Page 91 of Without a Doubt

“Why do you say it like that? You wouldn't consider spending Thanksgiving with his family?”

“No.” I sigh. “His mom kind of hates me. It's a l

ong story and I didn't do anything wrong, but she doesn't like me anymore. Even if she didn't, it would be awkward. I, ah, sort of knew his brother it turns out.”

“I don't want to know about the brother,” Mom says. “If you ever need to talk about what's going on with his mom, though, you know I'm here.”

“I know, Mom. Thanks. It's been nice talking to you about these things. I'll call more,” I promise, guilt washing over me for how I've neglected to do so lately.

“We're always here for you, you know that. I'll see you in a few weeks, Eva. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”

After hanging up, I begin gathering my items to get ready to go home. I sigh happily at the thought. Home. Emerson is home. One of those giddy squeals escapes me. My life feels complete and I can't wait to see where my relationship with Emerson takes us.

Emerson is at work, so I fix dinner, making sure to fix him a plate for later when I'm done. I was obviously comfortable here before, from the very first time, but now, I feel even more settled here. Once I'm finished eating, I go ahead and clean up the mess I made before going back to my homework. I'm wrapping it up when Emerson comes home, a grin on his face.

“What's with the smile?” I ask as he stalks over to me, taking my laptop and placing it on the ottoman. He swings my legs onto the couch, stretching them out. Then, he settles on top of me, kissing me hard and leaving me breathless when he pulls away.

“I wasn't sure if you were staying at the dorms tonight or not. I didn't know if you might want to spend more time with Catherine.”

I shake my head. “I wanted to be at home.”

His grin widens. He lowers his lips to mine, ending our conversation effectively.

It's been a few weeks since I unofficially moved in with Emerson. It's been bliss. Mostly. There were a few awkward and embarrassing moments of course where, as Emerson might put it, my human side showed. But his did, too, so it evened out.

I fall in love with him a little more every day. He surprises me at work at least once a week. We've been able to talk about Kelly without it feeling as if she was an issue within our relationship. He misses her and mainly regrets how he wasn't able to say goodbye at the very least. Emerson also spoke to his mother last week. She called me two days ago to apologize. I think part of it was because Emerson told her he was coming home with me for Thanksgiving and she was hoping he would change his mind if she apologized.

Too bad, so sad. He's still coming home with me.

We leave tomorrow, but first, I have to survive working today. It's crazy busy for the first three hours. Barry grumbles about every five minutes because he stayed late to help me handle the customers faster. Then, it's like we closed and didn't know it. No one shows for an hour.

“I'm going home, Eva. You're on your own. I've already been here too long.”

“Sucks being a good manager, doesn't it?” I tease.

He glares, but the corners of his mouth tip upward a little. “I don't think it'll get that bad again, but if it does, I know you can handle it. Have a great Thanksgiving, Eva.”

“Thanks, Barry. You too.”

He leaves and I go into the kitchen in the back to wash some dishes. There's a bell on the door, so I'll be able to hear if someone comes in. I've nearly finished when that little bell dings. My heart beats faster, hoping Emerson has come to surprise me. He didn't have to work today, so it could be him.

My heart beats even faster when I hear pounding footsteps, my blood now pumping due to fear and not excitement. As I take a step to head around to the front, the creepy, possible drug addict guy has busted through the door to the kitchen.

I scream and then scream again when I see a large, scary as hell knife in his shaky hand. His eyes are wild, dangerous, and he looks distraught. I don't think he's showered in a few days based on his greasy hair. He takes a step forward and I take a step back, holding up my hands.

“Hey, beautiful,” he rasps, his voice trembling with need, but for what, I'm not sure. He closes the distance between us, grabs my hand with strength I wouldn't have expected him to have, and drags me to the front. “Give me whatever's inside.” His hand moves to grip my shoulder as he uses the knife to point to the register.

“There's not much in there,” I blurt out. Four hundred dollars at the most. We keep only that much in there, putting excess into the safe a hundred dollars at a time if needed. His grip tightens and he shoves me, causing me to hit my hip hard against the counter.

“Give it to me,” he grits.

I glance at the knife. Would he even be able to stab me if he tried? He's shaking so much; he'd either miss me or do a lot of damage. With my own trembling hands, I begin pressing the touch screen to open the register. It pops open as the bell on the door rings. I've barely glanced up when the guy quickly moves behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to hold me in place, the knife now pressed to my neck.

I wince as he nicks me because his hands are shaking and he's applying some pressure. My heart sinks when I see Emerson. His face is ashen as he stares at us. His hands are up in the surrendering gesture.

“Don't hurt her,” he chokes when I yelp, getting nicked again.

---