by Rebel Hart
“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, examining him and coming up empty at guesses.
“A computer hacker.” He grins.
“Oh, so yourself…” I laugh when he nods, realizing that’s why he’s wearing his regular clothes.
Silence falls and I can feel him staring at me again. “Hey, you got something…” His hand reaches up towards my face, “Just, uh…mind if I?...” I awkwardly flinch back. He licks his index finger before pressing it to my cheek to remove a lone eyelash. He holds it out before us. “Make a wish.”
Feeling a growing buzz from my drink and his suddenly handsome presence come over me, I press my fingers to the cold spot burning on my cheek. We both blow until the lash vanishes.
“Malcolm,” a voice booms out suddenly.
“Oh, hey, Emmett,” he replies innocently, rubbing his hand down the back of his neck.
“What’s going on here?” Emmett thunders back, looking between the two of us as if we’ve just committed some kind of horrid sin.
“Nothing.” I lower my head uncomfortably. “You left and Malcolm just came up to say hi.”
“Funny how you never seem to be around until I’m not,” he bites back, burning his eyes into Malcolm’s.
“I should probably get going,” he offers casually, shooting me a sympathetic grimace.
“Ha! And look…I come back and you conveniently leave again,” Emmett continues.
“Well, it’s not like we’re friends,” Malcolm reminds him, his smirk growing more arrogant this time.
“But you and Ophelia are?” Emmett questions with daring eyes.
Malcolm’s chest bucks out slightly as his eyes widen. He steps closer, dancing shoulder to shoulder with Emmett briefly. I grow tense, bracing myself against the wall, certain that the two of them are about to fly into a brawl. But thankfully, Malcolm shrugs it off with an amused smirk before walking away.
“Let’s go,” Emmett huffs suddenly, watching Malcolm leave.
“What?” I cry. Not that I want to be here, but his sudden reason for wanting to go is irritating. “We haven’t even been here that long,” I argue.
“We’ve been here long enough,” he fires back, grabbing my arm.
I’m about to fight him on it, when I catch a pair of eyes glaring at me from across the room. Vivian and Lily are watching us intensely, their mouths tightened, not looking pleased that Emmett and I leaving together so suddenly—even though it’s obvious that he’s furious with me. But with them watching, I feel suddenly inclined to let him drag me along. I wouldn’t want to miss this chance for them to see us going home together.
“Not that I was in love with the party or anything,” I protest once we’re climbing back into his car. “But did you have to flip out over Malcolm like that?”
“I saw the way you were looking at him.” Emmett scowls. “I told you I don’t want you around him.”
“I didn’t really know anyone else.” I cross my arms in a pout. “He was the only one talking to me.”
“And why do you think that was?” he jeers suggestively.
“Because he was being nice?” I suggest.
“That word again. ‘Nice.’” He shakes his head in disgust. “I promise you, there is nothing nice about Malcolm Henderson.”
I turn my head to the window, feeling too tired to argue with him. Malcolm would say the same thing about Emmett. But I don’t really know what came over me back at the party. I was being dangerously flirtatious with Malcolm, and really, I deserve for Emmett to be angry with me right now. But the alternative was standing alone or following him around, pretending to be interested in their luxury car jargon.
The car speeds up as Emmett rushes me back to my parents’ house. Once we park, he leans over to give one quick, cold peck to my cheek, then turns straight again over the steering wheel, waiting for me to get out.
“Are you serious?” I glare at him in disbelief. “That’s it? You’re that mad at me.”
He doesn’t budge at first, refusing to look at me. But eventually he caves to my questioning stare. “I’m sorry,” he groans, dropping his arms and shaking his head. “I’m just stressed. You were right…we probably shouldn’t have gone to that party tonight. I feel like I’m just wasting time. Another day is gone, and we’re no closer to finding Bernadette.”
I reach out and rub my hand along the back of his neck, massaging the tension gently. “You can’t just go, go, go all the time, Emmett,” I say softly. “You have to have some time to decompress.”
“Well, I don’t feel any more decompressed,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Why don’t you come inside?” I suggest with a grin, eyeing the dark windows of my house. “It looks like my parents are asleep. I could sneak you upstairs and think of a few ways to help you decompress.”
“Not tonight.” He shakes his head, still not looking at me. “I’m tired. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The thought of not spending the night with him, or having a chance to make love to him after the night ending this way puts my stomach in knots. But my eyes are heavy, and I don’t have the energy to try and persuade him. I pull him in for a quick kiss, but somehow it melts into something long, deep, and lingering. Next thing I know, we’re making out heavily in his car, not wanting to stop.
He pulls me across the dash, straddling my legs on either side of him. I don’t even care that the steering wheel is pushing into my back as our tongues passionately crash together in deep, sweeping waves. I forget about how tired I am, on fire with intense need for him.
My lips part, just as I am about to plead with him again to sneak back inside with me. But before I can say anything, a loud, blaring horn sounds out, causing me to jump. I must have accidentally leaned back too far, right into his horn. The noise stirs a flickering behind the blinds of my house.
“My parents,” I groan, knowing I ruined our chances.
