by J. L. Beck
If that Sarah chick wasn’t enough evidence, I get the feeling Clark doesn’t have friends that are girls, which leads me back to the question running rampant in my mind?
Why? Why help the broken girl?
I’m about to ask him why he would want to help me, wondering if this is all an act, something that my father put him up to when the sound of the front door opening meets my ears. He’s here. My thoughts shift, swirling with panic. Dread fills my gut. I must have my worry painted on my face because Clark reaches out, placing a hand against my leg to calm me, and it does, his touch calms me, but it does something else too.
It gives me a warmth I’ve never experienced before, a tingling forms deep in my stomach and I want to latch onto that feeling, explore it.
“Clark, Emerson?” Clark’s father’s deep voice slices through that warmth bringing me back to the present with a hard jerk.
“It’s going to be okay,” Clark assures me again and gets up from the couch. He helps me up as well and we walk hand in hand toward the stairs that lead up to his waiting father. Again, warmth encompasses me, leaving me both curious and terrified. I can still feel the fear lingering beneath the surface, threatening to break through like a wave crashing against a cliff’s edge.
The walk up the steps is a quick one and when we reach the opening to the foyer, I see Clark’s father waiting for us an impatient look on his face. I can’t help it, as soon as my feet touch the pristine marble floor I clam up.
Like most of the wealthy men I’ve met, he’s wearing a suit that’s tailored to his body. It’s always the same, expensive suit, money, power, it’s nothing more than an image, a shield used to hide the darker things beneath. The impulses, the need. All waiting with bated breath to be released. A shiver ripples down my spine and I squeeze Clark’s hand tighter, as he all but drags me across the floor to stand before his father.
It feels like I’m being placed under a microscope to be inspected. Clark’s father's gaze is powerful, raw, consuming and I feel the need to cower in his presence.
Even with my eyes on the floor, I can feel his gaze on me, burning a path of fire into my flesh. Slowly I peek up at him through my lashes, my lungs burning my heart hammering so hard it feels like it’s going to burst from my chest.
This is it, he’s going to hurt you. His eyes find our joined hands before moving up to our faces, and when his eyes collide with mine, I can see the furious anger boiling inside them. I can feel it, and that causes me to take a step back, tucking myself a little behind Clark, as if he could save me from his father’s wrath, as if he could save me from his touch.
“I told you, no fucking…” His father grits out, his jaw tightening. “Do you think I say these things for my health? You disappoint me, Clark…all the fucking time. I should be anymore…” His voice booms through the open space and I start to tremble, my entire body reacting with fear to his presence. My eyes drift closed, and I try to talk myself off the ledge, but the panic rises and rises like water overflowing a riverbank.
Through the hazy fog, I can feel Clark tense at his father’s words, his hand tightening in mine, but only slightly, as if he’s controlling how much anger he puts out.
“Emmy… such a pretty name, for such a pretty girl…” The words whip through me and I almost double over at the sensation, my free hand pressing against my chest. It feels like I’m breaking, all over again I’m breaking.
“It’s not like that. I’m not… we’re not fucking,” Clark hisses and I can feel his anger.
He will hurt you… break you all over again…
Tears sting my eyes, and I know Clark has no idea what’s taking place, but I want him to know, I want him to know so badly.
“Is she okay?” Clark’s father asks, and I feel Clark turning, the warmth of his body radiating into mine.
“Shit…” Clark curses under his breath before turning toward me fully. I blink my eyes open, but I don’t see him...all I see is my face pressed into the mattress, all I feel is the pain between my legs.
“Emerson…” Clark whispers, cradling my cheek against his hand. I force myself to breathe, in and out, in and out. I’m vaguely aware of footsteps echoing off the floor telling me someone is walking away, or worse toward me.
“I knew this was a bad fucking idea…” Clark’s father’s voice rains down on me, and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stifle the screams threatening to rip from somewhere dark inside of me. I wasn’t strong enough to scream before. I was weak, so weak. Squeezing my eyes shut, I beg for the moment to end, for the pain living inside my chest to go away.
“I’ve got you… I’ve got you…” Clark’s soft voice wraps around me, and then I feel him, pulling me into his chest. He’s got you. He’ll protect you. The strangest thing happens then… the ache, the pain, it disappears, almost as if it never existed.
The pressure around my lungs ease, and I can breathe again. With my ear pressed against his cotton clad chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart and let it bring me back to the present. When the panic eases from my muscles and I feel at peace, I pull away, my cheeks streaked with tears, and red with embarrassment.
Shame hits me hard followed by a huge dose of guilt. Clark doesn’t owe me anything, he isn’t responsible for the fear, the pain, but I’m using him, like a vice I let him carry the burden of my pain and I can’t keep doing that. I have to learn to deal with this on my own, even if I don’t want too, even if it feels like I’ll never survive.
Taking a step back, and then another, I tell myself this is the right thing to do. I’ve made it this far in life without needing someone like Clark, and I’ll continue to make it. He won’t always be here, he won’t always be able to save me.
I need to be my own hero.
“I’m...I’m really sorry. This can’t keep happening,” I whisper, feeling as if my heart is breaking. Why does it feel this way? It shouldn’t feel this way.
