North Woods University

by Beck, J. L.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to feel sorry for me,” I say, peering down at her. I’d much rather be at home in bed with her right now than here, but we can’t always have what we want. She pulls away, and shifts back to my side, a soft smile gracing her lips but said smile slips off her face and falls to the floor the moment her eyes collide with something, no not something, someone off in the distance.

  “That’s my father…” Emerson whispers, a tiny tremble in her voice, as a big burly looking man with blonde hair stalks toward us. He’s tall, almost as tall as me, and though he’s not wearing a tux that’s as flashy looking as my father’s, he still oozes that asshole look-at-me-I-have-money attitude. As he gets closer, I feel the need to shove Emerson behind me to protect her, to tell this asshole who obviously didn’t protect his daughter from whoever hurt her to fuck off.

  “Emerson.” His voice is deep, stern, as he comes to a stop a few feet in front of us. Our gazes collide. His eyes are the same color blue as Emerson’s, but they don’t hold the same warmth, the same energy or life. My jaw tightens and I so badly want to tell him to take a hike, but what good would that do? His gaze cuts to Emerson, who is now holding onto me like she just saw a ghost. “I would like to have a quick word with you.”

  “Of...of course,” she stutters. She hasn’t stuttered in, well fuck, forever. Which tells me what I should do, what I need to do.

  Pulling away from me, she takes a step forward. I reach for her hand, but she takes another step forward and shakes her head.

  “I’ll be right back.” She gives me a reassuring smile.

  I’m torn between letting her go to throwing her over my shoulder and dragging her away from here. I want to protect her from everything, but I know that this is not how it works. I’m doing this so she can be independent and not scared. She’s made so much progress and now it’s time to let her and her father see how strong she is.

  “Okay,” I say before leaning down and whispering right next to her ear. “You’ve got this.”

  I don’t miss the disgusted look that her father gives me, like me touching his daughter is a crime or something. She let’s go of my arm and I watch her walk away, following her father through the crowd. I let them get a ten feet head start before I start tailing them. I’ll let her fight this battle, but that doesn’t mean I’m letting her out of my sight to do it.

  They step out into the hallway, through a pair of French doors leading to the pool and I walk around to the second exit leading to the same hallway. I’m not even standing there for a second and Emerson has already started talking to her father, her voice strained like she is fighting back tears.

  “It’s not like that. Why do you care anyway? Why can’t you just let me do this on my own?” I can feel her pain as if it’s my own to bear, and I dig my fingers into the brick pillar I’m leaning against to stop myself from going to her.

  “Do you even care what people think about you? Everyone knows the reputation Clark has with women, do you really think it’s a good idea to be seen with him, let alone move in with him? I bet you didn’t think I would find out about that, did you?” Her father’s voice is accusing, and I can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now, or what he’s accusing her of?

  “No, I don’t care what people think…and I knew you would find out. I wasn’t hiding anything—”

  “I’m sure you weren’t, and while you may not care about how people see you, I do,” he cuts her off and I’m a second away from coming out of hiding to roundhouse kick him in the chest. “You’ve caused enough problems,” he snarls.

  What the fuck is wrong with this asshole? My grip on the champagne glass tightens and I have to force myself to loosen up before this thing shatters in my hand.

  “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, or tarnished your appearance tonight. But really, it’s not what you think. Clark is not who you think he is. I love him, and I think he loves me too.”

  An arrogant snort of humorless laughter erupts from her father’s throat.

  “You are so naïve, Emerson. One would think after all you’ve done, you wouldn’t put yourself in another situation like this. I can see that you still don’t understand how the world works. Can you at least promise me one thing this time?”

  “Yes,” she says quietly, her head hanging low in defeat.

  “Try not to get pregnant again.”

  Pregnant again? The words sink in slowly, my body feeling as if it’s sinking into quicksand. The glass in my hand slips from my hold, as the world around me shakes like an earthquake is taking place. It lands with a crash, shattering across the ground, and I imagine that’s how my heart would look right now if I could see it.

  Shattered…broken.

  62

  Emerson

  I know the moment I hear the crashing of glass against the stone floor that Clark is there. I don’t need to lift my head and look at his confused, heartbroken face to know, but I do anyway, hoping maybe he didn’t hear the fateful words my father had just said, but he did. A deep ache resonates through my gut and I take a step toward him without thinking.

  “Oh, this is great. He didn’t know?” my father announces. Clark only glances at my face and then looks away as if he can’t stand to look at me another moment longer. Why didn’t I follow my gut instinct? I knew this would happen, that when he found out the truth he would run, leave me. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes.

  I’m stupid, so stupid.

  “That boy doesn’t love you and it would be wise of you to grasp onto that now.” My dad’s voice cuts through me like a knife. My eyes are still on Clark, hoping that he says something, tells my dad that he is wrong, that he does love me, but instead he turns and walks away.

  He’s walking away. Time stands still, my body is frozen, but my mind is going at a million miles a minute, matching my racing heartbeat. He’s walking away.

  My father’s voice touches my ears, he is talking to me, but the words don’t make sense.