“It’s okay.” He smiles, breathing out as he presses his forehead to mine before hoisting me off of him. “It’s for the best.”
“I guess so,” I shrug reluctantly, wishing he wouldn’t act so responsible right now. I wish he would speed off for his motel and I could just face the angry wrath of my mom later. But instead, I reach for the door handle.
I look back one more time before I open the door. Emmett is staring straight ahead again with dark, haunted eyes. He looks troubled, and it brings back the knots in my stomach. I don’t know if it’s guilt over what happened with Malcolm, but I can’t help but feel some of his discontentment is definitely directed towards me right now.
“Goodnight,” I say grimly, knowing I have to go inside, hoping something in him will change for just a moment before I have to walk away.
“Goodnight, Ophelia.” He smiles sweetly, just enough to restore a little hope in me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I can’t hide the grin on my face as I walk back inside, still smelling him on my clothes. Our relationship may have had a twisted start, but things are starting to feel good. Normal, even. And if everything else has to be such a mess all the time, at least for now I have him. I just wish it didn’t feel like something was always popping up and getting in our way.
I tell myself that the thing with Malcolm was no big deal and that Emmett will be over it by tomorrow. But as I lay down to go to sleep, the words of my father come back to me, causing me to toss and turn all night.
Chapter Twelve
BOOK 2
The next morning, I wake up to my mom knocking on my door saying she wants to talk. I’m panicked as I climb out of bed to let her in. So many things have happened this week that she could have somehow found out about. All the sex in Emmett’s motel room, the drug incident at school, the fight at Lily and Vivian’s, skipping school, the visit with my dad. My defenses for all of it are racing through my mind as she comes in making small talk about work.
“So…things have been going well at work,” she says with an awkward and heavy smile.
�
�Oh, yeah?” I perk up nervously. “Well…that’s…good.”
“Yeah.” She nods earnestly. “Hard work as always. But I really like the medical center here. Even better than the one back in Oklahoma, I think.”
She looks at me expectantly, but I am too on edge and clueless to what to say.
“Well…what about school?” she asks finally.
“What about it?” I snap back defensively, my eyes wide.
“Just…how is it going?” she prods. “We haven’t really been able to talk about it much since we got here, you know? And I felt so bad when everything happened with Emmett’s dad. I felt like I knew nothing about your life or what had been going on with you.”
“Oh…you know…That was a crazy time.” I laugh nervously, but quickly realize how inappropriate it sounds. “But, um…things are good at school. You know, better now…Sort of.”
“Better how?” she shoots back brightly.
My mind races. How is it better? I’m not getting the shit beaten out of me anymore, but I have beat up Vivian again. And asked Emmett to torture her the way he used to torture me, and realized both Vivian and I seem to get off on it in a weird way. Yeah, Ophelia. Start telling Mom all about that.
“It’s just boring,” I offer finally. “I don’t really know what else to say about it.”
“Oh, okay,” she recoils in disappointment.
She tries to ask me questions about school, but I only give her brief answers. Then her expression changes, and I brace myself for whatever is coming. I know she came in here for a reason, and I can only guess what it might be.
“How are things going with Emmett?” she asks gingerly.
“Oh!” I blurt. “Emmett? Good…You wanted to talk about Emmett?”
Truthfully, I want more than anything to be able to talk to my mom about Emmett. I want to ask if this is what it was like when she met my father. I know it’s nothing like how it is with Brendan. He’s calm and strong enough to keep his emotions under control. He’s never threatened or hurt my mom in any way. I know I want what they share together. And I’m afraid that with Emmett, I am getting what she had with my father. That’s more believable.
I want to ask her if she felt this way about my dad—if she had this hard of a time walking away from him, too. When did she know it was time to give up on him? The story is that he hit her once and she left. Emmett has done worse than that to me—more than once. And I’m still here. If I told her that, as my mother, she would be obligated to lock me up and never let me see him again. But I need her to help make me understand the way my heart feels about him.
I don’t want to blame him for the way he is. I know no one ever taught him how to love someone. How to really love them. I don’t know what his mother is like, but she was absent enough to let his father be a monster. I want to tell him it doesn’t matter that he’s so fucked up, as long as he loves me the best way he knows how. Maybe I can teach him. Maybe I can fix him.
“You’ve just been spending so much time with him lately,” she says lightly. “Things must be getting pretty serious.”
“I’m not going to run off with him again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I reply confidently, thinking in my head that what I really mean to say is, ‘He’s not going to kidnap me again.’
“No, I wasn’t worried about that, Ophelia,” she answers crossly. “I just want to know what’s going on in your life. Be a part of it all. Since you are spending so much time with Emmett, maybe you could invite him over to dinner tonight? I mean, if he’s important to you, then we’d like to get to know him.”
I’m quiet for a moment, thinking through her suggestion. She has no idea just how important Emmett is to me, or how much we’ve been through together—how much we’re still going through together. I want to deny the invitation, but I feel guilty that we’ve sat down with my dad and not my mom and stepdad…the parents who have actually been supporting me and involved in my life.
