“She’s lucky I don’t hit women, because if she was a guy, I’d have already shoved my fucking fist down her throat.”
“It’s just a shirt, it’s okay,” I assure him, placing a hand against his chest. I can feel the heat rippling beneath my palm, the heavy beat thud of his heartbeat there too.
“It’s not okay…” He growls. “I’ve never regretted screwing around with someone as much as I do her. If I had known I’d meet you, I never would’ve touched any of those chicks.” Disappointment hangs between us.
“Shh, it’s okay, Clark. I’ve dealt with mean girls for a long time now. A little drink spilling and word slinging is something I can handle.” Worse things have happened to me. Literally. This is nothing.
Shaking his head, he leans down, his eyes peering into mine. I want to drown in their depths, let them wash away all my misery, my fear, and pain. Those golden orbs flick down to my mouth. Is he going to kiss me? I really hope so. A thin sheet of perspiration coats my palms. The pulse in my throat throbs, filling my ears with nothing but the sound of my thundering heartbeat. Licking my lips, I prepare myself for a kiss. I want his lips, need them. Clark is my kryptonite, the one person that sees me for me, sees beyond the crippling anxiety, the inky fear that claims me.
“I want to kiss you, Em, can I kiss you?” Clark whispered, his voice hoarse, clogged with emotions that I can’t decipher in that moment.
“Yes, please…” I reply, the muscles in my belly tightening, twisting, and knotting.
A soft smile ghosts his lips and then he’s descending on me. I let my eyes drift closed, wanting to absorb the kiss for all it’s worth, but his lips never touch mine. Instead, I feel his entire body pressing against mine, nearly crushing me against the side of the house if it weren’t for his strong forearms braced beside my head.
“What the fuck?” he growls as he twists around, a scowl forming. Moving I peek around Clark and spot a guy that I’ve never seen or met before. He’s about the same height as Clark but isn’t nearly as muscled.
“Can I help you?” Clark grits out. The guy smirks, but his eyes don’t match that smirk. They’re glassed, and brimming with sadness, anger.
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you were going to give me a chance to fuck your girlfriend like you did mine?”
I can’t hide the gasp, it slips past my mouth before I can stop it. He slept with this guy’s girlfriend? I don’t know why I’m surprised by that admission and I’m in no way judging Clark, but I had assumed he wouldn’t have done something so crappy.
Clark’s body tenses at the sound, the muscles of his back rippling underneath the cotton t-shirt. With his fists clenched down at his sides I’m sure he looks every bit as menacing as he’s attempting to be, but I don’t want another fight, so I sneak around him, placing a gentle hand against his bicep.
His eyes whip down to where my hand is resting the hard contours of his face soften, but only briefly.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The guy laughs, sadly, his hardened gaze swinging to me. I can feel his eyes raking over my face, chest, and down, and I shiver, hating how insecure it makes me feel.
Even with the way he’s acting, I still feel sorry for him. He sways on his feet unsteadily. “Let me give you a taste of your own medicine, Clark.” The sneer passes his lips and he twists toward me faster than a drunk person should be able to. I don’t even get a chance to react to his movements before he’s grabbing me his fingers digging into the tender flesh of my forearm as he leans down his lips descend on mine. Alcohol and sweat fill my nostrils.
No. No. This can’t be happening.
Squeezing my eyes shut I prepare myself for what’s to come…a loud, angry roar forces my eyelids to flutter open.
“What the fuck!” Clark seethes, wedging his body between us, forcing me to take a step back or be stepped on. My mouth goes dry, and my stomach twists painfully. This isn’t going to end well.
“You stole my girlfriend, fair is fair…” The guy smirks, and before I can even blink Clark’s got his fist in his face. I gasp in horror at the violence that’s rippling out of him.
One punch.
Two punch.
I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears with my hands. There’s some type of commotion taking place. People yelling. Bodies hitting the ground.
You’re okay, everything is okay.
I start to count back from one hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven...my pulse thundering in my ears drowning out the sounds around me. Tension coils in my gut, twisting and turning, tightening until there is nothing but pain radiating out of my abdomen. I double over, my hands falling from my ears and to my stomach.
“Emerson…” Someone calls my name, but I ignore them. I never should’ve come here tonight. I don’t know why I thought I could be normal, why I thought there was a chance I would overcome the pain. Stupid. I’m so stupid. The nightmares that plague me at night sneak into my mind and suddenly I’m back in my room, back at home, and he’s there...
“Do you think they’ll believe you if you tell them I raped you?” He laughs. I already know the answer, no one will believe me. A man as powerful as him, with as much money as him. He’ll be able to twist my words.
“I’ll just tell them that you’re a whore...that you begged me for it.” Like a snake moving through thick grass, he stalks toward me. Bile burns up my throat, and I have to swallow down the vomit. He reaches out his hand landing on my shoulder, his fingers sinking into my flesh…
“Emerson.” A soft voice caresses my ear and then I feel it, a hand on my shoulder, burning into my flesh. Marking me. He’s here. He’s got me. My eyes pop open and a scream rips from my throat before I can stop it. I pull away, my gaze colliding with Ava’s concerned one as I stagger backward, tripping over my own feet, and landing hard on the grass.
“Please don’t…” I whisper, my lips trembling my entire body shaking. People are whispering their words surrounding me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I try and forget where I am. Physically I cannot escape this situation, but mentally, I can. Mentally I can disappear. Holding myself tighter, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood I wish for Clark’s arms to be around me.
I want him. I need him. He’ll never hurt me. But he is. He has. My subconscious reminds. Burrowing deep inside my head, I try and find a place I can hide.
“Em baby… I’m sorry, so sorry…” Clark’s voice penetrates the haze, gripping onto me and pulling me from the shadows of my mind. I cannot escape this man, nor would I want to. A second after his words are spoken, he’s picking me up off the ground, and pulling me into his chest. Unwinding my arms, I grab onto the fabric of his chest and inhale his scent.
Clean, with a hint of citrus.
Mine.
With my eyes still closed, I let him whisk me away, rescuing me from the chaos once again.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Em. I didn’t think. All I did was see red,” he whispers into my hair, cradling me to his chest. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to tell me he’s sorry, that I already know, but I don’t. Instead, I let him hold me. I let him protect me from the fear that still eats away at me, all while wondering if Clark can save me from this…