The shimmery black fabric leaves my whole back exposed. If I have to bend forward, it will just slip right off. There’s nothing holding it to me. When the door opens again, I cross my arms in an attempt to stick the material to me.
Colton. I’ve only ever seen Katia. My heart launches into my throat at the sight of him.
“Your boyfriend’s late, babe. He better show,” he growls at me. The room feels too small with him blocking the only exit. Then he nods for me to follow him, and relief crawls up my spine. “Let’s go.”
My heart starts out heavy and slow, too slow. Aiden’s never late. He’s punctual. Maybe something happened? And then my nerves kick in and my heart rate soars sky-high, making me dizzy and nauseous.
I’m not the only girl. I color code us by our dresses. The smallest of us, Purple, looks terrified, to the point that she might faint. She’s at the far end as they line us up against a wall. I wonder if I look like that, like I might pass out from fear. I wish I could, and only wake up when it’s all over. My eyes stretch wide when I recognize one of the girls from Aiden’s missing screen. I open my mouth but when Colton shoves me against wall, I snap it closed with fear.
“Stand still,” Colton hisses at me. I duck my head away from him and nod shakily.
They say everything happens for a reason. Maybe the thing with my mother was to prepare me for this moment, so I wouldn’t move, so I’d stay calm – years of training for this horrid moment.
We’re at a different place. There’s an empty pool to my right. I try to take in as much as I can. There’s no music. There are boulders that look like they drop down an embankment. I don’t dare look behind me to see what the house looks like.
As soon as I find a rock to focus on, a guy runs past me and I hear a strangled cry. The girl wearing blue grabs hold of him, and weeps in his arms.
I keep standing and watching as they come, one after the other, and the place starts to fill up. I squeeze my back into the wall, wishing it would swallow me. All the girls cry. I can’t manage anything past the lump in my throat. It’s lodged so hard it’s starting to cramp when I breathe.
My mind is racing fast while everything moves in slow motion around me.
I think crazy things.
I think how I should’ve spoken to my mother and father. They are still my parents.
I think how I should’ve told Aiden I love him. At least I told Chloe. I should’ve written a last letter to my gran.
I straighten myself out and fold my hands in front of me. And I look down. I picture Aiden, because the eagle soaring doesn’t help any more. I picture Aiden, only he calms me down.
~*~
Shouting. I hear many voices, all at once, and I cover my ears. People start to run, and I see men dressed in dark blue. I see guns.
Panic hits my chest so hard, it slams my breath right out of my lungs. Fingers dig hard into my arm and my body moves in three parts, first my arm as it’s being yanked, then my chest and finally my legs realize they have to move, or I’ll fall.
My vision becomes tunneled as I see the fighters, the ones who came to get their women, being thrown down into the dirt by the men in blue. Their hands are being tied behind their backs with something that looks like cable ties, not even handcuffs. I turn my head and follow the hand up from my arm to Colton’s distressed face.
My tongue numbs with fear and I know I won’t be able to scream for help, it will really be like one of those dreams where nothing comes out. You open your mouth and it’s a horrific silence.
Colton stops dragging me and I stumble. I hit the ground hard, it’s dry, scraping at my hands and legs. Shocked, I look at the chaos around me, women crying, men yelling, others looking panic-stricken at being caught.
Colton yells something next to me and I flinch at the volume of his voice.
“Let me see your hands. Let me see your hands,” Someone else yells.
The words are loud. I see the gun pointing at Colton and dumbstruck I stare down at my scraped hands.
“Your hands!” he yells again, scaring me halfway to death.
Colton hits the floor right next to me. He grunts as someone presses a knee into his back, restraining his hands with cable ties .
“Emma?” My eyes dart up. I see Zac. I see him on top of Colton, but I can’t move.
He’s dressed in chinos with a button-up shirt. He’s wearing a black armoured vest. I watch him yank Colton up. I watch as he keeps his gun trained on him. I don’t understand how I can take all of this in.
Remember what I said about fear? About it making you numb?
I feel so many prickles. Tiny prickles start over my scalp, and then they run over my eyes and cheeks. Prickles become the sum of my being, and I turn my face away from Zac and Colton. I don’t want to see them, or the gun.
Aiden. My whole being breathes his name.
My eyes jump to his hand holding the gun, and I watch him holster it. The only thing about him that looks familiar is his face. He is dressed like Zac. He holds out a hand to me, palm first, and I see the ink curl around his wrist.
Then my view of Aiden disappears as someone moves between us.
“Aiden,” I whisper to make him real again. “Aiden,” I scream as the panic hits, gripping my chest until it aches.
He moves fast, kneeling over me. “Emma,” he breathes my name, and his hands hover over me, not touching. “I should’ve brought a jacket,” he says. He moves away and grabs hold of one of the men in blue. The man shrugs out of his jacket. He comes back, tucking my arms into it before he picks me up.
I just keep looking at him, scared he’ll disappear if I blink.
~*~
I have to answer questions. Zac and another man ask them, because Aiden’s not allowed to. I only get to go home later, after an argument. They want me to go for a check-up. I’m fine, I want to go home. I can take care of myself.