I’m also relieved that Emmett is the only thing she is concerned about right now, given how many other things are looming. So, I tell her that I’ll ask Emmett to come over for dinner. The hard part is going to be telling him that.
“Okay, I’ll ask him,” I tell her finally. She lingers with a wide smile, just staring at me. “Well…not with you sitting right here.” I laugh. “Go and I’ll call him.”
“Got it.” She nods sharply, throwing her hands in the air. “Say no more. Here I go.” She shoots me one more excited and giddy grin before shutting the door.
She calls over her shoulder on her way out to let me know that they’ll have dinner ready at six o’clock, and once she’s gone, I pick up my phone to call Emmett. He sounds groggy when he answers, and it takes a moment for us to really be able to hear each other.
“What?” he grumbles across the line for the third or fourth time.
“Dinner!” I yell back. “Come over to my house for dinner tonight.”
The line falls quiet for a moment, making me wonder if he still can’t hear me. “Tonight’s not really a good night,” he says finally.
“Oh.” I wait for further explanation, but he says nothing. “Why not? What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is my sister is missing,” he bites back, “and I still have no clue where she is or where to even start looking.”
“I know that, and I’m sorry. But if we don’t know what to do next anyway…why not come over for dinner?” I suggest. “We can talk afterwards and figure out a plan.” There’s a long pause on the call. “Listen, you sat down with my dad and played nice…it’d mean a lot if you could do that for the parents who have actually been present in my life. Besides, Mom is getting suspicious of how much time we’ve been spending together. If she doesn’t start getting to know you, she may put a stop to all of our rendezvous.”
“Fine,” he says after another long pause. “I’m sorry…I just didn’t sleep much last night. What time?”
“Six tonight,” I tell him. “And don’t be late, okay? My mom is really excited about this.”
“Great,” he grumbles and promptly hangs up.
“What the fuck,” I mutter under my breath, staring cluelessly at the phone.
Emmett seems to have changed overnight. Aside from what’s happening with his sister, things between us were fine. And now he’s closed off. Like the well of everything that has been opened up to me over the past couple of weeks is suddenly dry. I try to ignore how terrible it makes me feel, and I’m hoping that by the time he arrives for dinner, he’ll have snapped back into the new Emmett I have come to know. Or at the very least, the Emmett that knows how to charm people into getting what he wants. I’ve watched him work that magic on my father, and I want more than anything to see him please my mom and Brendan in the same way.
I’m surprised by how excited I am to be having Emmett over for dinner. He is charismatic enough when he’s trying to win people over, and I think that given a second chance, my mom and Brendan will actually come to like him.
Mom and Brendan are nothing like the other parents in this town—at least not the ones whose children attend WJ Prep. Their world centers around family, not money. And ironically enough, it was bringing us here that has torn part of their family away. I have only grown distant since we moved, but not out of choice. I am just constantly being pulled off by some new disaster.
But my excitement fades that evening when it’s nearly 6:45 and Emmett still hasn’t showed. I call and text but get no reply.
My mom has made one of her specialties. They’re just simple bean burritos, but her seasonings, the spices and sauces, are what make the dish. It’s a rich and salty dish and it’s one of my favorites. Now it’s sitting here getting cold because my boyfriend couldn’t bother to show up on time, even though I begged him not to be late. My heart sinks in embarrassment with each passing minute. I can’t help but feel judged by my parents. Like they’re wondering why I’m spending so much time with this guy who, in this moment, appears to be
an asshole. If they only knew the things he has done that have been so much worse. Then they’d really judge me. I wanted him to impress them. I wanted to be able to feel proud of him and our relationship. Instead I’m sitting here feeling certain that they think I’m an idiot for falling for this guy.
“I’m so sorry,” I offer shyly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know why he’s late. You worked so hard, Mom.”
“Oh, nonsense!” She waves my apologies away with a smile. “I would’ve made this whether he was coming or not. And we’ll eat it whether he comes or not.”
“You don’t think he’s coming,” I state with a muffled sigh.
“No! Not what I said!” she shoots back confidently. “I’m sure he’ll be here.”
The smell of my mom’s cooking is almost enough to calm my anger. She’s right. We have this with or without Emmett, which is more than he has without me. I don’t even know if he knows how to appreciate a family like mine. It’s unfamiliar and foreign to him. Maybe that’s why he’s not here. Because he has no comprehension of how important this is. Meeting with my father was like a business transaction. He only went because he needed something out of it. I’m more afraid than ever that Emmett is too fucked up to merge into my world in the ways that I need. In the ways that I want.
“Well, I’m going to start eating,” Brendan grumbles finally.
My stepdad Brendan is a big guy with full tattooed sleeves and a big scruffy beard. His stance is scary and enough to throw any guy off, but I know his warmth and sweetness. I just don’t want Emmett to know about it. He needs to be afraid of something around here.
Brendan towers above my petite mom, with her thick black hair and tan skin. We share the same hazel eyes and small figure, but running keeps my muscles bulky, giving me more curves than her.
“No!” my mother hisses, smacking his fork down from his hand. “I’m sure he’ll be here. Right, Ophelia?”
“No, go ahead,” I answer despondently. “I’m hungry. It’s going to get cold.”
