Facing The Enemy

by M. E. Clayton

  Once I got the text message, I had called Liam and Deke and told them I was driving to Hantover and I wouldn’t be back until Emerson came back with me.

  Deke laughed.

  Liam grunted.

  Liam was still upset about what happened with Emerson, but at least he wasn’t avoiding me anymore.

  I had decided to let Bailey stew for a little bit, but on Wednesday, I had finally gone after her. All classroom, auditorium and library computers had been hookup and synchronized to play a video of Bailey getting gangbanged by a bunch of lacrosse players. It was very vivid and vocal and there was no mistaking it was Bailey getting plugged air tight in every hole. And, because the lacrosse players weren’t stupid, there wasn’t a single shot of any of their faces in the video. Just cocks galore.

  But that’s not all I did. I had the same hacker on my dad’s payroll attached that video to play at random colleges across the country so that she couldn’t run off and start a fresh life away at some out of state college.

  And, then, because guilt is a motherfucker, I released a confidential accounting of Constance’s real financial situation and how she was being sued, or rather, her late husband’s estate was being sued for embezzlement, extortion and the pain and suffering of a 16-year-old girl Bailey’s father had been raping for years.

  The way I saw it was had Constance not been such a cunt of a mother, Bailey might not have turned out the way she did. Therefore, I had no qualms about taking Constance down with Bailey. And what was really sad??? That wasn’t even everything I had on that family.

  When I went for revenge, I never used up all my ammo. Never.

  Now, to be fair, the video itself wasn’t that big of a deal. In this day and age, a sex tape doesn’t bring down shame like it should. Hundreds of people and countless celebrities can be found on the internet doing the deed.

  What really fucked Bailey was her arrogance. She was very vocal on the video, and she could be clearly heard saying that five cocks weren’t enough and suggested some of the guys bring their hot dads into the fray.

  Now, this was a pretty, tight-bodied 18-year-old girl taking cocks in her mouth, pussy and up her ass. Hell, some of those cocks were crammed in her orifices two at a time. That kind of porn performance might entice a middle-aged man to get his dick wet with her, and that was one thing the women of this town were not going to risk.

  No 18-year-old slut was going to make them an ex-wife, risking their wealthy lifestyles. I’d be willing to bet that Constance and Bailey will be run out of town before the month ends, if not sooner. Bailey hadn’t shown up for school Thursday or today, and Deke had informed me that all her social media accounts have been deleted. Constance’s account, too.

  Of course, none of it had done anything to make me feel better. I didn’t care about Bailey or her mother, so their downfall brought me no satisfaction. It was just a way to make her pay for playing with Emerson’s life.

  I was fairly certain Emerson wasn’t going to forgive me, and it would be no less than what I deserved, but I was hoping she’d find some peace or satisfaction in knowing that Bailey way paying for her cruel games. Maybe she’d be happy that her aunt was suffering, too. Emerson told me all about how her mother’s family abandoned her mother during our weekend together.

  Constance’s and Bailey’s suffering was the only thing I had to offer Emerson at this point. I knew she didn’t care about my money and my last name meant as much to her as a million other people’s last names. I also knew if I uttered the word ‘love’ to her, she’d probably stab me in the neck before I even finished my sentence.

  And I’d let her.

  Hantover was a day’s drive northeast from Sands Cove and I was using every minute of the drive trying to figure out how I was going to get Emerson to forgive me. A part of me wrestled with just letting her go because I knew there was nothing I could say to make her forgive me, but no matter what, she deserved an apology. She deserved to see me beg for her forgiveness.

  She deserved to see me beg, period.

  I didn’t make it a habit of lying to myself, so I knew the real question was whether I was going to be able to let her go or not. If she says she wants nothing more to do with me what am I supposed to do with that?

  When I told her I loved her, I meant every fucking word. I did love her. I loved her so much that the betrayal that sliced through me when I thought she played me had nearly crippled me. That’s why my revenge had been so lethal. I wanted her to hurt as badly as I had been, and it worked a little too well.

