by Noelle Marie
Gunther leered down at her before sucking off the bright red blood beginning to well on his thumb. “I think I like you even better conscious,” he taunted.
Emma attempted to stand, but Gunther all but jumped on her, wrestling her back down onto the floor and managing to pin her hands behind her back despite Emma kneeing him in the stomach. He pressed his body flush up against hers, and she felt something hard jutting into her stomach.
“Get off!” she shrieked. “Someone help-”
Gunther cut her off mid-yell, forcing his mouth over hers. His teeth clanked painfully against hers, and a large tongue was suddenly invading her mouth.
But then, just as quickly as Gunther’s mouth was on hers, it was gone. He was gone.
Gunther was yanked off of her with enough force that his body collided harshly with the nearby wall.
Catching her breath – and steadfastly ignoring the fact that her entire body was trembling – Emma forced herself to stand. Once on her feet, she looked up to face her rescuer… and felt her eyes go wide in surprise.
It was Heath.
But not.
His muscles were tense and straining against his shirt, his hair swept in wild disarray around his face, and his eyes… they were glinting madly as he stared down Gunther. There was nothing human at all about the almost animal-like fury they exuded as he stared.
“What the hell, man?” Gunther demanded, pushing himself away from the wall he’d been shoved into. “There are plenty of girls at this party. Go find your own; this slut is mine-”
Heath reeled back an arm and punched Gunther in the mouth before the last word even had a chance to completely escape. Grabbing the collar of Gunther’s shirt with his free hand, Heath pulled back his arm and punched him again, this time in the nose. Blood spurted out of both Gunther’s nostrils, and trails of the red substance immediately began running down his chin. And then Heath hit him again, connecting once more with his mouth.
When he released Gunther, the jock crumpled to his knees with a pained cry. But Heath had no sympathy. He delivered a brutal kick to Gunther’s side. Emma winced as she watched his booted foot connect with Gunther’s ribs. He kicked him again in the same spot. And pulled back to do it once more before Emma was finally able to regain enough of her senses to intervene.
“Stop!”
Heath tensed at the word, hesitating to deliver another blow, but not moving away from the boy who’d now fully collapsed onto his side, clutching his belly and moaning in obvious agony.
Emma had wanted to tell Heath to stop earlier when his fist had first connected with Gunther’s face. She’d been honestly afraid for Heath’s safety. While the two boys were close to the same height, Gunther had quite a bit more girth than Heath, and she hadn’t wanted Heath to be hurt.
Clearly, she needn’t have concerned herself.
Now, however, she was beginning to worry for an entirely different reason.
“Heath, please stop,” Emma repeated, and finally – finally – he looked at her. His pupils were still blown wide with rage, nearly completely overpowering the blue of his irises.
“He deserves it,” Heath spat in protest.
It was true.
And yet…
“I know, I just don’t want you to get into trouble,” Emma admitted quietly.
Something about that – whether it was what she’d said or how she’d said it – seemed to snap Heath out of whatever kind of trance he was under. He blinked, taking a jerky step away from Gunther and towards her.
“Are… are you okay?” he asked gently, his eyes roaming over her form, looking for any noticeable injury.
Emma took a moment to mentally analyze her well-being. There was carpet burn on her lower back where her shirt had ridden up while Gunther wrestled her to the floor and her shoulders ached where Gunther had clutched at them so hard, but that was it. Physically, she was fine.
“I’m fine.”
Heath didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” he demanded, taking another step towards her.
Emma nodded her assertion, but Heath continued to stare at her, almost like if he looked long enough any injuries she was hiding would be revealed to him. Except what Emma had said was true. She was fine. Physically anyway. Nonetheless, she took the opportunity to brazenly stare back at him. “Can I ask you something?” she blurted.
Heath frown, but nodded.
Emma took a deep breath.
What are you doing here? Where have you been? Are you okay? What happened to your back? Who hurt you? Don’t you know that I would never hurt you?
“Will you take me home?”
Heath’s eyes softened, the blue regaining control over the overbearing black. He looked like the boy she knew again. He looked like her Heath.
“Okay.”
CHAPTER TEN
The short drive back to Emma’s house was a tense affair. Emma kept her eyes firmly on her lap the entire way, thinking of all the things she wanted to say. The silence that shrouded them, however, was the heavy sort that neither dared to break until Heath was pulling up to her house. He slowed his Chevy and put it into park, but didn’t shut off the engine.
Emma took a deep breath, finally turning to look at Heath. “Do you want to-?”
“I have something-”
They both snapped their mouths shut, staring at each other.
“You first,” Emma finally said.
Heath nodded. Emma frowned when he unbuckled his seat belt and twisted around so that he could grab something from the back seat. He turned to reveal what looked like a plain white envelope in his hand. He held it out to her. “Here.”
“What is it?” Emma asked, hesitantly taking the envelope. Surely he wouldn’t have taken the time to write out all the reasons he never wanted to see her again.
“Open it,” he advised.
