Page 15 of Breaking Emilee

By the time we get out to the parking lot, my bike is the only vehicle there. Stupidly, I only brought one helmet this morning. So, I take it and place it on Emilee’s head, ensuring the strap is tight under her chin. I straddle my bike and help her on behind me. Grabbing her hands, I bring them around my waist, pulling one up to my lips so I can press a kiss to the back of it. I finally settle them both on my chest. “Hang on to me, Butterfly.” She didn’t protest or try to pull away, so I’m sure she heard me. I feel her jump as I turn the key, and my bike roars to life. She leans closer to me, tightening her grip on me, holding on for dear life.

Warmth is spreading from where her hands are laying on my chest. My whole body comes to life with her wrapped around me as I head out of the parking lot. I feel her lay her head in the middle of my shoulders, and I physically shudder. My body surprises me because I get hard just by being near her, but now my dick’s not responding to her. He knows that she’s falling apart, and begging for attention would not be appropriate. I don’t know what will happen when we get to my house, but one thing is certain she is going to tell me what the hell is going on. I just hope I can contain my temper and be strong for her.

I’m not even paying attention to my surroundings, so when I pull into the driveway, I’m shocked that we are in one piece. The drive is too short, so I have not calmed down one bit. I still feel pure rage pumping through my veins. I stare at the simple square white house with two bedrooms sitting in front of us. It isn’t in the best condition, but I know Emilee won’t judge me. We have the whole house to ourselves because Luna works the evening shift at the local hospital. As I kill the engine, I don’t immediately dismount. I don’t want to move away from her, but soon her hands start to shake, and I can feel how cold they are. I need to get her inside where it’s warm. I tap her leg to tell her she needs to move so I can get off. I help her slide off the back before swinging my legs across the gas tank. I step up to her so I can remove the helmet. After tucking it under my arm, I grab her hands, rub them between mine, and bring them to my lips to kiss them again. She never looks at me. Instead, she just stares at the ground.

Pulling her behind me, I head up the steps and unlock the front door. The warmth hits me at once, and I shiver due to the temperature change. It also smells like the pot roast my aunt said she would put in the slow cooker this morning. I don’t look back at Em. I just continue through the living room under the archway that separates the kitchen from the rest of the house. My room is off the kitchen to the right. I don’t let go of her hand till we are all the way in my room.

Now that we are here, I don’t know what to do or say. I want to scream at her to tell me everything, but I know that isn’t how I’ll get my answers. She stops looking around my room and settles on the foot of my bed, staring at the carpet. The tension filling up the space is not helping me get a handle on my emotions. Just as I’m about to start asking questions, the cat Luna rescued comes out from under the bed and jumps in Em’s lap. He startles her, and she lets a little surprised squeak before a small smile graces her beautiful face, and she starts to stroke his long black fur. I can hear him purring all the way over here by the door. “Cute cat,” she whispers as she looks up and into my eyes.

A gasp leaves me as a rock lands in my stomach as I look at her for the first time this afternoon. Her hair, straight and down this morning, is now thrown up messily in a ponytail, looking wet. My eyes trail down from her face to her clothes, and I see that the left sleeve looks to have a damp spot on her wrist. What the fuck happened to my girl? Sensing that she isn’t going to start telling me what happened on her own, I push myself up and cross the room to sit next to her. She may not know this, but her eyes give away when she is lying or telling the truth. I want to be as close to her as I ask all the questions swirling on the tip of my tongue. “Why is your hair in a ponytail,” I ask, pulling the hand, not petting the cat into mine. Her eyes leave mine and settle back on Socks, who looks like he has made himself comfortable with her. The fact that I can see her trying to figure out a lie pisses me off. I squeeze her hand a little. “I want the fucking truth.”

I try to remember I need to be easy with her, but I’m not sure I can. All the questions I asked last night went unanswered but not this time. I know something is going on. Why won’t she tell me so I can help her? The answer hits me out of nowhere. She believes I’m friends with Vanessa, and now I understand why she says she doesn’t trust me. I can’t take her silence anymore. “Damn it, Emilee, let me in. Stop trying to think of a lie. I know something is going on. I saw Vanessa before finding you. Please, baby,” I spit out a little too loud, causing Socks to jump off her and run out the door. I stare at the side of her face because she has yet to look up at me.

