Pulse (Collide)

by Gail McHugh

  Her every thought.

  Crying, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to pull herself back together. Dillon was no more. They were no more. He was gone. Through her daze, Emily placed the soap down, rinsed her body of not only bubbles lathering her skin, but also the malicious venom he’d poured into her soul. She stepped from the shower, reached for a towel, and pulled it around herself. Standing before the mirror, she glanced at the woman she’d part ways with. Forever.

  “Never again,” she whispered. She shook her head, smoothed her hands over her cheeks, and pressed her eyes closed. “Never.”

  After taking a moment to reflect on the insanity the day promised to bring, Emily slipped into her clothing, dried her hair, and made her way back into her bedroom. She jerked to a halt when she heard her phone buzz, the sound alerting her there was a message waiting. Taking hold, sudden anxiety it was Dillon and possible hope it could be from Gavin rushed through her mind. Swallowing, she edged toward the nightstand and, with a trembling hand, reached for her phone.

  Both her anxiety and hope evaporated upon seeing it was a voice mail from Lisa. Emily gave into the fatigue chasing her, sank onto her bed, and rested her head on a pillow. As she listened to her sister’s concerned voice, Emily heard the front door creaking open. She sat up and took in the last few seconds of Lisa’s message, notifying her that she and Michael were on their way.

  “Liv?” Emily called as she slid her phone shut. She tossed it onto the bed, ran a palm over her face, and stood to make her way into the other room. “I hope you got something to eat while…”

  She paused in the living room archway, her words trailing off. Startled, she froze, silent and alert, when she found Dillon casually leaning against the counter. His eyes traced over her as he sipped orange juice from a glass.

  “When I woke up, you were gone, Emily.” After setting down the glass, he sauntered over, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “That excited to get back here and get all prettied up so you can marry me today, huh?” He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I figured I’d stop by before I went to Trevor’s to get ready.”

  “Get away from me, Dillon,” she whispered, her voice shaky. She jerked away, trying to hide the fear rushing through her veins.

  Dillon blinked, clearing the roughness from his throat. With narrowed eyes, his face filled with confusion. “What?” he asked, stepping closer and grabbing her upper arm.

  Emily yanked it from his firm grasp, her shoulder slamming against a curio cabinet as she stumbled back. “You heard me. I said get the fuck away from me.” Her words dropped from her mouth in a low hiss. “I’m done, Dillon. This”—she pointed between them—”is over. I’m no longer your willing victim.”

  Before she knew it, he had her pinned against the wall, one hand gripping her hair as the other clenched her chin. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip and studied her. “You did fuck him, didn’t you?”

  Though a small cry pressed from Emily’s mouth from the pain searing her skull, her answer dripped out as a sneer. “Yes, I fucked him. Yes, I’m in love with him, and no, I’m not now, nor will I ever marry you.” Even as fear doused Emily’s limbs, a sense of relief and freedom took over, rooting somewhere deep inside.

  For half a heartbeat, she closed her eyes, allowing visions of Gavin to seep into her thoughts, but a hard crack to her cheek from the back of Dillon’s hand sent her eyes wide open. The sting rippled across her flesh as she thrashed her fists against his chest in an attempt to break free.

  With one hand still tangled in her hair, Dillon jostled her across the room like a worn out little toy. Landing on all fours against the wooden floor, Emily tried to stand, but Dillon grabbed her hair and forced her down.

  “You sick fuck!” she screamed, curling her hands around his wrists as he hovered above her.

  Dillon dropped to his knees and yanked her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. “After everything I’ve done for you, you turn around and fuck him behind my back?” he snarled, fisting her hair tighter.

  Pulse thudding and using every bit of her strength, Emily clawed and dug her nails into his skin as she tried to untangle his hands from her hair. “You’ve done nothing for me but break me down!” she cried. When he wouldn’t release her, a jeering smile split her face. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I wish I could’ve fucked him right in front of you!”

