For Emery (For You Book 4)
Page 10
“What’d I ever do to you, Grady?” Flip asked, as if I attacked him.
The bastard’s acting chops were stellar.
“Grady!” Coach shouted. “Get on the bench.”
I looked to Flip now conveniently cupping his nose with his hand. The team doctors rushed over to him. Of course they did. They needed to check that their fragile golden boy was okay.
I trudged off the field with the skin around my eye swelling up and beginning to throb. I slumped down on the bench. Someone shoved an ice pack at me. I held it to the side of my face for all of two seconds then dropped it to my side. I was no wuss.
“I did not say it was okay to hurt him,” Coach hissed through clenched teeth as he stood in front of me.
“Whatever,” I mumbled like a sullen child, averting his gaze.
“Whatever? Is that what you’re gonna say when I bench your ass?”
I glared up at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wanna call my bluff?”
I sat there stewing. I did not start that out there. But fucking Flip did a damn good job of making it look that way. Was he that intimidated by me? Or was his beef with me really over Emery?
“Put ice on that before you can’t see out of it,” Coach ordered, before storming away from me.
Abbott took a seat next to me. “Dude. You gotta relax.”
“Dude,” I said mimicking him. “You gotta back the fuck off me.”
“All I’m saying is if we all fought you every time you said something to piss us off, we never would’ve been a cohesive unit over the past three years. Guys say shit. They say shit to piss each other off. Then they move on.”
“I hate him.”
“Maybe so. But we’re relying on him to take us to the big game like Caden did. If you keep messing with him, you’re gonna ruin it for all of us. And dude, I need us to win.” Abbott stood up, purposely letting his words sit with me as he walked onto the field.
As shitty as it was to admit, these guys were at Alabama for a reason. This was their stepping stone to the pros. I couldn’t let my hatred for Flip ruin the way I played. Because if I screwed up, I screwed it up for everyone. Including myself.
At three-thirty the whistle blew and the game began. I shut out all the voices in my head. I heard the cheers of Tennessee and let the cheers propel me to the next level. I played the game of my life. My hatred for Flip turned me into a beast out there, pouncing on anyone who moved in my way. By halftime, I’d silenced the Tennessee fans. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the only one doing a good job. But without me, Flip—and his taped-up nose—would’ve been useless. He sucked under pressure and they were gunning for him. Without me there, he would’ve been sacked ten times over. Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to eat grass at least once.
We ended up winning by fourteen. Music blared in our locker room after the game. The guys’ elation was evident in the laughter and jeering filling the room. Still pissed about the fight with Flip, I snuck away from the celebration, showering and dressing in my own space.
I slid into my seat on the bus a short while later, lifting the arm rest and spreading out so I didn’t have to share my seat with anyone else. I slipped on my headphones and pulled out my phone to find music to sleep to. Before I could find anything, a text lit up my screen.
You were amazing out there.
I grinned like a fool as my fingers typed out a response. That’s not the only place I’m amazing.
The three dots appeared for a second. Ewwwww.
I laughed and a few of the guys seated around me glanced over as I typed my response. Just playing.
I know. Have a safe trip home.
I stared down at the text imagining Emery’s excitement while watching the game on television. When we were younger, she’d jump out of her seat and scream for me, not caring who saw her. I always loved that about her.
I switched my music on and let the sounds drown out the rest of the world. I closed my eyes and reclined my chair as far back as it would go. I teetered on the verge of sleep as the bus lurched, pulling away from the stadium. Someone walking down the aisle slammed into my elbow on the armrest. My eyelids flew open and my head came up. Flip stood there, his eye bruised and nose swollen.
I motioned to my own nose. “You got a little something on your face.”
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe rethink your words. Last time you brought up fucking you got yourself a nice souvenir.”
“Grady!” Coach was turned around in his front seat and partially standing. “Enough! Caruso, find a seat.”
Flip moved down the aisle and I didn’t see him again for the almost five-hour drive back to campus. Just the way I wanted it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Emery
I grabbed my shower bucket and headed into the hallway, knowing I was going to be late for class if I didn’t hurry.
“Emery,” Flip called from down the hall.
I spun around, my eyes stretching wide as I took in his swollen nose and black and blue eyes. “Rough game?” I asked.
He scoffed. “You didn’t watch?”
“No, I did. You guys looked great out there.”
“All of us or just Grady?”
My brows inverted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t talked to him?”
“Since you guys got back? No.”
“So, you didn’t hear he attacked me before the game?”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
He motioned toward his face. “You think I did this to myself?”
I took in his swelling and bruising. Flashbacks of my mom over the years flooded my brain. Only, she blamed her marks on walking into a wall or tripping over a chair. But I knew the truth. And the mere recollection turned my stomach. “Why would he do that?” I asked, my voice hushed for fear of what he’d say.
“Beats the hell outta me. The guy’s a loose cannon.”
“So, he hit you for no reason?”
He shrugged. “He hates me.”
