Chapter 11

“An accident?” Emma’s lungs deflated and she felt her heart clunk to a stop.

“Get to the hospital now!” Jane repeated, and hung up the phone. The next few moments were a blur. Emma almost dashed out the door, but realized she was still in her club clothes and slept in make-up. She shed off last night’s armor and threw on an old t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. She was a whirlwind of anxiety and panic as she tore through her room, and then out of the door.

“Please go faster,” she urged the cab driver. Feverish hands wiped the make-up off her face with an old make-up wipe at the bottom of her purse. She may look like a mess, but at least she didn’t look like last night’s mess.

The hospital seemed like it was light years away. No matter how fast she implored the driver to go, she never seemed to get close enough. After what seemed like an eternity, Emma leapt from the car and flew into the hospital’s ER. Jane and Anna were sitting in the waiting room. Before she could approach them, Jane was already shrieking at her.

“This is your fault! If you hadn’t come over, this would never have happened!”

“What do you mean? What even happened? He shouldn’t even have been driving!”

Emma’s father had his license revoked due to the many DUI’s he had incurred. He hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car in years.

“He went looking for you,” Anna answered. She, at least, looking slightly concerned.

“For me?” Emma’s legs buckled. She held onto a wall to catch herself.

“He heard you outside of the house yesterday!” Jane yelled. “He wanted to talk to you.”

“How did he even get the keys? Why did you even let him drive?” Emma yelled back.

The last time Emma’s father wasn’t drink was for her high school graduation. He’d been so proud of her. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes as she collected her diploma. When she revealed to him what she decided to study, he sobbed. He apologized for not being there for her, and promised to one day be the father she deserved.

“Don’t try to turn this on me!” Jane countered. As they argued, the ER doors burst open. Doctors and nurses talked back and forth to each other as they pushed a stretcher towards the OR. On top of it, was what looked like a bundle of blood- soaked blankets.

“Get OR nineteen ready STAT,” a surgeon called. “We need 5 units of blood. Have ortho and vascular surgery on stand-by!”

The bundle of blood-soaked blankets groaned, and Emma realized who it was.

“Daddy!” she cried and ran up to the stretcher. “Daddy, I’m here! You have to be okay. You promised, remember?”

“Please move young lady,” a nurse commanded. “He has to get to surgery!” Emma’s father reached out his hand. Emma held it briefly before they team of medical professionals whisked him away, hopefully to save his life.

“Daddy,” Emma breathed. “Please be okay.”

“Emmett Wells,” Jane screamed after him. “You are more trouble that you are worth!”

The OR doors closed and all of Emma’s hopes were with them. Her father was on the verge of death. Anna never moved. She was perched on the plastic waiting room chairs, attempting to maintain a sense of aloofness.

“He can’t die,” Emma sobbed as she slid to the floor. “He just can’t.”

“Well, you better hope he does!” Jane answered.

“How could you—”

“How am I supposed to afford his medical bills? And then how expensive it’ll be to take care of him afterwards? And not to mention paying for the car he practically destroyed! We’re lucky the other driver made it out with only a few bumps and bruises.”

“All you ever think about is money! That is your husband in there!” Emma yelled back. Anger, fear and sorrow bubbled in her blood. She stood and marched at Jane.

“A husband who has drank away every penny I ever had!”

“Shut up, Jane! None of that money was even yours to begin with!”

“You better go to talk to the man he hit. I won’t be involved. That’s your father and I wash my hands of his bullshit!”

“Fine! Anything to get away from you! Where is he?”

“They escorted him out a couple of minutes before you arrived,” Anna answered. “He said a rental car was being sent for him. You can probably catch him.”

Emma threw a snide look at them both and ran out towards the exit. Her hands trembled with fury and woe. Her father lay dying on a cold, operating room table. All she wanted to do was sit in the waiting room and cry her eyes out. That’s what a normal daughter would be able to do. But not her. Not with Jane. Emma wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and looked around for… Well, she wasn’t sure who she should be looking for. No cars were waiting, and no one was waiting for a car.

Just as she turned to walk back inside, a voice greeted. A voice she never thought she’d hear again.

“Well, well, well. We really need to stop meeting like this, Emma.”

*No,* Emma thought. *This isn’t happening.* She turned around and the last person she wanted to see stood there.

***William Stewart.\*** She stumbled back in shock at the sight of him.

“Don’t be so excited to see me,” Will teased. She wanted to slap that sexy smirk off of his face. A soft breeze carried the scent of his cologne over to her. A flash of her writhing in ecstasy beneath him came to her, and for that second all of her problems were gone. He wasn’t in a fancy suit as she had seen him before, but more casual clothes. They framed his body in a way that made Emma hate him and want him all at once. There was a small cut in his forehead that had been stitched up. And it seemed his cheek was bruised. As she drank him in, a frightening thought occurred to her.

“Were you… Were you involved in a car accident late last night or early this morning?” She asked trying to keep calm.

“Yes,” Will answered, his playful demeanor slipped away. “Some drunk driver ran a light and plowed right into me.”

“Oh my God,” Emma said. Her hands flew to her head and she yanked her own hair. “This isn’t happening.”

“I’m fine,” Will reassured her, mistaking her panic as concern for him. “Just some cuts and scrapes. A couple of bruised ribs, that’s it. Nothing to worry about…” Realization dawned on him. “You know who hit me, don’t you?”

“It was my dad,” Emma’s voice trembled with thinly veiled tears. “How much was the damage to your car?”

Will’s face gave nothing away. The usual spark of danger in his eyes was gone. There was no play, no fire. Not even anger or spite. Just nothing.

“About $300,000,” he answered with no emotion. Emma almost fell over. She sold her body for $50,000. She’d have to sell her soul for $300,000. “My car got totaled in the accident. It’s a miracle I walked away the way I did.”

“I can… pay you back in installments,” Emma openly sobbed. “I still need to pay for Jane and Anna’s living expenses, and now Dad’s medical bills. And if I can take on extra shifts at work, I can still afford to eat while… Maybe $250 a month until I pay off every penny could…”

“I’ll have my attorney contact you,” Will said after he could hear no more of Emma’s pleas. “If you can’t manage a lump sum, you can work something out with him. But then of course my attorney’s fees will be tacked on to those monthly fees.”

Before Emma could retort, Jane came running out of the waiting room.

“There you are,” Jane spat. “Your father is out of surgery. His condition is critical but he’s alive for now. They’ve told me the bills will exceed $10,000! I will not be paying that; I still have Anna to care about!”

“Yeah, with my money!” Emma screamed back. Her emotions were raw and she had no energy to hold back anymore. “What happened to our savings? What happened to Dad’s disability money?”

You stupid little bitch!” Jane slapped her. “You better pay that bill! I don’t care if that half-dead drunk gets kicked out on the street!” She stomped back inside.

Will watched the entire exchange with a sort of detachment. This insight into Emma’s life was interesting. Very sad, but interesting.

Emma smoldered with embarrassment. Will watched that whole thing. But she had more to worry about. She took a dee breath and faced him.

“Maybe, if there’s another way I can pay you…?”

A slow smile crept up on Will’s face. Danger shone in his eyes again. He walked up to her and pressed her against the concrete wall.

“What did you have in mind?”