  Eyes glacial, hollow, and darker than the night sky, Dillon struck her face again. Emily felt the skin above her brow rip open, pain needling over her flesh. A gasp tore past her lips as warm, thick blood trickled along her temple, snaking down her cheekbone.

  Still gripping her hair, Dillon pulled her up and hauled her body against his chest. Daring to meet his eyes, Emily swallowed down fear coating her throat as Dillon pegged her with a look telling her this torture wasn’t over. With a rush of anger and adrenaline slicking through her nerves, she clawed at his face, digging her thumb nails into his eyes. Tiny slivers of blood streaked across Dillon’s lids as a howl of pain scraped from deep within his throat.

  Somewhere above the twisted havoc raking hard in her mind, Emily registered the sound of the front door swinging open, followed by Lisa’s screams. In a flurry of commotion, Michael rushed up behind Dillon, grabbing him under the arms. Michael’s movements were frantic as he pulled Dillon from Emily. Both men stumbled, their limbs flailing in every direction. Michael landed on his back on the floor. Dillon fell on top of him. The loud thud echoed through the room. Michael tossed Dillon away, rolled to the side, and sprang to his feet.

  With Lisa’s arm curled tight around her shoulders, Emily shook uncontrollably, crying as she watched Dillon stagger up from the ground.

  Michael lunged, swung his fist, and caught Dillon against his mouth. The blow split his lip. “I should’ve done this to you last night, asshole!” Michael spewed.

  As Dillon righted himself, he stumbled forward, clenching Michael’s collar. Before he could do anything, Michael’s fist landed in a continuous assault against Dillon’s face, knocking him clear to the floor.

  A clatter of voices, including Olivia’s, rang in Emily’s ears as nausea churned in her stomach. She stood frozen, her cries dying in her mouth, as she watched her apartment fill with concerned neighbors and, within a few minutes, a couple of New York City police officers. After a quick explanation from Michael, one of the cops dragged Dillon to his feet and cuffed his hands behind his back.

  “You’re a fucking whore!” Dillon wheezed, spitting a mouthful of blood in Emily’s direction. “Nothing but a fucking whore! I hope he fucks you and leaves you like all the rest, you cunt!”

  Dillon’s poisonous words pressed into Emily’s head in a violent explosion. She felt as if she were a tiny particle of dust moving in slow motion in the middle of a roaring tornado. Though insanity whirled around her in a room filled with people, she didn’t see anything… but Gavin’s face. Though one of the cops threatened to make Dillon’s overnight stay a memorable one, she couldn’t hear anything… but the thrumming of her broken heart. The only thing she could comprehend was the numbness flooding her veins.

  She freed herself from her sister’s hold and made her way toward Dillon, where he stood with a cocky smirk toying at his bloodied lip. Staring into the wicked soul of the man she’d loved for so long, the man she’d given all of herself to, and without a tear in her eye, she smacked him across the face. Unable to stop the pent up anguish from the months of hell she’d allowed him to put her through, pain erupted in her hands, down to their fragile bones, as she continued to beat her fists against his face and chest.

  “You did this to me!” she screamed, struggling against one of the officers. The officer pulled Emily back as she glared at Dillon. “I loved you, and you became everything you said you never would! And you want to know something, Dillon?” she asked, her breathing a ragged mess. With the smirk falling from his face, Dillon peered over his shoulder as an officer escorted him out of the apartment. “If Gavin does leav
e me and never talks to me again, I deserve every second of misery I’ll be in without him.”

  After Olivia knocked him in the head, Emily watched Dillon walk out of her life as quickly as he’d walked into it. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, thoughts of Gavin splintering through her heart as she fell to her knees. With her last bit of strength, Emily backed herself against the coffee table, dropped her face into her hands, and began to violently cry. Lisa sat beside her, pulled her into her lap, and cradled her head against her shoulder. As Lisa rocked her back and forth, Emily realized she’d saved herself from becoming another statistic.

  Another silent voice.