  I didn’t regret what I did because it had been brutal, though. No, I regretted what I had done because it never should have happened. I should have confronted Emerson privately and given her a chance to explain. I should have hunted her down and demanded an explanation. But I didn’t

  Instead, I let Bailey’s poison seep through my pores until I bought what she was selling. It didn’t matter that she’s paying for it now. It also doesn’t matter that I hunted down the guy who helped her execute her scheme and left him in the same shape as Jamie, Ricky and Roman.

  So, my only two choices were to let her be or force her to be with me until she calls the cops or kills me. I didn’t mind the killing much since I’d be dead and not have to suffer in this life knowing Emerson existed but wasn’t mine. It’s the calling the cops that gave me pause. My money could buy me out of stalking charges only so many times, and it would suck to be stuck in jail and never seeing her again. So, it looks like she’s going to have to forgive me because everything else tilted towards illegal activity that I wasn’t above attempting.

  I finally made it to Hantover and the town looked exactly as she had described. It was small with buildings looking about as old as the town itself. When Emerson had been telling me about her hometown and her childhood, she had painted a very vivid picture of Smalltown, USA. She said the town had a ‘rich’ side of town, but it was really just middle class compared to the rest of the nation. My GPS navigation was leading me down the town’s main street that was lined with shops, a laundry mat and the like. But this was actually a good thing for me. It wasn’t going to take much for me to find The Cozy Diner.

  Whenever I think about confronting her, I imagine a scenario with vile words, physical abuse and lots and lots of blood. So, I was hoping approaching her at work would limit all three of those. I wasn’t trying to ambush her at work, and I knew she was going to see it like that-like an ambush, but I just needed to try to get an edge anyway I could.

  It wasn’t too long before I finally found what I was looking for. The Cozy Diner was a commercial corner property that was located smack dab in the corner of the two busiest streets according to the internet search I did on Hantover.

  I slowly crept by the diner and, looking in, I could see Emerson serving tables. I pulled into the parking lot located behind the diner, but I didn’t get out right away. I sat in my car trying to calm my racing heartbeat. After wasting another ten minutes, I finally found my balls and got out of my car and headed towards the entrance to the diner.

  When I pushed the front door open, I swear to God, an honest to goodness old time bell rang from the top of the door. I scanned the diner, but I didn’t see Emerson anywhere. My eyes were straining towards every nook and cranny of the place still trying to locate her when a tall blonde approached me, her trained smile spread across her face. “Hi, there. Can I find you a seat?” Rebecca-says her name tag-said, as she gave me an appreciative look over. I wasn’t shocked by it, but at least she wasn’t as obnoxious about it like most girls.

  I smiled back. “Actually, I’m looking for Emerson. If it’s not too much trouble, you can just point me to her section, and I can wait.”

  Her smile stayed in perfectly in place, but the sparkle in her eyes died a quick death. “Oh, uhm, sure,” she muttered. “Just…uhm, follow me.”

  So, I did. We weaved our way through the tables and Rebecca sat me down in one of the corner tables for two. I sat down and looked up at her. �
��Thank you, Rebecca.”

  “No problem,” she replied. “I’ll go let Emerson know that she has a customer.”

  I watched Rebecca disappear towards the back and prayed for Devine intervention that these next couple of minutes were going to be enough for me to get my shit together.

  Chapter 32

  Emerson

  My shift was going to end in about an hour and I dreaded it. I hated the thought of going back to the trailer and drowning myself is sorrow and self pity again. I had been so happy when Muriel had said I could return to work first thing this morning. I needed something to do if I was going to move past all that crap with Ramsey.

  And, even though, I still felt random heart pangs throughout the day when I gave into thoughts about him, for the most part, the customers, Muriel and the daytime crew occupied my mind with jokes and good times.

