CHAPTER67
I gulp down air, pulling it all back in, and focus instead on getting the hell away from this place. I hate Chicago! I glare out at the passing scenery and just feel like I’m suffocating.
I pull out my cell and see an email from Jake, instantly bringing softness to my face and lifting my mood. He always brings me back from craziness, even when I think nothing will, and I hurry to open it.
“Jake Carrero has sent you an iTunes gift.”
“Just Give Me A Reason” by Pink.
I gawp at it with confusion, sure I’m missing the message. I press play listening to the song, trying to decipher the meaning for sending it and can’t. I glance at the time of the email and realize he sent it at four in the morning, most likely when he was out with Daniel. This was instead of a drunk dial episode.
It seems to be a song about learning to love again, yet it causes a pain in my chest as I absorb it; it’s beautiful and deep, but I can’t see the connection. The title confuses me. I’ve no idea what to send back to him. Maybe I shouldn’t send anything because he was obviously intoxicated when he sent it. I like the fact he was thinking of me at that time though, while surrounded by friends and women, even if it makes no sense.
Maybe it was a mistake and he’d meant to send something else? Knowing Jake, it was related to his current thought and probably stupidly obvious in his state.
It plagues me as we head back toward my mother’s apartment, but it’s a welcome distraction. Jake isn’t usually so cryptic though; his songs are either all about the title, or at least they usually have some obvious message in the lyrics. This time I have no idea.
I slide out of the car and dismiss the driver in front of the shady convenience store, ignoring the two drunk men sprawled on the pavement. It looks as though one of them is laying in a puddle of urine, and I grimace as I scoot past and let myself in the side door. I intend to pack while waiting for Sophie, as I want us to leave tonight; there’s no reason to prolong the agony of this place any longer than that.
I turn the corner onto the upper landing, the keys in my hands ready to let myself in. A noise in front of me causes my head to snap up in reaction, and I take in a dark figure standing against the wall in the shadows. I freeze, blood coursing through me at speed, sending my heart rate up. There’s something familiar yet terrifying about the figure. I know they see me too, and I stand still, hoping I don’t make it obvious that I am rattled. They continue staring back at me.
“Well, well, well,” the hoarse gritty voice comes at me icily, my body recoiling inside and my brain freezing at the sound. Even after all this time I know that voice, and it makes my insides shrivel up.
Ray Vanquis stands five feet away from me like a mad man in the shadows, his eyes glinting cruelly, before he steps into the light. Six feet of tattooed, menacing rage and muscle, he’s the devil from my nightmares. I gasp and my body goes into high alert, adrenaline coursing as I begin to tremble. Fear grips me, but I stand my ground.
Oh, my god!
“What are you doing here?” I snap coldly, bringing my shorter height up to appear more menacing, attempting to look in control. Ice and hatred are in my voice as teen Emma bristles up, getting ready to defend adult Emma. Every hair stands on end.
“I came by to see Jocelyn … to talk to her.” He sounds amused because he thinks I’m intimidated by him, but he keeps his distance. My body vibrates with nerves. I reach into my bag and feel for my cell; it’s the only other thing I have that I can use as a weapon besides my keys. I have nothing else, not even my trusty mace that used to be a constant when I lived here. I think of the baseball bat in my old closet, something I slept with many a night, and wonder if I can get inside to get it, to feel safer while in the presence of this monster.
Would he follow me? Is he going to hurt me?
“What could my mother have to say to you after all this time?” I spit, edging toward the door slowly but keeping my gaze firmly on him as I near him, untrusting. He smirks, and with that look, a light switches on in my head.
Surely not? She wouldn’t do this to me, even the way she is. She wouldn’t take back Ray after what he did to me and have a relationship with him again, would she?
The confusion, anger, and panic whizzes through my head at a hundred miles an hour. It’s obvious he sees the realization dawn on my face, and he grins in that lop-sided sneer he has. He’s the one she’s been with, the one who beat her to a pulp. It flashes like a spark in my head pushing all rational and logical behavior completely out of sight.
“You bastard!” I scream and lunge without thought, fueled by hatred. My nails and keys slice at his face as I attempt to kick at him. He’s surprised by my fierce, impulsive attack, caught off guard, and tries to shield his face as I rain my fists on his head. It’s a stupid, insane move. His rage ignites. Grabbing my wrists, he thrusts me hard against the wall, knocking the breath out of me. He spins me and shoves me roughly into the cold concrete wall with enough force to almost break ribs, and I gasp for air, adrenaline spiking with ferocity. Memories of his attack so many years ago flash through my mind, and I fight back with all my might, pure survival instinct. Pushing myself back hard using hands and knees so that I collide with him, I elbow and stamp as he tries to encircle me. Teen Emma is in full rage and fight mode.
I started this and I know there is no one to save me this time. He’s twice my size, multiple times my strength. I’m no match. He lifts me off my feet, squeezing around my pinned body with his huge arms so that I can’t breathe. I begin to gasp. I can’t move. Nausea rises with the blackness coming in around me, terrified I’ll pass out. I know what he’ll do to me if I do. I struggle to pull air into my lungs and focus on staying conscious, my voice lost in an effort to breathe.
Without warning, he violently throws me on the floor in a heap and cackles as I crumble into lifeless submission. He kicks me, so I fall forward into a slump, and walks off laughing, amused at his conquest, leaving me broken, devastated, and huddled like a child.
I break down and cry, crumpled on the ground. He’s achieved the humiliation he desired, satisfied with his little power trip and exertion over me. He’s showed me who is still boss as he goes on his way while giving himself a high five, and I want to die. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
I crawl to my feet, falling against the front door weakly. Sobs rack my body painfully as I pull myself up to rest against the door and drag air into my bruised lungs. My forehead falls against the chipped surface as I try wildly to ground myself and bring some sense of calm back to my despair. Shame descends over me at my own defeat, my own stupidity. My fingers and hands splay across the door as I try to keep my body from self-imploding while shaking violently. I stand in the shadows gulping down air frantically.
“Emma?” Jake’s voice is suddenly behind me, then he’s beside me hauling me into the warm protective circle of his arms, a crazy surreal instance. His heady scent and warm body envelopes me into safety. It’s like being lifted into a bubble of protection, a home coming, and all I can do is submit.
Oh, my god. Jake, my perfect Jake!"
