Of course it’s fucking locked.
The realization only makes me panic more. I can’t get to her… I can’t save her, not with this door between us.
“Emerson, open up!” I slam my palm to the wood, but instead of waking her up, her screams intensify, growing louder. I can hear the pain, feel the fear in her scream. My jaw and gut clench at the same time. I can’t bear this. I can’t listen to her scream without doing something.
Unable to listen to her screams a second longer, I step back and lift my foot kicking against the door in the area closest to the lock. All it takes is one kick, and with a loud crash, the door gives away and swings open, slamming against the wall harshly.
I’m not prepared for what I find on the other side of that door.
Emerson is on the bed, her arms whaling around her, her body tangled up in her blanket. She’s still screaming, and I notice fresh tears slipping down her cheeks as I rush to her side. Unsure of what I should do I do the only thing that seems to have ever worked, and wrap my arms around her, engulfing her small form in mine, while pulling her tight to my chest.
“Shhh Em, it’s okay. Wake up for me. It’s a nightmare, no one is going to hurt you.” I cradle her on my lap like a small child, holding her arms in a gentle grasp so she can’t hurt either one of us.
“Please… stop…” she whimpers between sobs. Her eyes are still closed, but I can make out her scrunched up face as if she is in pain, even with nothing but the hallway light filtering into the room.
My chest clogs with emotions that I don’t understand at seeing her like this. It literally hurts, the bones throbbing as if someone kicked me in the sternum. Never in my life did I think I would feel this way about someone, that I would want to take someone else’s pain, fears, but I want them. I’d gladly carry the weight, just to see her smile instead of her lips trembling with fear. I want to help her and make her feel better, but I don’t know how and that’s the worst part of all of this. I don’t know how to help her.
Her whole body is vibrating, shaking like a leaf in the wind, while big fat tears roll down her cheeks. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, willing her to wake up from this nightmare, to open her big blues. A thin layer of cold sweat meets my lips at the brief contact, and I hold her a little tighter, making sure she is warm, safe, secure.
“Clark?” she finally calls out to me, her voice hoarse, quiet, but still music to my ears. I pull away, but only enough to look at her face. I’m not ready to let her go just yet. My eyes collide with a pair of swollen blues, a haunting look rippling inside them, and yet they’re the prettiest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. Secrets as deep as the ocean reside inside of her, and though I’ve only known her for a short time, it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.
Funny, I can’t imagine what Vance would think if he heard me talking like this.
“I’m here, it’s okay,” I try to soothe her. “It was a dream, you’re safe here.” I feel like I’ve already told her this five times today, but if I have to, I’ll tell her five million more times, if that’s what it takes to make her see that she’s safe, to feel it, then I’ll do it.
I won’t stop telling her until she believes me.
I gaze down at her, taking her in… taking in this moment. The realization hit me that this is the most intimate I have ever been with anybody. The state she is in right now makes her extremely vulnerable, I can see it in her eyes, this is her stripped bare. Her soul laid out at my feet.
She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her visibly calming. Her body becoming less and less rigid in my grasp. It’s almost like she is sinking into my arms, becoming more, and more comfortable in my embrace. After a short while, when I’m certain she’s okay, I start to pull back. No matter how much I want to hold her in my arms, I know I shouldn’t.
I can’t grow attached to her, at least not in a sexual way. And I can already feel myself growing attached, wanting to protect her, feeling possessive over her. I don’t want her out of sight, and only in my arms. I want to shield her from the rest of the world.
“Are you...are you okay?” I ask, pulling back a little more.
“Yeah… do you…” She starts to stutter, her eyes on my chest as if she’s ashamed, or afraid to say whatever is on her mind. “Can you… will you stay with me? At least for a little bit.” The organ in my chest beats furiously, and looking down at her, seeing the anguish in her face how can I say no?
“Of course, I’ll stay as long as you need me to. Can I asked you something thought?”
“Yes,” she whispers hesitantly.
“Does your dad or your mom know? Did you ever talk to anyone about what happened to you?” I know I’m in dangerous territory here, I’m no expert, but I highly doubt this is something she wants to be asked.
“No, no one knows. I never told my father and my mother died when I was a baby.”
“I’m sorry, Em. About your mom and about what happened to you. I’m here… if you ever want to talk about anything,” I offer, not expecting her to say anything, at least not yet.
“I was fifteen when it happened,” she says, her voice breaking at the end as tears roll down her beautiful face. My stomach is in knots thinking about it. Fifteen, she was only fifteen.
She doesn’t say anything after that, but I’m glad she shared that little bit of information with me because it’s a step forward.
Emerson closes her eyes and turns her face, doing one thing I never expected her too. Without hesitation, she buries her face into my chest. I’m wearing a t-shirt, but I might as well be naked because all I feel is her hot breath against my skin. I listen as she softly inhales, and like the smug fucker I am, I grin.
It doesn’t take long for her ragged breathing to even out and finally I allow myself to relax. I know she is placing a lot of trust in me right now. Letting herself fall asleep in my arms, letting me hold her in her bed.
I can only imagine what she’s gone through and she isn't just letting me do these things she wants me to. I can’t help but feel prideful in how much she trusts me. I got her to feel safe with me and something tells me she doesn’t feel safe with many people, maybe not with anyone at all.
I watch her sleep for a long time, wondering who the hell would hurt her and how I’m going to get her to tell me more. I need to know who did this… I need to know so I can make them pay. I'm consumed by her, this bright red-haired beauty with big blue eyes, and petal pink lips. A girl has never held my attention before, not unless I was fucking them, and somehow Emerson not only has my attention, but she has the rest of me too. She’s weaseled her way into my mind, into my every waking thought.
For once it isn't about the physical aspect, though I would be down to screw Emerson. That I'll admit. Of course right then she decides to squirm in my arms rubbing against my already semi-hard cock.
This is bad.
Think about something else, anything else. Hairy assholes, mole rats, one-eyed hookers. I try to imagine the least sexy and most disgusting things I can, but all I can feel is her perfect little body rubbing against mine. Her hot breath fanning out on my chest and her almost inaudible whimpers vibrating through me.