Frowning, Emma slid her thumb under the envelope’s seal and did just that. She pulled out what was inside to reveal a… Christmas card.
Oh.
Duh.
Opening the card, she blinked when something small and rectangular fell out and landed in her lap. She picked it up and examined it. And quickly realized it was a twenty-five dollar gift certificate to the small Barnes and Nobel located the town over.
Emma didn't know what to think, but a warm feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on began building in her belly as her eyes glanced back and forth between the gift card and the Merry Christmas, Emma written in Heath’s handwriting at the bottom of the reindeer Christmas card.
Heath cleared his throat. “I didn't know what to get you, but I know you like to read so…”
“It’s wonderful.” The words shot out of Emma’s mouth without thought. And it was true. The gift was wonderful. Except… “It’s just, I didn’t…”
I didn’t get anything for you.
After the birthday cake fiasco, the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.
“I know,” he asserted. “I didn’t expect you to. I just wanted…” he trailed off. Emma kept her eyes firmly on the Christmas card, trying not to let on to the fact that she was hanging on to his every word. “I don’t know what I wanted,” he finally said, running a tired hand through his hair.
Emma bit her lip, trying to reign in her disappointment. “Oh.”
She tensed when one of Heath’s hands was suddenly encasing her wrist, his fingers forming a loose sort of bracelet around her limb. “But what I do know,” he said, prompting her to look at him, “is that if I could, I would have bought you the entire damn book store.”
There that warm feeling was again – almost like a thousand tiny butterflies had spontaneously sprouted wings in her stomach and were flapping them furiously against her insides.
“Anyway,” he continued, releasing her wrist, “this is all I could afford, so…”
“It’s wonderful,” she reiterated, her usually vast vocabulary failing her. “Thank you so much.”
Heath nodded, a tiny grin tugging at the
corner of her mouth. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to give it to you all break, but I didn’t think you wanted to see me after…” he paused, not finishing his sentence. “Anyway, I went to that party tonight hoping you’d be there. When I saw you, I figured I finally had my chance so I went out to my car to get the card, but you’d disappeared by the time I came back, and when I found you again you seemed… occupied.” The grin had disappeared by the time he was finished with his explanation.
Emma tried to swallow around the lump suddenly present in her throat as she played with a loose thread on the bottom seam of her shirt. “Oh.” She felt like a fool. “I thought… I thought that you were running away from me. That you didn’t want to see me.”
It occurred to Emma that her relationship with Heath was comprised of what seemed like one misunderstanding after another. It was all just so… stupid.
Feeling an unexpected surge of bravery rush through her, she turned to Heath and looked him straight in the eyes. “Do you want to come inside? I’d really like to talk.”
Heath frowned, the crease between his brows screaming uncertainty.
The little line whittled away at Emma’s impromptu courage until it had all but disappeared. “Please,” she said. “I… I’ve missed you.”
Heath’s brow softened. “I’ve missed you too,” he admitted and turned off his car.
Not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind, Emma hurried out of the car and ushered Heath to her front door. Despite the late hour, Sawyer came waddling over as soon as she opened it, offering her his standard greeting of slobbery kisses.
As usual, Emma bent over and begrudgingly accepted them. Upon standing, however, she realized that Heath was subtly searching the room. She blinked, abruptly understanding that Heath may have thought her father was home and that was the reason he’d been reluctant to come in. “My dad’s at work,” she blurted, feeling illogically giddy when Heath’s shoulders immediately relaxed.
Speaking of her father, Emma excused herself to retrieve the note she’d left on the kitchen table that claimed she was spending the night at Collette’s house. Her plans had changed since then, but the note did remind her that she ought to text Collette and let her know where she was before her friend freaked out when she couldn't find her at the party. If Collette could bring herself to wretch her lips from Luca’s long enough to look anyway.
But first…
“Do you mind if I go change?” she asked Heath, heading back into the living room. She smiled when she saw that he had settled into his usual spot on the couch. Sawyer lay at his feet, wagging his tail. “It’ll only take a second,” she assured.
She swore that the skirt Collette had talked her into wearing had been shrinking by the minute since she’d forced the thing up her legs. As it laid now, the scrap of fabric barely covered her crotch.
“Whatever you want,” Heath agreed and Emma hurried up the stairs in her zeal to finally be rid of the miraculously shrinking skirt. After exchanging the skirt for a pair of pajama pants and her pink blouse for an oversized t-shirt, Emma threw her hair up into a loose bun before finally grabbing her phone to message Collette. She quickly realized she’d already missed a few texts from her friend.
Collette: Emma, where are you?
Collette: Emma, seriously, answer your phone.
Collette: Text me. I can’t find you and I’m worried.
Emma hurriedly replied.
Emma: Don’t worry about me, I got a ride home with Heath. Have fun with Luca.
She didn’t have to wait long for a response.
Collette: Tell me next time, will you? I was about to call the cops!
Collette: And I will.
Shaking her head at her friend’s completely uncharacteristic use of a smiley, Emma tossed her phone on the bed before leaving the room. She breezed down the stairs, pleased to discover Heath where she’d left him on the coach. “Sorry that took a while. I had to text Collette and let her know… what?”