  All I can think of is Clark walking away and how I’m just standing here doing nothing. Like always, I let things happen without doing anything about them. Be strong. Something in me snaps and my legs start to move on their own accord.

  I will not stand here and do nothing. I need to get to him, to explain. I need to tell him what happened and hope he will still want me after he hears the truth. He might not, but I need to try. I follow him through the door and into the main room, he walks through the crowd of patrons and I follow him step for step. I can tell just from the way that he is walking that he’s angry.

  “Clark, please wait,” I call after him, uncaring if anyone sees the tears in my eyes or anguish in my voice, but either he can’t hear me, or he doesn’t want to.

  We’ve almost made it across the room when someone reaches out and grabs me by the arm, forcing me to come to a sudden halt.

  “Emmy, there you are, I was looking for you,” a familiar voice calls, and it feels like pieces of ice are raining down on me. Him. That voice has every cell in my body suspended in time. I can’t breathe, my vision blurs, and it feels like I’m about to have a heart attack.

  He found me. He’s going to hurt me again.

  “Emmy, come here,” the vile monster calls again, his hand still on my arm, and I want to scream, rip my arm from his hold. The anger and pain inside of me is begging to be released, but it won’t come out.

  I’m weak, and always will be.

  Emmy. There is only one person who calls me by that name. I might be in a room full of people, but in my mind, I’m alone submerged in the dark. A scared girl unable to protect herself. I’m a prisoner here. I don’t see or hear anything outside that word.

  “Shhh, Emmy, you wouldn’t want your father to hear, now would you?” His rancid breath fanned against my ear as he whispers against my skin.

  “Emmy, my sweet little Emmy, such a good little girl. My sweet little girl.” Tears sting my eyes, but not because of the words he’s speaking, the words hurt, but not
as badly as him prying my thighs apart and stealing from me something that was never meant to be his.

  “Please, stop…” I beg, the tears staining my cheeks.

  “Emerson…” Another voice pierces the fog. I know that voice. It belongs to… Clark’s calling my name, he came back for me, but it sounds like he’s far away. I can hear his voice, soothing, gentle, like soft waves against the beach, but I can’t see him. I can’t feel him. My body starts to tremble.

  I can’t do this. I can’t.

  “No one will believe you if you tell them.”

  Bile rises in my throat.

  “You practically begged for it…”

  All I can feel are his hands on me, the pain, the fear. All I can hear are his words. The smell of his expensive cologne, it’s right there, tickling my nostrils. Panic bubbles over and I struggle against his hold. He can only hurt me if I let him.

  I have to escape. I’m stronger than this.

  “Emerson,” Clark says my name again, and this time it sounds like it’s right in my ear. I feel his hands on my arms, the softness of his touch, melting away the painful memory of his fingers digging into my skin. My savior, my knight.

  “She’s fine, we were just catching up.” I hear Rick’s voice, the voice that stars in every one of my nightmares. Clark doesn’t seem to listen, because he continues pulling me away, his arm snaking around me, holding me to his side tightly as we walk away.

  “Yeah, looks like it,” Clark sneers, his voice on the cusp of a snarl.

  You’re strong. You’re not weak.

  Chanting the words to myself, I try and picture only Clark in my mind.

  I’m so out of it, I don’t even know how we make it out to the truck. All I know is that I am suddenly there, Clark lifting me inside and buckling me up. He walks around and gets into the driver side a moment later. He doesn’t say a word as he starts the truck and pulls out of the parking lot and he doesn’t say a word the whole drive home either. I take that time to stabilize my breathing and organize my thoughts.

  Clark knows about the pregnancy, but he doesn’t know that he just met the guy who did this to me. I know I need to explain, he deserves answers. The question is, will I be able to give them to him? I don’t really have a choice if I want this to work.

  The drive feels long, but not long enough. Clark still hasn’t said anything even as we arrive at the house. He’s angry. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to pick up on it.

  I have to fix this, tell him, but I’m terrified of being rejected.

  Clark parks the truck and kills the engine. I open my door at the same time he opens his and then we walk to the front door in silence. I follow Clark inside and close the door behind me.

  “Let’s sit down and talk,” Clark finally says, shrugging off his tux jacket before taking a seat on the couch. I sit down on the other end of the sectional, so we are not so close, and I can look him in the eyes when I talk.

  Clark is sitting stoically, waiting for me to explain. I take a deep breath in, trying to calm myself and gather all my courage before I start to talk. Before I say out loud what I never told anyone else before.

  “I already told you that my father didn’t know about the abuse, so when he found out that I was… that I was pregnant… he just assumed that I had snuck out partying—”

  “Jesus Christ, Em,” Clark interrupts, his face a mask of agony, like the words physically hurt him. With his elbows on his knees, he lets his face fall into his hands. “Why didn’t you tell him… or anybody?”

  “I was scared… no one would have believed me.”

  “Fuck, Em, what happened? What happened with the baby?”

  No longer able to hold back the tears, I let them fall. I let it all out. “I didn’t want it.” My words come out as sobs. I’m not even sure if he can understand me at this point. “I didn't want the baby, but by the time I realized I was pregnant, it was too late.”

