Page 75 of Emma's Element

The two weeks since the incident at the cabin had been stressful, to say the least. Taking down the father and publicist of a major movie star was big news. Every law enforcement agency had insisted on interviewing her and Marcus. Interviews that sometimes felt like interrogations. So having these few precious hours to herself to sit outdoors and enjoy the warm spring day was everything to Emma. She couldn’t wait until Marcus came home so they could snuggle together on the bench and watch the sunset; a habit that was quickly becoming their “thing.”

Closing her eyes, Emma listened to the sounds of nature around her. The breeze from the lake ruffled the new leaves budding on the trees. The birds chattered happily, ignoring the human in their midst. In the distance, the happy squeals from little children as they played in their yard breezed over to her, a dog barking beside them.

Her thoughts drifted to her worries about Marcus. He usually had trouble sleeping, but it had become worse since his family’s treachery was revealed. Emma knew he needed time to come to grips with what had happened. They’ve talked about it some, and she tried to impress upon him the importance of not letting the betrayal destroy his trust in others. But he struggled.

His biggest battle was being fought internally, and it killed Emma every time she saw him struggle with it, especially since it was unwarranted. The guilt he felt for what his family had done to Emma consumed him. Nightmares plagued him, and it wasn’t helping that Charlie was still missing. He’d pledged numerous resources for the hunt for his brother, to no avail as of yet. The lack of progress only exasperated his feelings of guilt.

Emma knew the battle he was suffering. For her, survivors’ guilt had been very real. And it didn’t help that everybody she’d known and trusted had judged her guilty with only the evidence that she’d lived as their proof. She had wallowed in a deep depression for months. If it hadn’t been for Jolene . . . Well, she didn’t want to think about where she’d be. Jolene’s friendship and love had saved her life, and Emma was determined to do the same for Marcus. She would not let him drown.

But every time his gaze focused on her fading bruises, she saw him slip deeper. While she knew that, given time, her bruises would heal, she understood the wounds of an injured heart lasted a lifetime. His father and brother had wounded him deeply whether he wanted to admit it or not. He’d never had a loving relationship with Harrison, but facing a murderous parent cut deep. And with Charlie, the brother Marcus had tried to shield and bail out numerous times, the damages were more profound. Emma wished she could find a way to cauterize those wounds.

They’d both experienced deep traumas that left them screaming internally. Through her new friends, she’d begun to heal, and she would be forever grateful to them. She was bound and determined to do the same for Marcus. She would not let his silent screams continue. She would enter his pain, listen to his cries, and heal them one reverberation at a time, with her love as the salve.

The sudden fluttering of wings from a flock of birds taking flight startled her out of her musings. The tingle on the back of her neck warned her she was no longer alone. A twig snapped as silence pervaded. Anybody Emma knew would have announced themselves by now. Placing her book down on the bench, she strained her ears, listening for the intruder. She detected heavy breathing, which, strangely enough, sounded menacing.

Slowly, Emma reached in the pocket of her hoodie where she’d stuffed her cell phone. She quickly accessed the speed dial then slipped her phone back in her pocket. Waiting a few seconds for someone to pick up, she stood and faced the intruder.

“Charlie,” she said more calmly than she felt. “It wasn’t very smart of you to come here.”

“Oh yeah?” he sneered, not even bothering to raise the gun he held down by his side. “And why is that?”

“I thought you’d be on a Mexican beach by now, enjoying mojitos with some leggy local girl.”

“That was the plan originally. I just need to take care of a few things before heading south,” he informed her, talking as if they were just two old friends catching up.

“So, what can I do for you, Charlie,” she asked, hoping an affable approach would help to defuse the situation.

It didn’t.

He raised the gun, pointing it at her chest. “You can die,” he spat, disdain infused in the command.

Emma raised her hands, elbows bent slightly, and took an involuntary step back, surprised at how quickly that escalated.What now?Keep him talking. The directive came to her as if it floated in with the wind. Not having any other ideas, she decided to go with that.

“Right, you want me to die. Can I ask why?”

“Because you deserve to die.”

“Well, I don’t believe in your assessment. Perhaps you could explain your reasonings to me before you kill me.”

“Fine,” he barked, his voice laced with irritation. “I want you to die so my brother will suffer.”

Emma nodded as if he made perfect sense. “Why do you think your brother needs to suffer?”

Bitter laughter shot out of his mouth. Emma studied Charlie while he was distracted with humor that only he knew the punch line to. His hair was greasy and unkempt, dark circles surrounded red-rimmed eyes, and his clothes appeared tattered and dirty. He looked like a man on the edge who’d spent the last two weeks living in the woods. Her heart might have gone out to him if it wasn’t for the gun he held on her.

“Marcus needs to suffer as I have all these years.”

“From what I understand, he has suffered as much as you did. He even endured more to shield you from the worst.”

He glared at her without blinking, and she wondered if she had perhaps gone too far with those words. “That is where you are wrong.”

Emma tilted her head, trying to understand what he wanted to convey to her. “Why don’t you explain it to me.”

Charlie sighed deeply, frustration evident in his mannerisms. The gun lowered slightly, allowing her to breathe a little more easily. “My childhood was fucked.”

“Yes, I understand,” Emma agreed. “Harrison was awful to all of you. But Marcus was right there with you through it. From what he’s told me, he’d taken several beatings to protect you and your mother. How was your suffering greater than his?”

His nostrils flared just before he erupted. “Marcus abandoned me!” he roared.

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