Clark’s chocolate brown brows furrow and the look on his face makes it hard to breathe. It’s a cross between despair, confusion, and anger. “What do you mean this can’t happen? We aren’t doing anything wrong. I’m not hurting you, and I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone else either.” I shake my head, strands of red hair fall into my face at the movement. He doesn’t understand, of course he doesn’t.
“You won’t always be there to rescue me, Clark and I can’t keep relying on you to be either. I’m sorry,” I say one last time as I turn and rush up the stairs to my room. I think the worst part of all isn’t the way my chest starts to hurt again or even the way Clark looked at me. No, the worst part is that I don’t hear him walking up the stairs, chasing after me. The worst part is I’m afraid that maybe, he actually believes me.
When I reach the bedroom, I slip inside and close the door behind me, turning the lock into place before sliding down the door until my butt hits the hardwood floor. I stay like that for a long while, until the sun starts to set, and the moon finds its way into the night sky.
◆◆◆
The days that follow are very much like the first day Clark’s father came home. I find myself walking on eggshells, my panic attacks becoming more and more frequent. Clark takes notice and does his best to help me through them, but I find myself pushing him away every time, afraid of the feelings he stirs inside of me.
I shouldn’t crave a man’s touch. I shouldn’t want to feel the warmth of their embrace around me, but I want Clark’s. I need it like I need my next breath like I need air to breathe. It’s wrong, forbidden, but it’s real, and I want it. I want it badly. Something inside of me awakens when he’s near, and it feels like...like I maybe I could find my way back to the old me, the me before everything happened.
“You have to stop avoiding me. We’re going to be going to classes together and I have to show you around campus and introduce you to my friends. I can’t do those things if you’re hiding from me,” Clark says, entering my room.
I’ve been sitting on the bed reading a book n
early all afternoon. It’s the only room in the house that I feel safe in, now that Clark’s father is here. I pull my gaze from the paperback and let them rise slowly, drinking in the man before me.
Tall, toned, tan, with a body that resembles that of the Greek gods. His cheeks are high, his jaw sharp, firm, and briefly I wonder what his tight, toned muscles would feel like under my hands. What it would be like to explore him, to let him explore me. Heat creeps up my throat and onto my face, probably given my indecent thoughts away.
I have no right to think of Clark in such a way, even more so when I’m positive he doesn’t see me in the same way.
“Are you listening to me?” Clark’s voice takes on a deep tone that snapped me out of my thoughts and I swallow, a lump forming in my throat.
“I’m not avoiding you. I’m…” I pause when my eyes meet his hazel ones. They remind me of autumn, the sun hanging in the afternoon sky, warmth, and apples, and happiness. Joy. Clark is joy.
“You’re avoiding me,” he huffs out and moves over to the bed. His movements are slow but precise, as if he’s trying not to startle me.
“Am not,” I say back, closing the romance novel I’m reading. The movement draws Clark’s attention away from me and down to the book in my hands.
“What are you reading?”
“Nothing.” I tuck the book close to my chest.
A smooth grin that I’m sure if I was any other girl would have my panties hitting the floor pulls at his lips. “Liar. Why do you lie to me, Em? I thought we were friends?” The light playful banter he’s giving off makes my lips tugged up into a smile, the movement so foreign that it feels strange to have my lips doing such a thing.
Clark leans in, and the air in my lungs stills. “Beautiful. So damn beautiful. I want to see you smile all the time, Emerson. All the damn time.”
What do I say to that? Is there even a response? My mouth pops open, but the response never comes. Clark’s gaze drops from my eyes and down to my lips and I let myself wonder, but only for a moment what it would be like to kiss him, to let him kiss me. Would I be afraid? Would I freak out? Or would I fall? Fall into his lips, his arms?
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says softly, his minty breath tickling my nostrils.
“What kind of surprise?” I ask curiously, letting myself give in to the playful banter.
Clark snickers. “Well, it involves, getting out of bed, leaving this room, and getting into a car with me.”
My gaze widens, and as if he can hear my thoughts, he places his large hand against mine, “I just want to take you somewhere. You’re safe, and always will be with me.”
I nod, letting him know that I know that before exhaling. When I suck in another breath, I feel a little less panicked.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Do you trust me?” he counters.
I swallow, my throat tightening. I should say no, it would be the smart thing to do, but I don’t because as badly as I know I shouldn’t, I do trust Clark. I trust him more than I trust even my own family.
“Yes.”
My response makes him smile and damn is that smile of his breathtaking. I can see why that Sarah chick was angry that he wouldn’t sleep with her.
“Good, because I want to take you somewhere. I did something for you, for us, and I want to show you. Let you make a choice.”
My brows pucker together, and I nibble on the edge of my thumb.
“What did you do?” I squeak out.
Clark’s smile widens, a mischievous glint reflecting in his eyes. “You’ll find out, just trust me, okay?”
I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop me…
“I do,” I say, moving off the bed.
