Page 52 of For Emery

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Emery

I grabbed my shower bucket and headed into the hallway, knowing I was going to be late for class if I didn’t hurry.

“Emery,” Flip called from down the hall.

I spun around, my eyes stretching wide as I took in his swollen nose and black and blue eyes. “Rough game?” I asked.

He scoffed. “You didn’t watch?”

“No, I did. You guys looked great out there.”

“All of us or just Grady?”

My brows inverted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t talked to him?”

“Since you guys got back? No.”

“So, you didn’t hear he attacked me before the game?”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

He motioned toward his face. “You think I did this to myself?”

I took in his swelling and bruising. Flashbacks of my mom over the years flooded my brain. Only, she blamed her marks on walking into a wall or tripping over a chair. But I knew the truth. And the mere recollection turned my stomach. “Why would he do that?” I asked, my voice hushed for fear of what he’d say.

“Beats the hell outta me. The guy’s a loose cannon.”

“So, he hit you for no reason?”

He shrugged. “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t just hate people. He also doesn’t just let people in. You have to earn that.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses for him.”

I shook my head. “I’m just trying to understand. Growing up he didn’t hit people for no reason.”

“So, you’re taking his side?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m pissed he’d lay a hand on you. It’s never okay to hurt someone.”

“I’m worried he could hurt you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, sickened by even the thought of it. “He’d never hurt me.”

“How well do you know him, Emery?” Flip motioned to his face. “Would the guy you know do this to someone?”

Flip’s words stayed with me as I showered. So did the damage Jordan had done to his face. Did I know Jordan like I thought I did? Had I been so blinded by having him back in my life that I hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the boy I’d fallen for? Did this Jordan use violence to settle his disputes? He, of all people, knew what that did to people.

* * *

I threw my bag’s strap across my chest and headed toward the stairwell. Calculus had been exhausting. Did anyone really need all that math?

I stepped outside, caught up with the bodies moving to their next classes. It was overcast, and as I crossed campus, dark clouds rolled in—such a parallel to my mood. Flip’s words still haunted me. Still had me questioning everything. I couldn’t shake the memories his injuries elicited in me. It was as if I was that little girl again seeing my mama hurt for no reason. I’d pushed those images away over the past four years, but the fact that Jordan did that to Flip made me sick.

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