“He doesn’t just hate people. He also doesn’t just let people in. You have to earn that.”
“Sounds like you’re making excuses for him.”
I shook my head. “I’m just trying to understand. Growing up he didn’t hit people for no reason.”
“So, you’re taking his side?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m pissed he’d lay a hand on you. It’s never okay to hurt someone.”
“I’m worried he could hurt you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, sickened by even the thought of it. “He’d never hurt me.”
“How well do you know him, Emery?” Flip motioned to his face. “Would the guy you know do this to someone?”
Flip’s words stayed with me as I showered. So did the damage Jordan had done to his face. Did I know Jordan like I thought I did? Had I been so blinded by having him back in my life that I hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the boy I’d fallen for? Did this Jordan use violence to settle his disputes? He, of all people, knew what that did to people.
* * *
I threw my bag’s strap across my chest and headed toward the stairwell. Calculus had been exhausting. Did anyone really need all that math?
I stepped outside, caught up with the bodies moving to their next classes. It was overcast, and as I crossed campus, dark clouds rolled in—such a parallel to my mood. Flip’s words still haunted me. Still had me questioning everything. I couldn’t shake the memories his injuries elicited in me. It was as if I was that little girl again seeing my mama hurt for no reason. I’d pushed those images away over the past four years, but the fact that Jordan did that to Flip made me sick.
“Em.”
A cold shudder shot up my spine. That had never happened before when I heard Jordan’s voice. I contemplated not stopping, but I needed to hear his side. I needed him to make it all make sense to me. So I stopped, causing the rushing students to step around me. I didn’t turn around.
<
br /> Jordan caught up with me. “Hey.” He smiled with a hint of black around his eye, but his face looked nothing like Flip’s face.
“You happy with yourself?” I asked, anger brewing inside of me.
His brows shot up. “Come again.”
“You happy you only ended up with a little bruise?”
He scoffed. “So, I see he already got to you?”
My eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What’d he tell you?”
I crossed my arms. “Why don’t you tell me.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I wanna hear the shit he’s spewing.”
“I thought you saw firsthand what violence does to people?”
“Em, this has nothing to do with your—”
“It has everything to do with you knowing better.” I held up my fist. “This solves nothing.”
“He started it.”
“You’re not ten.”
He gnawed on his bottom lip, stopping himself from saying whatever it was he wanted to say.
“And I don’t care who started it. You know better.”
He balked. “You can’t go around telling me what I can and can’t do.”
I couldn’t have stopped my jaw from dropping even if I wanted to. “I’m starting to see the truth.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not the guy I thought you were.”
“Come on, Em,” he pled. “You know me.”
I shook my head. “I thought I knew you.” I spun around and took off.
“Are you seriously walking away again?” he yelled. “We saw how well that worked out last time!”
I could feel myself getting choked up, but I wouldn’t allow it. I didn’t do anything wrong. He did.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emery
I spent a long night studying in the library. I’d wanted to be alone. Wanted to let the silence and old books distract me from my anger at Jordan. But nothing helped. I couldn’t understand how he could hurt Flip like that. He knew Flip and I were friends. Hell, he and Flip were teammates. Didn’t it matter to him? Did anything matter to him?
My phone rang in my back pocket as I entered my dorm room. I slipped it out, half expecting it to be Jordan pleading his case again, but it was my mom. “Hey,” I said as soon as I answered the phone.
“Emery?” she said, her hushed voice sending up red flags.
“What’s wrong?”
Raquel shot up from her bed where she’d been reading. She watched me as I paced the floor.
“He found me,” my mom whispered.
A cold chill ran through my veins. “What?”
“I’m in the hospital.”
It was as if the floor dropped out from beneath my feet and I grasped hold of my desk for support. “Are you all right?”
There was silence on her end.
“I’m coming right now.”
“It’s not safe.” Her sniffles carried through the phone. “They didn’t catch him.”
Silent teardrops slipped out of my eyes. “What did he do to you?”
Raquel jumped up and threw a sweatshirt over her pajamas. She stepped into her flip-flops, grabbed her car keys from her desk, and stood by the door. “I’ll take you,” she whispered.
“I’m coming,” I told my mom. “I’ll be on the next flight out of here.”
My mother said nothing.
She’s all I had left in this world and he tried to take her from me. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too. I’m on the fifth floor. You’ll see the police officer.”
I switched off my phone and searched the room for what I might need.
“I know there are things I don’t know about you yet,” Raquel said. “But I know you need to get to her right now. So, grab what you need and I’ll take you to the airport.”
With a hazy mind and tears that wouldn’t cease, I grabbed my wristlet, and we rushed down to her car in the student lot. As Raquel sped to the airport, I sat motionless staring out at the dark streets. Thoughts whirled around my head. What had Wayne done to her? What was he trying to do? How long had he been searching for her? For us? Was he trying to kill her? I teetered between despair and anger as tears fell.