Chapter Five
Clark
Trust. I know without asking, without even thinking that it’s something that Emerson doesn’t give freely, and yet, she said she trusts me. That only affirms my choice to get this condo even more. Since my father’s appearance at the house, Emerson has hidden in her bedroom, either sleeping or finding something to do within the four walls of that room.
The few times she did make it out of the room, she had one small panic attack after the next. I don’t know what it is that freaks her out about my dad so much, but I know I can’t watch it any longer. I’m tired of it, tired of her hiding, of being afraid. I don’t know what happened to her, but it’s not going to suffocate her, not in my presence, not anymore. The old me, the one before Emerson ever came along never would’ve done something like this, something so committing, but I’m no longer the same person and I haven’t been since the night of that party. Saving her that night, it brought out the best in me, it made me want to do better. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve dreamt of her every night since that night. I wanted her to reappear in my life and as if God knew, as if he heard my silent prayers, he made it happen.
“Are we almost there?” Emerson asks from the passenger seat of my F-150. I got this truck as a fuck you. My dad got me a sleek sports car for my sixteenth birthday, one that screamed, look here… we’re rich. I went to the dealership the next day and traded the car in for a truck. It’s not a bad vehicle, but definitely nothing my dad would drive around.
I glance over at Emerson, she looks nervous as she shifts uncomfortably in the leather seat, gazing out the window as if she is trying to gather clues on where it is I’m taking her.
I grip the steering wheel hard, hoping, praying that she’ll say yes, that she’ll be okay with what I’ve done.
When I pull up to our destination, a small but modern condo, ten minutes away from campus, she looks no less confused than she did on the way over here.
“This is it,” I tell her grinning nervously.
“And what is this exactly?”
“Your new home…” I exhale. “I mean if you want it to be that is.”
She stares at the condo for a moment shock clearly written on her features. When her gaze swings back to me, I see tears filling her eyes… fuck, this is not what I wanted to happen. I’m not good at this shit, and I can’t tell if it’s good or bad tears.
“You’re getting rid of me?” She starts to sob, lowering her head and covering her face with her hands.
Fuck! I act before I can stop myself and grab her tugging her across the center console and into my lap.
“No! No, Em. I’m staying here with you. I want us to stay here together. I know you have a hard time around my dad, so I thought you would be more comfortable here, where it’s just us.”
I can feel my heart beating in my chest, the blood rushing in my ears, and when she looks up at me tears clinging to her thick lashes, the air in my lungs stills. The pain radiates out of her and into me like a waterfall and I wonder how I ever lived without her before this? I’m consumed by her, with her, and desperate to know her story, to know her secrets so I can heal her, protect her, cherish her.
“You mean it?” she whispers as if she doesn’t believe me.
“Of course, that was my plan all along. Both of us were going to stay here. You really think you could get rid of me that easily? Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”
A tiny smile ghosts her lips, but it’s enough to make my heart skip a beat. She is so breathtaking when she smiles. I’m going to make it my life's mission to make her smile every day. Using the pad of my thumb, I wipe a stray tear from her cheek and then press my lips to her forehead.
Everything inside of me screams to kiss her, to taste her lips on mine, but I can’t, I won’t. I won’t let my attraction to her win out, she needs me for different reasons, not for my cock.
“You want to go inside and check it out?”
“Well yeah, I’m just… are you sure you want to do this?” She blinks down at me and I can’t help myself. The need to touch her even if it’s in the tiniest of ways surges through me. Brushing a few lingering strands of hair out of her face I tuck them behind her ear, and breathe her in, letting her scent swirl insi
de of me. My cock stiffens, but I swallow the arousal down.
You can’t have her.
“I’m positive.”
“Okay, I just don’t want you changing her whole life around for me. I’m not worthy of that kind of thing.”
“Don’t ever say anything like that again. You are worth all of this and more. Don’t ever think anything less of yourself,” I scold, a little harsher than I should, but I want to drive the point home. I want her to understand, to see things the way I do.
Her eyes bleed into mine for a long second and then without saying a word, she leans in and presses her lips to my cheek. Sparks of pleasure zing across my skin.
The kiss is brief, gentle, almost innocent like, even though my body thinks of it as something else entirely. I can’t stop my cock from bulging against my jeans though, even when I silently tell the fucker to calm down.
Emerson pulls away then, her eyes wide, searching mine for a reaction. She looks a bit shocked, even more than me.
“I’m so—” she starts, but I cut her off, pressing my index finger to her lips.
“Don’t you dare finish that,” I warn playfully. “Don’t you ever apologize for kissing me. I like kisses, among other things,” I wink.
I know I’m walking the line with my comment, but I want to see where she stands, on what level we’re at.
Her creamy white cheeks turn a bright shade of red, as red as her hair, but I don’t care. In fact, I feel the opposite. I’m glad she’s being shy since it beats the heck out of her being scared.
“Should we go in?” Her voice is raspy, sexy, and as badly as I want to tell her no, I nodded my head yes. Truthfully, I don’t want to go in anymore. I want to lean over and kiss her lips, taste her, feel her and more, so much more. I don’t want this moment to end, but I can’t pretend she’s one of the girls I usually fuck, like those women are comparable to her, because they’re not, she’s so much more than they ever were so much more.