She lifts her eyes only, and I can see they are again pooling with tears. She’s hurting, and there isn’t anything I can do about it unless she opens up. “Please let me in. I promise you can trust me. I will never use anything you tell me against you. If there is one thing you need to remember about me, I never break my promises.” I say, my voice low. Reaching out my hand, I take her cheek and turn her head. That’s when I see a bruise forming on the side of her beautiful face, and I can feel my rage threatening to bubble over. She leans into my touch. I see her shoulders relax, and the battle raging behind her eyes stops. God, I hope she is finally going to open up and tell me.

She sighs before she starts talking, fuck finally. “My hair’s up because Christian poured what was left of his soda on it. I tried to wash it in the sink, but I didn’t have enough time to do a good job,” she whispers like she’s ashamed. I’m going to kill that motherfucker, but I need to keep my cool right now, so I can get the whole story out of her.

“Why is there a bruise on your cheek, baby? It wasn’t there this morning.” I run my fingers across the bruise softly, and she winces. They are all fucking dead. Once I start beating the shit out of them, I will not stop until I’m dripping with their blood. These feelings and thoughts are something I have never felt before. Right now, I don’t care how much my aunt likes Vanessa or that face that she’s a girl. I can see Emilee struggling to answer me again. “I promise I will not hurt you,” I remind her again. I’m not going to lie. My heart hurts a little, knowing she doesn’t trust me right now, but I understand it, nonetheless.

“Parker, how do I know that? You hang out with them?” She speaks with more force than she did a minute ago. While I understand why she feels the way she does, it still pisses me off. My jaw clenches, and I grind my teeth together, trying not to show her how I’m feeling right now.

“Because damn it, Emilee, I don’t like that bitch or her sidekick. I like you. I don’t want to spend my time with them. I want to spend it with you. Look at me.” I demand because she once again turns her head away. When she finally does, I continue, “I promise you. I will never hurt you.” I beg her to believe me with my eyes. Whatever she sees in them makes her decide she can trust me.

“Vanessa smacked me after lunch. They grabbed me on the way to class. She’s made it clear that you are hers and told me to stay away from you.” Tears fall from her eyes as she tells me, and my hands start to shake as I have to try very hard to keep a check on my rage. She must feel my hand shaking because she pulls the one on her face off and holds it in her lap. “Parker, calm down. A little slap and soda are nothing compared to what I have faced. They will stop when they get bored.”

I can’t help myself. I shoot off the bed while roaring, “No fuck that, Emilee.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I see her flinch. I have no thoughts going through my mind as I walk to my wall and put my fist through the sheetrock. Pulling back, I throw another punch hitting the same spot again. It would feel so much better if it was one of them I was punching instead of my wall. Fuck, I’m quickly losing control over my emotions. I lay my head on the wall right below the hole. I’m afraid that Emilee will be scared of what she’s seeing. If I can’t get control of my emotions, I run the risk of scaring her away. I hear the groan of my bed as she stands up. I don’t turn around, but I can hear her walking toward me.

When she finally reaches me, she wraps her arms around my waist, laying her hands on my chest with her head resting on my back. My eyes start to sting with unshed tears, so I don’t turn around to face her. I grab her hands and pull her even closer to me. “Do you hear yourself, baby, a little slap? No one has the right to do that to you. No one has the right to tell you who to talk to. And under no circumstances should someone put their hands on you in anger.” I say softly, kissing the palm of her hand. “Can you tell me the rest of the story? Why are they targeting you in the first place?” I ask, finally turning around in her arms.

I lead her back to the bed and sit closer to her than before. I need to see her face to make sure she isn’t shutting me out or trying to lie again. Now that she has told me a little bit, I know the situation is worse than I imagined. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to hear the rest, but I need to be for her. Someone has to show her that they will listen and protect her. Damn it, I am going to be that person for her.

“If I tell you, you have to make me two promises. First, you cannot tell anyone. I can handle them on my own. Second, you don’t do anything about it. I don’t want them making your life worse.” She doesn’t break eye contact with me. I can’t promise her any of that because I need to do something to protect her. Even if that means breaking down every door until I find them and hurt them just as bad as they hurt her.