  Surprised she’d let it get so far, visions of her mother accepting the same brutal treatment from not only her father but countless other men flashed through her memory. The haunting images chilled Emily’s bones.

  “Shh, Emily,” Lisa whispered, holding her tighter. “It’s over now.”

  Olivia knelt beside them, her voice soft. “Are you okay?” She handed Emily an ice pack and opened a first aid kit. Taking out a bandage, Olivia tore it open and placed her hand under Emily’s chin. After securing a piece of gauze with medical tape over the fresh wound above Emily’s brow, Olivia frowned.

  Eyes watery, Emily nodded. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  The remaining officer walked over to Emily, his overly round physique making his uniform look ill-fitted. “Miss, I’m gonna need a statement from you. Paramedics should be here soon. They’ll take you to the hospital if you think you need to be seen.”

  “No.” Emily brought the icepack up to her swollen cheekbone. She flinched as it made contact with her skin. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

  “That’s fine,” the officer replied, looking at a clipboard. “You can refuse treatment when they get here, but they still need to show up because it was a domestic violence call.”

  Michael sat on the ottoman, his expression piqued in question. “Emily, I think you should go get checked out.”

  “I agree,” Lisa said, concern brimming in her eyes.

  Emily rose, trying to rein in the discord fucking with her mind. She moved unsteadily across the living room to check if Gavin had called back. Lisa and Olivia scrambled to their feet and followed her into her room.

  “Em,” Olivia said. She lightly grabbed Emily’s arm, confusion creasing her forehead. “Why don’t you want to go?”

  Emily turned away and pushed her hands through her hair. She reached for her phone, her heart dipping when she saw she didn’t have any missed calls from Gavin. “I said no, Olivia. I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she slumped onto her bed. “I’m fine. I just need some aspirin and sleep.”

  Olivia’s lips formed into a hard line. She looked over to Lisa, her expression showing equal worry.

  Lisa crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “Emily, I swear, you can be so stubborn sometimes.”

  “I know,” Emily whispered. “But really, I’m fine.”

  Olivia lifted her head and exhaled toward the ceiling. Bringing her attention back to Emily, she placed a hand on her hip. “You want to know the only reason why I’m not going to push this issue further with you, friend?”

  Emily pressed her eyes closed and shook her head. “Why, Olivia?”

  “Well, that would be because you gave Duckleberry-Finn a pretty decent beat-down before his ass was hauled outta here.”

  Emily lay back, rolled to her side, and hugged her knees to her chest. Normally, she would’ve found Olivia’s comment somewhat funny. But not now. She couldn’t. It was all she could do to muster a reply.

  “Right,” Emily said, sadness clouding her voice. She brought the ice pack up to her cheek. Eyes steeped in pain from her discomfort, she stared at Olivia. “I guess I did.” Emily inhaled a deep breath, grabbed her blanket, and pulled it over her body. “When the paramedics get here, send them in. But right now, I just need to rest.”

  Though concern still showed on their faces, Olivia and Lisa nodded. Without another word, they walked out of the room.

  Over the next half hour, Emily filled out the necessary paperwork from the officer and refused treatment when the paramedics eventually showed up. Once the room became quiet and her thoughts finally started to settle, her eyes came to rest on her phone. Picking it up, she stared at it, her face paling when she saw it was void of any messages from Gavin. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks.

  Knowing she had to explain the hurt she’d inflicted upon him, she dialed his number. She chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to it ring. When his voice mail picked up, she went to close her phone but stopped. Worry plagued her, and an ache for him, so deep, tightened in her chest.

  “Gavin… I… It’s Emily,” she whispered, trying not to trip over the emotions climbing up her throat. “I don’t expect you to talk to me ever again, but I need to say a few things.” Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she continued. “Dillon diminished my sense of feeling alive, Gavin. But you… you brought that back to me. When Gina opened the door that morning, I…” Emily paused, wiping away tears. “I was scared you took her back, but I should’ve let you explain and I didn’t. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that out of any girl in this world you could’ve fallen in love with, you chose me. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when I should’ve, and it was me who broke your heart. I love you, Gavin. I know you’re the one who said you thought you loved me from the moment you saw me, but I know I loved you from the moment I saw you. Something inside me told me I was supposed to be with you, but I fought against it. So many things about you scared me at first, and then you showed me who you really are.”