Aiden is angry. I’m cold and tired. We don’t talk.
I head straight for my bedroom when we get home. I drop the jacket and dress in the room and only stop when I reach the shower. At first I wash, even though the scrapes burn – I wash, needing to rid myself of the awful week’s memories. But then I sink down in the corner, wishing I could cry. I still can’t, and the ache in my chest keeps building up.
So I stare, and pretend the drops of water pelting me are tears.
The water stops, and I glance up. Aiden takes the towel and hunches down. His gun is gone. It’s the first thing I notice.
But he’s still in his work clothes. He doesn’t feel like my Aiden any more. He’s someone else now.
He wraps the towel around me, and I get up so I can dry my hair and get dressed.
“I fixed you something to eat,” he says, “and you need to phone Chloe. Just let her know you’re okay.”
I nod. Once I’m dressed in my own clothes again, I follow him out to the kitchen to eat.
But everything feels fake.
I feel hollowed out.
~*~
I’m drained. I want to sleep, but I know Chloe will worry. She sounds tearful when she answers.
“Emma?”
“Hey, Chloe,” I don’t know what else to say.
“Are you alright? What happened?”
“Oh, you know me, I just got myself into a hot spot and Aiden had to save me.” I try to shrug it off. I can’t tell her what really happened. I’m not one to talk about things. Once they are over and done with, I leave them in the past. I don’t allow myself to dwell on things. I won’t survive that way. “How are things on your side?”
“Oh, Emma!” She bursts out crying, and it’s only then I realize she’s been calling me by my name.
“What’s wrong, love?”
When Aiden comes into the room, I get up and walk over to the window.
“It’s my mum,” she sobs. I wait patiently for her to talk. “She’s gone.”
I don’t know if it’s from the shock but I don’t understand what she’s saying.
“Chloe?�
� I whisper.
“She gave up on me, Emma! She’s dead.” She takes a shaky breath. “I hate to ask this, but I need you-“
I stop her. “Of course! You don’t have to ask. I understand. Take something to sleep. I’ll ring you in the morning so we can discuss the details.”
“You know you’re the best, right?” she says my line back to me.
“No, you’re the best.” It’s all I can say.
I avoid Aiden’s eyes as I crawl into bed next to him. I have to go home. Chloe needs me. My dream with him has come to an abrupt end.
~*~
I wake up screaming.
“Sweetheart, you’re safe.” I hear the words as another scream builds up in me.
Aiden’s mouth covers mine and I taste him.
Aiden.
I reach for him and feel his skin under my hands. Frantically I grab for him, his face, his chest, his arms, everywhere I can touch him.
My breaths are torn gasps of need. I need to know he’s real. I need to know he’s alive.
“I’m here, Emma,” he whispers against my mouth. “You’re safe.”
I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on tightly, and I breathe him in.
I wake up that way. I’m on top of Aiden with my arms tightly around him and my knees tucked up next to his waist. I can’t feel my hands. They are dead.
I lift my head and drag my arms out from under him. I have an awful feeling in my stomach. I start to get off him, and his arms tighten around me.
“Just a little longer,” he mumbles with his eyes closed.
“We have to talk,” I murmur. I know what the awful feeling is.
It’s the fact that he’s solved this case and he’ll be moving on to whatever the next one is. It’s the fact that I have to leave. It’s the fact that our lives are now at crossroads.
“We do,” he agrees.
He rolls us onto our sides so that we are lying face to face, but I can’t do this facing him, and I tuck my head in under his chin.
“Tell me what you dreamt about?” he asks, before I can get my bearings together on where to start the talk.
“Just a nightmare,” I say, trying to get around talking about it.
“No. Not the way you were screamin’, Emma. This was different to the others you had before. Tell me,” he pushes.
“You. It was about you. Just let it be. We need to talk about other things.” I try to steer the subject away from the dream.
“What did I do in your dream,” he asks, not letting it go.
“You died. I know it’s just a dream. So, when are you going home? Where is home exactly?” I just jump into the next subject – the problem at hand.
“I’m not gonna die, Emma,” he whispers. “Just cause I’m a cop, you can’t go worryin’ about that. I could get run over by a car while I’m out running just as easily. I’ll go when it’s my time, whether it’s old age, someone else’s hand or lightnin’.”
I nod, and swallow hard on the lump in my throat. He’s right.
“We have to wrap things up tomorrow with the office here, before we report back in South Carolina to our own department. We were only helping, like a loan kinda thing, because they couldn’t use their own guys, with them being recognizable and all, and it being part of our case. We work the Lyman and Duncan area.” He takes a breath and I steel myself. “We’ll be heading back on Tuesday.”
I nod. I’m nodding.
“How far is it from here?” I whisper.
“About two hundred and twenty miles,” he says, and he tries to pull me back, but I dig in deeper under his chin.
“How many hours is that?” I clear my throat.
“It’s just shy of a four hour drive,” he explains.
“Oh.” I deadpan.
“I was thinking we could drive through today, so I could show you where I’m from. You can meet my folks, if you’re up for it.” Silence follows his suggestion.
