Page 52 of Ramsey & Emerson

I wanted to burn the world to ashes when I saw the answer playing across Roselyn’s face. She actually looked like she didn’t want to even say her next words. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “She turned eighteen yesterday and was out of Sands Cove before the sun had even come up.”

I felt like my entire body was shutting down, but I managed to ask, “Did she ever replace her phone?”

Roselyn shook her head. “No,” she answered as her eyes watered. “She said that she’d send me a message on her social media once she got settled to let me know she was safe. But other than that, she wants no reminders of Sands Cove and that includes me.” Roselyn lifted her chin, even though her lips were quivering. “And I don’t blame her.”

I stood there feeling absolutely nothing and absolutely everything.

Emerson was fuckinggone.

Chapter 30

Emerson~

Being back in the small town where your father killed your mother was going to be like living in a fishbowl, but I didn’t care. I didn’t know where else to go, and there were worse things than people staring at you and whispering about you. You know, like almost being gang raped, being accused of wanting it, and then being exposed to biological diseases.

Yeah, like those things.

After I’d cried all night long in Roselyn’s arms, I’d woken up the next morning, determined to leave Sands Cove in my rearview mirror. I was finally eighteen-years-old, and my aunt had no say anymore. I hadn’t even bothered calling her to tell her that I’d left because something told me that she wouldn’t even notice. I mean, how could she notice if she never came home?

I was also thankful that my car had made the journey, but I also suspected that my car wasn’t long for this world, so I had to make some moves and soon.

One of the first things that I’d done when I’d gotten to Roselyn’s had been to call the café and quit my job. They hadn’t given me shit for not putting in the customary two-week’s notice, but I knew that it was because Jarod had still been leery about my connection to Ramsey. At any rate, I’d told him to mail my final check to Roselyn, and I’d told Roselyn that she could burn it for all I cared. I wasn’t going to stay or go back to Sands Cove for a couple of hundred dollars.

Roselyn, in turn, had helped me by digging into her stepfather’s safe, then giving me five stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills. We’d fought for twenty minutes as I tried to refuse the money, but she had insisted. I’d finally conceded when she had explained that it was either take the money or she was coming with me. She’d wanted to make sure that wherever I ended up, I was safe. It had absolutelykilledme to walk away from her, but I’d had no choice.

When I’d finally gotten into Hantover, I’d gone straight to what I’d known; straight to where I’d felt like myself. I’d driven over to the Hantover trailer park, then had walked into the office without feeling any shame. Clifford Meeks had smiled when he’d seen me, and when I had asked him if he had any open trailers for rent, he’d said that with what happened and all, the trailer that I’d grown up in was still vacant.

I’d taken it sight unseen.

I had also paid the deposit and first month’s rent with the money that Roselyn had given me, then had made my way to the trailer. When I had walked in, it had looked exactly the same as when I had been hauled out of there by the police the night that my father killed my mother, minus the blood, crime scene tape, and whatnot.

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. I mean, I’d only been gone a few months, but somehow Sands Cove had felt like a lifetime away. It felt like I’d been gone much longer than a few months, but that could be because I’d spent the summer in a fog after what had happened.

Sitting on the familiar furnished couch in the familiar surroundings, I still felt the crippling weight of what Ramsey had done to me; what he had allowed others to do to me. Except, now it was mixed with the deep, horrible, aching loss of my mother. I’d spent most of my life trying to escape the quicksand victim mentality that often crippled people, but right now, I felt very much like a victim.

When Ramsey had first asked me if I loved him, I could admit that I hadn’t exactly been sure what love was, but I’d felt like I’d had. Now, after feeling his crushing blow of betrayal, I knew, without a doubt, that I loved him. After all, it wouldn’t hurt this horribly if I didn’t.

Whatever he’d heard about me, he had chosen to believe it without even asking me for an explanation first. No matter his talk of love, no matter everything that we’d talked about that weekend, no matter how many times that I’d taken him into my body, he had believed his first initial opinion of me. He believed that I was a whore, even though he’d seen the blood for himself the first time that I had accepted him.

I shook off the heartbreaking thoughts, then got back to getting my life back on track. I was not going to let myself be a victim, no matter what I was feeling. So, after I unloaded what paltry personal possessions that I owned, then unpacked them in the trailer, I drove down to the first Walgreens that I saw, then bought a prepaid cell. I immediately sent an online message to Roselyn, letting her know that I was safe, and that I’ll always be grateful for her help. I also told her that I was a better person for knowing her. After a heart-wrenching message back from her, I deleted all my social media accounts, steering away from anything online. Roselyn was solid, and I knew that she wasn’t taking my choices personally, which helped with my guilt.

With that out of the way, I drove up to The Cozy Diner that was in the center of town because it’s where I used to work part-time while I’d gone to school. I got out of my car, hoping that there was a job opening; part-time, full-time, I didn’t care. At this point, I’d take whatever I could. That was oneof the upsides to growing up poor, pride wasn’t a hindering factor. I wasn’t too proud to work in a diner. I wasn’t too proud to beg for a job. I wasn’t too proud to live in a trailer. Thank God, or I’d be lost right now. Survival was the priority first, school second, and dignity a distant third.

I walked into the diner, and the first person that I saw at the counter was Muriel, the owner. She looked up at the ringing of the customer bell, and her eyes widened as she noticed it was me. “Oh, my stars,” she gushed. “Emerson, dear.” She rushed around the counter and didn’t stop until she had me embraced in her familiar scent.

I hugged her back, and it took all that I had not to fall apart in her arms. “Muriel,” I whispered.

Muriel held me by my shoulders, then took a step back to take me in. Her kind brown eyes scanned me from head to toe, and her smile was warm, genuine, and familiar. “It’s so good to see you, dear.”

I found that I had a genuine smile for her, too. “It’s good to see you, too, Muriel.”

“Oh, oh,” she went on gushing, “you sweet, sweet girl. Come right on over here and tell me what’s going on with you.” Muriel ushered me to the counter, and before my ass even hit the seat, she was around the counter, and she was pouring me a Pepsi. “So, tell me, what are you doing back in Hantover?”

I twisted the cold glass of soda around and around in my hands, then shrugged my shoulder. “I never really wanted to leave here. I had no choice when my aunt made a play for me since I was a minor, but I turned eighteen Thursday. So, here I am.”

Her face was maternal and caring, and I knew that she had a million questions, but Muriel was classier than that. “Well, I’m glad to see you under any conditions, Emerson.”

“I…I was wondering if you had any job openings. I moved back into my hou…the trailer, and…I have enough money to get me by for a while. Eventually, I’ll need a steady job though,” I said, owning up to the reason that I was here.

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