“I’m not scared of them, Emilee. I can handle myself if they come for me. Please, I just want to help you.” Placing my hands back on her face, I bite my bottom lip, trying to ignore the need rising inside me. The need to put my lips on her and kiss away the pain. I have only thought about kissing her for the last couple of days, but I’m sure this is not the right time. Fuck it. Leaning my head toward her, I tighten my grip and pull her towards me. Softly I press my lips over hers. Her lips are soft and pillowy. I add just a little bit of pressure. I can feel her suck in a breath and open her mouth, but I don’t move to deepen the kiss. Instead, I lean back, staring into her eyes, and beg her again. “Please, baby, it’s killing me that you are going through something all alone. Let me in.”

CHAPTERTEN

My mind is a jumbled mess, and I can't believe I'm sitting in Parker’s house, about to tell him my secrets. The room fades away when he bites his bottom lip, and I can't pull my eyes away. It's the hottest thing I have ever seen. As soon as his lips touch mine, I forget how to breathe. Holy shit, he's kissing me. I'm so lost in the feel of his lips on mine I forget to kiss him back. I just had my first kiss while I was crumbling in his room. Once his lips aren't on me, my brain starts firing all my worries again. Can I tell him everything that has happened and why it's going on? Can I trust him to not tell anyone or use it against me? My heart screams that he means it when he says he won't. I guess I'm about to find out.

I can see the rage and the pain in his eyes that strangely are a lighter blue than before. Looking back at the hole he made in his wall, I shiver, not because I fear him. If hearing about them smacking me made him do that, how will he react when he finds out about the time they held me down and cut my hair? Or the countless times they tell me to kill myself? I can't keep going like this all alone in this hell hole. I need someone in my corner. I'm getting scared that I'm more worried about waking up than leaving this world.

Not breaking eye contact, I decide to trust him a hundred percent. What's the worst that can happen? I take a deep breath as he grabs my hands, holding them tightly, and start at the beginning. I don’t look up from the floor as I tell him about becoming friends with Christian, about all the hoops I jumped through.

I tell him about Vanessa moving to town and the fight in September. I can feel his rage growing by the minute it rolls off him in waves, and his hands start to shake. I never stop talking because if I do, I won't ever have the courage to start up again.

I tell him about all the times they tripped, hit, and pushed me into things and everything they said to me. Not to mention what they put in my locker. I go on to explain how my grandparents act like I'm not there unless they need something, about how my brothers can do anything, but I have all these rules. Although with them, I make sure he knows that both of them work so hard to provide for us and how I'm sure that they are just tired. Even if I don't believe that myself. I can't help it. It's too much to believe another set of "parents" hate me.

The whole time I'm talking, he doesn't say anything. He just sits there still as a statue. Of course, halfway through, I can't stand being still. So, I get up and pace in front of his bed. As I walk, I pull down on my sleeves and almost push them up because I'm getting hot, but thankfully, I stop myself. When I'm done, I keep staring at his wall with my back toward him. I can feel him when he walks up behind me. I'm quickly turned into his chest when he puts his hands around me. He tips my head up, so I look into his eyes. I know my face is red, and I'm crying again. He doesn't say anything. He just holds me close. The feeling of being safe surrounds me for the first time in a while. I press my nose into him and just breathe in his scent. I can feel him kiss my sticky ass hair, and I cringe.

When he finally lets me go, I start to mess with my sleeves again, looking at his floor. He sighs loudly, which gets my attention. His brows are scrunched. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Look at the floor and constantly mess with your sleeves?" Stepping past him, I start pacing again. There is no way in hell I can tell him that secret. No one can ever find out. He will definitely tell someone.

"I don't know," I lie, not stopping. If I don't calm down, I'll wear a path on the carpet. I don't have time to try to stop because he stops me by stepping in front of me. I run smack into his chest, and while it's a nice chest, it's hard as a rock. Fuck, that hurt.

"I don't believe you. There's more to the story, and I know it," he growls. Before I can stop him, he grabs my arm and pulls my sleeve up. His reaction is exactly what I feared. He gets pissed. His eyes go wide, his nostrils flare, and his jaw locks. Which is his tell that his anger is back in full force. I pull my arm back as quickly as possible, but it's too late. I start yelling at him without noticing I'm right in his face.

---