“My mother was in an abusive relationship,” I finally said to Raquel as I stared into the darkness outside my window.
“Oh, Emery.”
“We got away from him four years ago. But somehow he found her.”
“My God. I’m so sorry.”
Not as sorry as I was that I’d left my mom alone in Arizona. Left her so I could chase a boy.
Raquel took the exit toward the airport.
My eyes finally cut to hers. “Thank you for being here for me.”
“We’re roommates. Which makes us friends. Which makes your problems my problems,” she assured me as she followed the signs to departures and pulled up to the departure doors.
I pushed open the car door and jumped out with nothing but the clothes on my back and my wristlet holding my ID, an emergency credit card, and a few dollars. I just hoped there was a departing flight soon.
“I’m gonna park and then I’ll wait with you,” Raquel said.
“They won’t let you past the security check-in. I’ll be fine.”
Her brows lifted. “Will you?”
I shrugged, the most honest answer I could give her. “I’ll call you.”
She nodded sadly as I closed the door and ran through the sliding doors into the airport. After speaking with representatives at three different airlines, I finally found a flight leaving in twenty minutes. They weren’t sure I’d make it through security and to the terminal before the gate closed, but I assured them I would.
I ran through the airport, my hair trailing behind me as if in the midst of a wind storm. I arrived at the gate as they were about to close the door. I held up my ticket. “Wait!”
And just like in the movies, they let me on.
The three-and-a-half-hour flight felt like it lasted days as I sat squished between two larger men whose bodies inched into my space. I was screaming on the inside as my foot tapped wildly beneath me. All I needed was to be with my mom. I needed to know she’d be okay. Know she forgave me for leaving her.
Since I’d brought no luggage, once the plane landed and we filed off the plane, I ran straight for the exit and stepped out onto the sidewalk searching for my car service. The hot Arizona air hit me, reminding me of the past four years spent in the state. Alabama had a breeze from time to time. Arizona’s heat stole your breath away.
Once I found my driver, I settled into the back of his car and verified my destination with him. My legs bounced as he drove toward the hospital; I felt ready to jump out of my skin. I hadn’t thought to bring a hat—or anything else that would conceal my identity. Wayne had been crazy enough to track down my mom and hurt her. He was crazy enough to be staking out the hospital waiting for me to show up.
My heart thumped at triple speed by the time we pulled up to the hospital entrance. I needed to see my mom. I needed to see what Wayne had done to put her in the hospital. “I know this is an odd question,” I said to the driver, as I assessed the area around the entrance. “But is there any way you could walk inside with me?”
His eyes narrowed in question at me through the rearview mirror.
“Someone hurt my mom. That’s why she’s here. I’m worried he may be—”
The driver threw open his door without letting me finish. “Of course.”
I released a breath, realizing kind people still existed in this world. “Thank you.”
We rushed into the lobby and right to the elevators. The driver stood with me as I waited for the doors to split apart. Once they did and we saw the elevator was empty, I stepped inside. “Thank you,” I said to him as the doors closed me inside.
As I stood alone, the elevator music sounded muffled, like I was under water. My weary reflection in the mirrored walls blurred as if
in the throes of horrible nightmare. The truth was, I was in a horrible nightmare. The wait was torture. Please don’t stop on another floor, I prayed.
The elevator bell chimed and I held my breath.
The doors split apart.
I saw that I was on the fifth floor and released my breath.
I dashed out into the empty hallway, searching left and right until I spotted the uniformed police officer seated outside the last room on the right.
He glanced up, quickly jumping to his feet and meeting me halfway down the hallway. “Emery?”
I nodded.
“Your mom said you’d be coming.”
“How is she?”
“She had a rough go at it. But she survived.”
“Survived?”
He nodded. “It was bad. But she’s a tough woman.”
“She is,” I said. “And him?” The words dripped from my mouth with as much hatred as I felt.
“He left her for dead. Our best men are working on it.”
Vomit roiled up my throat. I was a terrible daughter. A selfish daughter. I’d abandoned my mother for Alabama. For Jordan. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected her.”
“Then you’d be in the bed beside her,” he assured me. “She did a good job fending him off long enough to send an emergency call from her phone. He probably heard our sirens and ran for it.”
“Can I see her?”
He nodded. “She’s been in and out of consciousness all day. They have her on heavy pain meds.” He stepped aside so I could continue down the hallway.
My feet felt like they were submerged in quicksand as I approached her room, each step becoming more difficult. The sterile hospital scent singed the inside of my nose. The shaking in my hands had nothing on the fear I had of seeing her. I dragged in a deep breath and stepped inside the room.
My mother slept under white sheets with only her face visible. It was good she was asleep because I couldn’t hide my horror. Her face was entirely black and blue and swollen. If I didn’t know it was her, she would’ve been unrecognizable. Vomit again crept up the back of my throat as I took in the sight of my poor battered mother. Tears glazed my eyes. Rage I didn’t know I was capable of feeling spread through me.