  My whole body shudders remembering that time. I felt so lost and alone. “I decided on adoption. I wasn’t going to have an abortion no matter what but then…I lost the baby when I was six months along.” I have to pause, even saying the words out loud hurts. It feels like my heart is being shredded. Knowing that it was my fault inflicts the worst pain of all. “The doctor said it was because I was malnourished and stressed. I… it was my fault that the baby died… I didn’t want it and then it died. If I had wanted it. Maybe…”

  “Holy fuck, Emerson.” I don’t see Clark move through my tear-stained vision, but I feel him getting up off the couch and taking a seat next to me.

  His arms circle round me as he pulls me into his chest. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. Don’t ever think that.”

  “He was there, Clark. He was there…I saw him,” I cry into his chest.

  “Where? At the benefit event?” Clark’s voice takes on a frantic tone.

  “Yes, he grabbed me when I was following you, it was him.”

  Clark pulls away, holding me at a distance, his eyes bleeding into mine. “Rick Paulson? Rick Paulson is the guy who… who raped you?” His lips tremble as he says the words.

  My eyes go wide, my throat clogging and my chest tightening. How…how does he know him?

  “Y-you know him?”

  “No, I mean yes, kind of. I met him once, a few weeks ago. That day Vance picked you up from classes. He introduced himself to me as an old friend of my father’s, he told me he just moved here…” Clark trails off as if the pieces of the puzzle are only now connecting in his mind. “It was him? He hurt you?” he asks, more as if he’s talking to himself then asking me, but I answer him anyway with a nod.

  As if there is a fire, he jumps up from the couch, the movement so sudden that I jerk back against the cushions.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he grits out, fury overtaking his features. His hands curl into tight fists and his muscles bulge with tension. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  He starts to head for the door, and I jump up off the couch, rushing to his side. “No! Clark, please… don’t leave me,” I plead, not caring how desperate I sound. Wrapping my arms around his middle to stop him, I bury my face against his chest.

  If I have to get on my knees and beg him to stay, I will. I would do anything at this point not to lose him. “You promised… you promised you would never leave me. I can’t lose you, Clark and if you go and kill him, then I’ll lose you forever.”

  His hands grip onto my arms and for a second, I think he is going to push me away, my heart skidding to a stop in my chest, but then he releases me, wrapping his strong arms around me. Intertwining us.

  “Fuck, you’re right. I won’t do anything to risk losing you.” His lips graze my forehead. Relief washes over me at his words. My body relaxing in his hold, comfort and warmth, replacing the panic and fear that stood there moments ago. “How? How did this fucker get to you? Where the fuck was your dad?”

  Memories of that time flood my brain at his question, but for the first time, they don’t suffocate me. They still hurt, still have my stomach in knots and my chest aching, but they are not drowning me like they used to. Not when I’m holding on to Clark, not with him by my side. He is my life preserver in this ocean of sadness, he keeps me afloat when I think I’m going to go under.

  For the first time in my life, I say the words out loud. I tell the story I never told before and never thought I would. “A few years back, Rick worked a big case with my dad. He stayed with us for that time…” I pause, holding on to Clark, drawing strength from him. “He would come in my room at night. At first it was just touching… I told him that I didn’t want to be touched, but he didn’t listen. He said stuff like, he knows I want him, everybody does, he’s seen the way I looked at him. I didn’t, but he made me feel like I did. He told me no one would believe me if I said anything and… he took pictures of me. He said he would show everybody if I said anything.”

  “Fuck, Em… I’m so sorry. I wish I w
ould have been there to protect you. How did your dad not notice that something was wrong? I don’t fucking understand.”

  “I was a quiet person even before. My dad’s top priority always has been work, he never paid much attention to me and I was homeschooled, so I never really had friends. And even if I had anyone, I don’t think I would have said anything. I was so scared, and I felt dirty. I know now that it wasn’t my fault, but it felt like it then. I was frightened and confused, and I felt broken… so broken. But all of that changed since I met you, I don’t know what I would do without you now. You don’t know what you mean to me, Clark. How much you helped me. Without you I’m a mess, suffocating in fear. Ever since you came into my life, I feel like I’m whole again. I love you…” The words pour out of me, and I mean every single one of them. He already knows my deepest and darkest secret, so pouring out my heart to him feels easy now. Like it’s natural.

  “Never did I think I would care for someone as much as I care for you… and never, ever, did I think I would love someone but I do. I love you, Emerson.” His words caress the scabbed over wounds that cover my body. He loves me. He knows my secrets and he’s still here. He’s seen me in some of my worst times and yet, he still wants me.

  I smile with ease, my heart never having felt so heavy and full before.

  I don’t know how long we stand there just holding onto each other, but after a while, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.

  “Let’s go to bed. I want to get you out of this dress and hold you in my arms.” Heat flickers in his eyes, and somehow it sparks a fire inside of me, as if he’s fire and I’m gasoline.

  “Yes, let’s go to bed,” I repeat, letting him guide us to his bedroom. “I need to take a shower really quick though. He touched me and I want to get the feeling of him off my skin.”

  “Okay, whatever you need.” Clark starts to strip out of his tux, flicking the button on his dress pants and shoving them down his long legs.