“Her oxygen levels dropped.” He descended a couple of steps, his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I called the ambulance when I came home for a meal break. Get inside.”
“No, we need to follow her.”
“She won’t wake up tonight,” he told me, “and she’s in good hands. We’ll go in the morning before school.”
The engine revved behind me, and I twisted around as the driver shifted into gear.
No.
“She’s fine, Emmy.”
I didn’t like his tone. Why was he so calm?
“Thank you, Janice,” he called out to the driver as she turned off her lights and waved to us. “Tell Ben thank you.”
They drove off, and I started after them.
“Move another muscle,” he warned, “and she’s never coming back.”
I stopped, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Get inside now,” he ordered.
I stood there, hearing his footsteps and the front door swing open, and I shook my head, wanting to run after her, but he’d find me.
I closed my eyes, the weariness of all the years and the past several days weighing heavy, because Will showing me how happy I could be if things were a little different made all this so much harder to bear.
I was tired.
I almost swayed on my feet. I was so tired.
A curtain slowly fell between my eyes and my brain as I went through the same rage, anger, hurt, pain, sadness, and despair I’d felt a thousand times before.
But now I understood something I never did.
Nothing made sense.
Martin, my home, the terror… It just was, and sometimes you were just that person whom things happened to.
I walked into the house and closed the door, not tensing or clenching or bracing, because it didn’t help.
“That was for last night,” he said as I entered the kitchen and watched him take off his jacket. “Just a warning.”
I blinked once, staring at him. “You did that to her.”
It wasn’t a question. I knew the answer.
His hand curled around the chair back, and his knuckles turned white as he squeezed.
“She’s the only control you have over me,” I told him. “If she dies, there’s nothing keeping me here.”
“And without me, she’d be in hospice or some state home, neglected and in agony.”
We stood on opposite sides of the table, locked in the challenge. What did he want?
Was this really all he had? He acted like he hated me, but would he suddenly be happy if I were no longer here?
Was he going to try to stop me when it was time for me to leave?
“You ran away from me yesterday,” he said. “You were seen at Homecoming, and you were seen at the Cove last night.” He steeled his spine, lifting his chin and tightening his lips. “And I know you know what happened to that crypt.”
So, he got rid of Grandma for the night to show me how much noise he could make without her here.
My jaw ached, I pressed my teeth together so hard. People pushing me. People pulling me. People, people, fucking people….
I told him to deal with me. I said I was to blame.
I told them all to leave me alone and stop pushing me and pulling me, over and over again. No one listens.
Blood rushed to my face, something crawling under my skin with its claws. I rubbed my eyes.
“Take it out on me,” I gritted out. “Leave her alone.”
“But that’s how I take it out on you,” he replied, a smile playing behind his eyes, laughing at me. “And mark my words, there is still so much more I can do.”
I let out a scream, seeing red and too furious to care as the tears filled my eyes. Grabbing the edge of the kitchen table, I shoved it across the floor, the tools in my bag clanking as the table pinned him to the counter.
He growled as I crushed his legs, and I reached into the bag, snatching out a hammer as he threw the table on its side, all the tools in the bag crashing to the floor.
“You stupid little bitch!” he yelled.
I raised the hammer, but he launched out and grabbed my wrist, punching me across the face with the other hand as the tool spilled out of my grasp.
Fire spread across my cheek, but I whipped back around and shot up my knee right between his legs, not wasting a second.
Stop.
Just stop.
He buckled, and I shoved both hands into his chest, sending him flying to the floor. Tears blurred my vision, and I spun around, running from the house.
“Emory!” His bellow hit my back, and I let out a sob, charging down the porch, across the lawn, and as fast through town as I could race.
I hurried past the village, down the road, and deeper into the dark forest, hearing the echo behind me fade more and more as he tried to find me but couldn’t.
“Emory!”
I dove through the trees, the branches whipping my face, and I fixed my glasses as the lights of the town disappeared and sweat covered my back.
My legs ached and tears dried on my face as stitches pulled at my side. I slowed to a jog, eventually falling into a walk.
I should’ve gone to the cathedral. The key was in my pocket, and if everywhere didn’t hurt, I’d laugh at how useful that place had become when I seemed to survive fine without it a few days ago.
I squeezed my eyes shut, blinking long and hard.
What could I do? He was going to kill me.
Or worse.
My grandma would be at the hospital now. I needed to go, even to just sit in the waiting room until they let me see her, but that would be the first place he’d look, and being a minor and all, he could carry me out of there without any argument from anyone.
God…
I walked and walked, hearing the cars on the other side of the trees make their way up and down the road, and even though I didn’t look up, I knew where I was going.
It was as far as I could go.
Crossing the bridge, over the narrow but fast river, I climbed the incline up toward the cliffs where the mansions sat. The Fanes’, the Crists’, the Torrances’, the Ashbys’, blah, blah, blah…
In no time at all, I’d found my way to their quiet, dark lane, lit only by the flickering gaslit lanterns hanging from their high walls and gates.
Will didn’t live up here. His family owned the fortress on the other side of town, near the high school and up in the hills. The massive house that stood high above us all.
I should’ve met him that night he wanted to take me to his house to watch movies. Seeing that place from the inside would’ve surely set my stupid brain straight and solidified my resolve before it was too late.
Sleeping with him only made it hurt more now.
I followed the road past the estates, past quiet and deserted St. Killian’s, and then I cut through the forest, past the Bell Tower, and into the cemetery.
I had no idea what time it was, but all that remained were the remnants of whatever party the Horsemen had had here earlier. It couldn’t be any later than midnight or one, and St. Killian’s was dark just now. They weren’t at the catacombs anymore.
I strolled through the cemetery, seeing the damage we did to the crypt and Edward McClanahan’s freshly dug grave was filled back in because he was staying right there. My brother couldn’t have the discounted hole anymore.
But darkness covered every corner of the graveyard, the moonlight barely visible through the clouds.