Heath had stood from the couch halfway through her explanation and was staring right at her. And not in the lustful, shoot-a-thrill-down-her-spine kind of way that Emma may or may not have daydreamed about.
He looked pissed.
He was standing rim rod straight, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His jaw was practically wired shut and a small vein protruded from the side of his forehead as his face slowly reddened.
“I thought you said that you weren’t hurt,” he grit out between clenched teeth.
Perplexed, Emma looked down at herself… and quickly realized that the oversized t-shirt she’d thrown on upstairs had slipped down her right shoulder, revealing dark, finger-shaped marks precisely where Gunther had grabbed her earlier.
Crap.
“It’s nothing,” she assured him, hastily pulling up her shirt and covering her shoulder. “Honestly, Heath, I bruise so easily.”
“I don’t care if you bruise like a goddamn peach,” he snapped. “I should have killed that bastard! In fact,” he grabbed his coat from where he’d shucked it off on the couch, “I think I’m going to go back there and-”
Panicked at the thought of him leaving to go beat on Gunther again, Emma stepped forward and grabbed Heath by one of his shirt sleeves. “Stop it,” she half ordered, half-begged. “I can handle myself.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Heath stared at her in disbelief. “You can handle yourself?” he repeated incredulously. “Is that what I walked in on before? You handling yourself?”
Emma was mortified by the way she could feel tears suddenly spring into her eyes. “I’m not some helpless, hapless girl,” she protested quietly, releasing his sleeve.
Heath’s entire demeanor softened at the sight of her watery eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, but be realistic, Emma. That guy is three times your size. You never did and never will stand a chance again him. You have no idea the fury I felt watching him hold you down like that, forcing himself on you.” He shook his head and Emma could see his anger returning in the rigid line of his jaw. “God, I should have seen something like this coming. The way that asshole looks at you, I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t tried something sooner.”
Emma stiffened, suddenly unable to meet Heath’s eyes.
He noticed immediately, of course.
“This is the first time he’s tried anything, isn’t it, Emma?” he demanded.
Words of denial stuck in her throat.
“Emma?” he repeated sharply. “Has he touched you before?”
The words were stuck because there were untrue.
“Goddamn it!”
Emma jumped at Heath’s abrupt curse and felt her heart start hammering against her ribcage when he started for the door.
“Wait!” she yelled and was honestly surprised when he did, turning back around to look at her.
“What?”
“Just… can’t you stay here with me? I’ll tell you all about my history with Gunther, but will you please just… stay?”
For a long moment, Emma wasn’t sure what Heath was going to do, but she released a relieved sigh when he took two long strides towards the sofa and stiffly sat. She gingerly took a seat beside him.
“What happened?” he demanded, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was asking.
“I’ll tell you,” she assured him, “but can you promise to stay here and not leave to go on any rampages? I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve miss you the past few weeks, you know.”
Emma was pleased to see some of the tension drain from Heath’s hunched shoulders. “I know,” he said. “I’ve missed you too.”
Emma knew that that was likely as close to a promise as she was going to get so she took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell the sordid story.
“It happened last spring,” she began, “at Maribeth Campbell’s end of the school year party. I didn’t even want to go, but my friends were pretty insistent.” She paused because
in some ways this was the hardest part of the story to tell. “My dad had suffered a stroke the month before and I wasn’t in a good place emotionally. I spent my days in a constant state of worry and pretty much refused to leave the house.”
Emma felt her coiled muscles begin to relax when Heath laid one of his hands over hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles in a soothing motion that offered her more comfort than a hug from anyone else would have.
“Anyway,” she started again, “Collette and Luca meant well, and I imagine everything would have been fine if there hadn’t been alcohol at the party. We all dared each other to try some. I remember how disgusting the can of beer I was sipping from had tasted when someone offered me a glass filled to the brim with some sort of pink, strawberry flavored liquor that was much easier to get down. I drank the entire thing and after that,” she hesitated, “my memory is kind of hazy. I think I remember dancing and having another drink, but like I said, I’m not sure.”
While the hand laying over hers remained gentle, the reassuring caress of Heath’s thumb soft and sure, Heath’s other hand was clutching the arm of the sofa so hard that his fingers had turned bone white.
Rip it off like a Band-Aid, Emma told herself firmly.
“I guess I had been missing for close to half an hour when Collette and Luca found me in one of the spare bedrooms. Gunther was on top of me.”
“Emma-” Heath’s voice broke on her name and the sound of it nearly broke her.
“My shirt was off and my pants were undone,” she continued hurriedly, afraid she wouldn’t be able to force the words out if she didn’t, “but Collette says that Gunther was still fully dressed so I know, at least, that we didn’t have sex.” The fact that she had no idea what they had done, or what he’d done to her anyway, remained unsaid. “That didn’t stop him from telling his friends that we did, though. It… it wasn’t exactly a fun surprise to walk into at the start of school this September.”