The seconds tick over into minutes. I’m counting seconds and minutes, and I should be thinking about what he just said. I should be telling him I’m going home.
“Alright,” I agree, because if we stay here I might go mental. I’ll go and meet the people who raised him. I’ll see what a loving family is like. I’ll get one last piece of him before I leave.
~*~
Chapter Sixteen
Aiden~
She doesn’t look like she’s been through hell. She doesn’t look like she’s in shock. She just looks sad. We’re minutes from my place. I thought it would be good if we stopped here first, before going through to my folks.
She’s chewing on her lip, and I can understand she’s nervous, but not why she’s sad.
“Things won’t change, Emma,” I break the silence that’s killing me. “I’m gonna drive through to see you every weekend. I don’t like the idea of you being alone during the week, but for now we have to make do.”
She starts shaking her head, and then looks out the window.
I keep quiet and concentrate on getting us to my house before I have an accident. I pull up in the drive and she takes deep breaths.
“It’s my place. We’re stopping here first. No folks yet. Relax.” I smile at her, but her eyes go huge instead.
“Yours?” she squeaks.
I park the car, and watch her closely as she stares at my home.
“It’s not going to bite you, Emma. It’s just a house.” I try to put her at ease.
I get out and walk around the car to open her door. When I do, she gets out slowly and steps away from me.
“Your garden is … exquisite,” she says, as she glances around at the aloes and cycads I have spaced out between rock gardens.
“Thank you. It’s a hobby.” I want to reach for her, but she takes another step away, as if on instinct, and walks around me, looking at the house. It’s a two story I’m still trying to make my own.
When I open the door she smiles nervously. It feels like I’ve lost her, and my heart clenches painfully. She waits in the foyer, looking up at the stairs. I hate that she’s uncomfortable in my home.
“Emma.” Her name comes out a groan. The past week has just been too much. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.”
She glances at me, and then back into the house.
“I wasn’t expecting this. I was expecting to meet your parents … to have other people around us.” She murmurs the last part and I almost don’t catch it. “This is your home,” she swallows, “you have a home.”
I’m so missing something here.
“Is there something wrong with me havin’ a home?” The second I finish the sentence I realize what’s wrong. I’m really a dumbass. “Don’t answer that,” I say quickly and move in on her. “Emma, it’s just a house. A home is about the people in it.” I need to keep quiet, I’m making this worse.
“I know, and it’s great that you know where you’re heading in life and that you have a home and that -” she shudders a breath and steps back, away from me and into the wall. “And I’ll never be able to tell you how much the time you’ve given me means to me.” I want her to stop.
I place my hands next to her head and lean in. “Don’t say it. We’ll find a way.”
She says it anyway. “I have to go back. I can’t study further. My visa is only valid if I’m actually attending the university.”
I frame her face and press my forehead against hers. There’s a twisting in my gut. I have to get her to stay.
“I’ll fix your visa. We’ll get it changed. You can’t go back, not to that.” I’m a second away from begging her. I can’t protect her if there’s an ocean between us.
“I have to,” she whispers. “I don’t know where my life is going. I have to start working as well. I can’t keep studying and I can’t work here. I have to go back to my own country. This is not my country. I don’t fit into your world. You’re way ahead of me. The gap is too big.”
“We will find a way to bridge the gap. We started our relationship bac
kwards, and now that everythin’ is clearin’ out of the way and we can start with the normal, now you want to go?” I ask. It’s starting to sink in. She’s really doing this.
“How do we bridge this gap, Aiden? You’re the law. My visa should’ve been revoked already, the second my mother cut me off. One of the requirements for a visa is finances, another is me actually having to study. I’m not studying, and my mother cancelled the credit card weeks ago, so this …” her voice starts to tremble, and I move in as close as I can.
“It’s all things I can take care of, if you’d just let me,” I try again.
She stares at me, and I can see there’s something she’s not telling me. Then she nods, but I don’t feel better, because her eyes are still telling me goodbye.
~*~
I watch her every move as we walk through the house. She stops in the den and looks up at the high ceiling. It’s my favorite room. I have my office just up the stairs, so I can come straight down here. I hardly use the rest of the house.
She walks over to the fireplace and trails her hand over the statue of the eagle I have there.
“Did you have the speakers built into the walls, or did you buy it like this?” It’s the first question she’s asked about the house.
“It came with the built-in surround sound system. I think I took it just for this room,” I answer, and she turns around, looking up again.
“Is that your office?”
She was bound to see it.
“Yes, for when I’m home.”
Her expression changes and I glance up. “You have books,” she says, and starts toward the stairs.
“I do,” I say. If I’d known books were the key to breaking the ice, I would’ve taken her straight to my office.
She can speed-climb stairs too.
I was wrong. That thing I said about Emma’s expression when she saw the eagle being imprinted in my memory as the best one. I was so wrong.
She slows down when she reaches the top stair, and she changes before my eyes. Her features become more delicate and gentle. She softly touches the spine of each book.
“You have Edgar Allen Poe,” she whispers, and the awe is unmistakable. “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality,” she quotes Poe. “You didn’t tell me you read.”
Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries) Page 16