  I was turning another order in for the cooking staff when Rebecca’s voice reached me. “Hey, Em.”

  “Hey, Rebecca.”

  “Yeah, so there’s a customer asking for you. I sat him in your section, and thought I’d let you know you have someone out there waiting.”

  Perfect. The busier, the better as far as I was concerned. “Okay, great. Thanks.”

  “I’m sort of jealous,” Rebecca went on surprising me.

  “Jealous?” Rebecca was the perfect girl next door. She was all blonde hair, blue eyes and perfect skin. She was all grace and sweet smiles.

  “The guy’s super hot,” she explained. “I tried my best come hither smile and he didn’t even bat an eyelash. Instead, he asked if he could be seated in your section.”

  It had to be Scott French.

  I mean, even before I was forced to go to Sands Cove, I didn’t have many friends. Scott French, Henry Ricker and Sally Allerman had been my only friends growing up. We all grew up together in the same trailer park and their childhoods were just as jacked up as mine had been.

  Sally was a very malnourished redhead who lived life annoyingly optimistic. But she was fierce and loyal and was the best of us four.

  Henry was a shy sort with big, chocolate brown eyes and deep brown hair. He was shy, but he was smart as a whip and kept us out of trouble often.

  Scott was sort of our leader. He kind of adopted us as a big brother and he was very protective. He had silver blonde hair with eyes the color of night. He was good looking and kept in shape. There are more than a few women who have thrown themselves at him.

  When Constance had come for me, my trio of besties had hatched a plan for all of us to run away together, but since none of us had been 18 at the time, it wasn’t worth the risk to me. I would never endanger my friends. So, I left, but kept in touch.

  Scott was probably here to cuss me out because I hadn’t told any of them that I was back in town. I was putting it off because I wanted to feel a little stronger before telling them why I was back. I had a feeling that if I told them everything that had happened, they’d all jump into Henry’s truck and drive down to Sands Cover and wreak havoc.

  I guess Scott must have heard I was back. Small town and juicy news are a cold combination.

  I left my order with Edwin and went back out to wait on my new customer.

  I was halfway across the diner when Rebecca’s actual words hit me. A customer was asking for me. Rebecca was only a year or so older than I was, but she went to school with me, Scott, Henry and Sally. If my customer was any of those three, she would have said their names. Besides, Scott, Henry and Sally would never eat here. They were about as poor as I was, so they never splurged on eating out and things like that. So, how would someone know to ask for me when I just started working here again this morning? Was it someone who had come in for lunch and came back for dinner? My weekend shift consisted of working from 9am to 6pm, so it was possible someone from the lunch crowd had come back for dinner, but that just seemed odd.

  I was walking towards my new customer when something about his shoulders and back gave me a sense of familiarity. Maybe he was someone I had gone to school with before Constance made me go live with her. This town was very small, and it wouldn’t surprise me that word of me working here had spread like wildfire.

  I approached the table and when my eyes took in who my new customer was, I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped.

  Ramsey Fucking Reed was in Hantover.

  Ramsey. Fucking. Reed.

  I stared down at his handsome face and my first legitimate thought was that I was going to have to kill him. If he followed me all the way from Sands Cove, the only way I was going to ever find peace was to murder him and throw his remains in the ocean.

  And I wasn’t totally opposed to the idea, either.

  Pride had always been the source of my strength. When I wore rags to school, when my stomach grumbled in hunger, when we’d be without electricity…I never let myself feel embarrassed about my circumstances. I was born to an abusive father and weak mother. None of it had been my fault.

  So, I called on that pride now and as I reigned in my shock, I asked, “What can I get you?” I was not going to ask him why he was here. I wasn’t going to ask or talk to him about anything other than his order. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want anything to do with him.

  His whiskey colored orbs met my eyes head on. “I’m not here to eat, Emerson.”