  Unable to keep fighting the raw emotion weighing heavy on her heart, Emily broke out into hysterics. “Please forgive me for fighting against us, Gavin. Please forgive me for not fighting for us when I knew we were supposed to be together. Forgive me for being the weak mess I am. But more than anything… thank you for loving me. Thank you for your dimpled smile and your bottle caps. I’ll never be able to look at one without thinking of you. Thank you for your stupid Yankees and your wiseass remarks. Thank you for wanting late night drives and sunset-watching with me. Thank you for wanting the good, the bad, and the in-between.” Emily paused and shook her head, but before she could say another word, the voice mail cut her off, the long beep alerting her that her time was up.

  “I’m just sorry the only thing you got from me was the bad,” she whispered, staring at the ceiling as she clenched her phone to her chest.

  In her twenty-four years of living, there were times when Emily would experience a numbness that would set in when she wanted to shut something out. She allowed her mind to let go of poison plaguing her life at certain points. These were times she welcomed it. Breathed it in like the sweet smell of roses. It was the type of numbness one could say ‘cleansed her.’ However, as she sat at the coffee bar in Bella Lucina, tracing and retracing numbers on her order pad, the numbness planting itself in her heart like a thick, summer weed, was something she’d never felt before. Something she didn’t want to feel.

  216 hours… of feeling dead.

  12,960 minutes… of feeling lost.

  777,600 seconds… of feeling completely numb.

  Days upon days, her concentration, which seemed to be carefully knitted together by strands of hope, was fading. Lost. Even while she slept, her mind lingered on Gavin, her dreams dangerous because they reminded her he was gone. He became a beautiful vapor that disappeared into thin air, taking Emily’s very existence with it. Left with broken thoughts she was sure couldn’t be repaired, Emily was suffering knowing he had loved her when she least deserved it. No. This wasn’t something she was prepared for, yet she knew she had to own every hour, minute, and every second of it.

  “I brought table twelve another round of drinks for you,” Fallon announced, sitting down next to Emily.

  With her head downcast, still immersed in the amount of time that’d pa
ssed since Gavin left, Emily didn’t answer.

  “They also ordered a pasta primavera for the monkey that joined them.” At that, Emily reluctantly brought her gaze up to Fallon’s, her face filled with confusion. “Yeah. They found him on the side of the road. Apparently a circus ditched him,” Fallon added, throwing her hair into a messy bun.

  “Did you just say something about a monkey?” Emily questioned, her voice puzzled. “And when did you dye your hair blue?”

  “Nope. I didn’t mention a word about a monkey.” Fallon quirked a brow, placed her elbows on the bar, and tucked her palms under her chin. “It’s been blue for three days, and you’ve seen it already.”

  “Oh.” Emily went back to tracing the numbers.

  “What do you got there?” Before Emily could answer, Fallon swiped the order pad. “What are all of these numbers?”

  “It’s nothing.” Emily yanked it back from Fallon’s grasp.

  Frowning, Fallon studied Emily’s face, her expression thick with concern. “Country, I’m not trying to be dark or dismal, but that’s not some kind of countdown to you killing yourself, right?”

  Eyes wide in shock, Emily leaned back. “Jesus, Fallon, do you honestly think I would do that?”

  “Just answer the question, Country. Is that some kind of countdown?”

  Emily sighed and tapped the pad on the granite surface of the bar. “It’s been nine days since he left, Fallon. Nine days since I completely destroyed him. I’ve called, and he hasn’t answered.”

  “Right, but he hasn’t answered anyone’s calls.” Fallon snaked her arm around Emily’s shoulder. “Colton told Trevor the other day he hasn’t even answered for him.”