, then kissing her on the forehead.

  “Don't forget me,” Emma whispered.

  “How could I forget my other half?” he whispered back. “Don't you forget that we're greatness. Just have to get through this, and then we can really see just how great we can become.”

  The nurse started getting mouthy, so he finally backed away. When he got to the door, he paused once more.

  “And Emma – when you talk to your mother? Tell her I'll be seeing her again real soon.”

  He disappeared after that, without so much as a glance back or a wave.

  While Emma was unshackled and led to the bathroom, she thought over his words. Tried to remember everything. That whole night had been a blur, she'd been so distraught. He'd been lying to her, he'd been planning to leave her. It had shattered her.

  But what had changed? It was like he was really seeing her now. That look in his eyes, the one that had started a week or so ago, it had been there the whole time he'd been in the hospital room. The shutters were gone, his soul was open to her now. Did she dare believe it?

  Once she was back in bed and cuffed to her railings, all alone with nothing to do, she kept thinking about that. About belief and trust and love. So many different things. All of her time had been spent worshiping Church. Trying to be the perfect girl for him. And all it had gotten her was lied to and a bunch of stitches in her thigh.

  Of course, it had also possibly gotten her his love. But it wouldn't be so easy for him this time. Words wouldn't be enough. It was his turn to prove himself. He could be the one jumping through hoops, he could be the one doing the convincing.

  Just the thought of it fortified Emma. She could do this. She'd literally died for Church to love her. She could do anything. She would listen to these doctors and she would learn from them and she would use them to get her freedom back.

  Then she would get out, and she'd be free. Free of her mother, free of crippling self doubt, free to be with Church in whatever capacity they could manage.

  Nine little burns replaced by one big scar. Something small became something great. I paid for his love in blood.

  Now I want some in return.

  To Be Continued ...

  MORE FROM THE AUTHOR

  THE KANE TRILOGY

  "... thanks to Stylo for getting me lost, breaking the rules, and "going there". This was fresh and dark ..." - Penelope Douglas, NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author of the Fall Away series and Corrupt

  Degradation

  Separation

  Reparation

  Completion

  Reception

  STANDALONES

  "I could not fault one moment of this story, I devoured every word and every beautiful depraved page. Days later I am still thinking about it and I know that it will be one of those books that will be etched into my soul, I honestly loved it that much." - I Love Book Love blog

  The Bad Ones

  My Time in the Affair

  Just a Little Junk

  Muscle Memory

  THE MERCENARIES

  Best Laid Plans

  Out of Plans

  The Mercenaries: Boxset

  TWIN ESTATES NOVELS

  "... only one author I know continues to blow my ever-loving mind with the sheer gutsiness and uniqueness of her stories ... Stylo Fantôme continues to write with such intelligence and verve ... once again, she delivers with a book that is hot sexy escapism at its finest." - Natasha is a Book Junkie

  Neighbors

  The Neighborhood

  Block Party

  Neighborhood Watch

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are these movies just give you a sort of haunting, chilling, eerie feeling. Byzantium, The Berlin
Syndrome, virtually anything starring Michael Pitt. You watch them and they're strange and you shouldn't like them, but you do, and they stay with you for unknown reasons. I'm always chasing that feeling, which is an almost impossible feeling to put into words.

  When I started this book, I wanted a hero who didn't speak a lot, and I was sort of hoping it would be dark. That was it. I have no clue where Emma came from, she is a force unto herself, with a very loud voice. And it steered away from dark and went well into the realm of eerie. So hey, if it ever becomes a movie, maybe Michael Pitt could have a role in it!

  Lots of people to thank, of course. Thank you Ratula, for a long friendship and a lot of laughs along the way and for always being the first to read my ramblings.

  Big thanks to Jennifer, Nanci, and Rebecca for A LOT of help with this story – it wouldn't have Church's chapters (i.e. the best parts of the whole book!) without these ladies. Thanks for late night talks and keeping me sane during this difficult book. And thank you, Barbara, for letting me escape with you ever Thursday into Drag Race.

  Thank you to Najla Qamber Designs for this AMAZING cover! Such a simple idea, and you quite literally spun it into gold, it came out even better than anything I had imagined. And to Champagne Formats, for the paperback interior formatting, you always make an interior that matches the beautiful exterior, you have an incredible eye. Of course, thank you to Give Me Books for handling all my promos and my late requests and always being on the ball.

  ALL my beta readers, who are quite possibly – half of them were new betas this time, which I always feel like introducing new ones makes for a better story. Deanna, Teri, Pam, Paige, Andrea, Alexandra, Ursula, Elizarey, Pavlina, Kolleen, Jennifer E., and Trisha, your notes helped immensely. Thanks for being so thorough and generous with your time.

  Thanks to EVERY blog who has ever supported me, thank you for giving this story a chance and for understanding its weirdness. Thank you for inviting me to signings and allowing me to travel and be a part of this community.