  My name falling from his lips caused my nose to tingle and I could feel pressure behind my eyes. Fuck this asshole! “Then, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. The tables are reserved for paying customers only.”

  I watched in both horror and disgust when Ramsey pulled out his wallet and removed two one-hundred-dollar bills, throwing them on the table. Never having taken his eyes off me, he said, “Now, I’m a paying customer.”

  Looking into his deceptively perfect face, I could feel myself losing it. Hate, rage, regret, sorrow, love, humiliation…all of them were going to war inside me. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just leave me the fuck alone?

  I was about to tell him to go fuck himself when he spoke again, “What time does your shift end?”

  My hands tightened around my pen and order pad, but I was proud that my voice was steady. “That’s none of your business. Now, are you going to place an order or not?”

  Ramsey stared at me for a few seconds and then let out a deep breath. “Emerson, I’m here so we can talk.”

  I let out a humorless laugh. He could not be serious! “I have nothing to talk with you about,” I snapped. “Now, if you’re not going to order anything, you can just sit there with your money because I have other real customers to attend to.” It looks like pride trampled on all those other emotions I was struggling with, coming to my rescue again.

  Ramsey surprised me when he said, “Fine. I’ll let you get back to work.” But I was less surprised as he continued, “But I will be waiting for you when your shift ends. We need to talk, Emerson.”

  I turned away from him without even acknowledging his last statement. We didn’t need to talk. I had nothing to say to him and there was absolutely nothing he could say that I wanted to hear. But I wasn’t unaffected by his presence. A small part of me-the part that still cared-was curious as to what he had to say. Too bad for that small part bastard, though, because all the other emotions were overruling her.

  I shook off Ramsey’s arrival and went back to checking on my customers. I wasn’t terribly busy since we were in the lull between lunch and dinner, so I decided to try my hand at some cowardice.

  After making sure all of my tables were taken care of, I headed towards the back to find Muriel. I found her in the storage room looking over the inventory. “Hey, Muriel.”

  She turned around and smiled at me. “Hey, Emerson. What’s doing?”

  I hated to ask since it was my first day back and all, but I wasn’t ready for a confrontation with Ramsey. My emotions were still beaten and raw from our last encounter. It was all I could do not to fall apart. “I was hoping I could sneak out of
here a few minutes early,” I admitted and cringed at how unprofessional that sounded.

  Muriel lowered her notepad next to her thigh and cocked her head. “Are you okay?”

  That question. That one question filled with so much genuine concern became my downfall.

  The tears started fall and I instantly found myself in Muriel’s arms. “Oh, Emerson, what’s wrong?”

  I wasn’t in full blown sob mode, but the tears were making swift progress down my face. “The short version is I’m experiencing my very first teenage heartbreak and the cause of that heartbreak is waiting for my shift to end, so he can torture me some more,” I admitted.

  Her expression was pure understanding. “Of course, you can leave early,” she said soothingly. “I can take care of your tables until Adam comes in for the dinner crowd.”

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you, so, so, so, so much, Muriel.”

  This sweet woman who had no obligations towards me was showing more love and concern than my own remaining family. I’ve yet to receive one call or text from my aunt or my cousin. Not that I expected one, but still.

  Muriel disentangled herself from my hold and said, “Honey, there’s not a female over the age of 13 that hasn’t experienced heartbreak in some sort of fashion or other. God, men are such fascinating creatures, but they sure do know how to ruin everything good in the world.” She looked into my face and I knew she could empathize with how I was feeling. “Now, you get going, girly.”

  I smiled through my tears. She didn’t have to tell me twice.”

  Chapter 33

  Ramsey

  I stood outside the diner for an hour before I realized Emerson had left.

  I was playing around on my phone, trying to kill time, and every time I looked up and through the diner windows, it seemed as if I kept missing Emerson. I finally put my phone down and watched the hubbub of the diner through the windows. It wasn’t until I saw an older lady making her rounds in Emerson’s section that I realized something might be up.