Page 107 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“It isn’t different.” But it is. “She’s not.” But she is. “We’re not.” But we are. “We’re just fucking.” But it feels like so much more tha
n that.
“Yeah, you keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ll start putting money down on the 49ers to win the Super Bowl with this shitty ass team they have this year.”
The game drones on, Grady groaning with every turnover—and there are a lot—while I stare out the windows to the backyard and watch the sky change colors as the sun sets. I’m supposed to be relaxing and preparing for my upcoming interview, but all I can think about is Emerson. Did I push her too far and get too personal when she is so obviously used to running away?
“Hey, Grant?”
“Yup,” I say distractedly.
“I think I’m gonna head out.”
“What?” I look at him, confused as to why he’s leaving at halftime when I know the cable is jacked at his house. “What about the second half?”
“I have shit to do.” I narrow my eyes at him at the same time he juts his chin toward the front door.
I turn around and find Emerson standing on the other side of the screen. Her face is expressionless and her hair is pulled back, but it’s her eyes that are shadowed and sad.
“Em? You okay?” I’m on my feet as Grady opens the screen and gives her a soft greeting before jogging down the path toward his car. “Emerson?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . I just didn’t want to be alone.” Her voice is barely audible.
“No. Please. Come in.” I have my arm around her shoulders and am guiding her into the house. She seems so frail when I’ve never thought her to be anything but the opposite. We move to the couch, and she sits beside me as if she’s on autopilot. Concern rifles through every part of me.
Within seconds, I have the television off and the police scanner on the table beside me silenced. The overwhelming urge to hold her, touch her, soothe that look out of her eyes is too much, so I pull her into me—her head to my chest—and wrap my arms around her.
“What’s going on, Em?”
“My head’s messed up,” she says.
“We all have messed-up heads,” I murmur, my lips against the top of her hair, my fingers rubbing up and down her arms. It’s only when she hisses that I realize my fingertips have run over the ridge of scars, causing me to jerk my hand back in guilt over hurting her.
“Not like mine,” she eventually says.
“Want to talk about it?”
Her chuckle is despondent. “Do you know how many times in my life I’ve been asked that question? Therapist after therapist until I got so sick of being picked apart I just up and quit going.”
“I can imagine,” I say but know I have absolutely no fucking clue what she has been through. “Did something happen today?”
“Today? No. The other night? Yes.” She lets out a deep breath. Her vulnerability transparent and haunting since I’ve never seen this side of her. “I can’t stop thinking about Keely. I can’t stop obsessing over whether her dad is doing to her what mine did to me. I can’t stop wondering about what other horrible things he has done to her mother that she’s been a witness to. It’s messing me up, Grant, and that’s really hard for me to admit.”
“Sh. Sh. Sh,” I say, guilt riding me hard over being the one to bring this all upon her. This is on me. The little girl I see as her, she does, too, and there’s nothing I can do to reassure her that Keely will be okay. So, I just hold her a little tighter and press my lips to the top of her head while we both process the turn of events.
Her needing me, and my wanting her to need me.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to save her, Em, but without her mom pressing charges or the little girl admitting anything, I have zero legal rights. My hands are tied.”
“And that’s why you were talking to her about the rocks.”
My hand stills halfway down her back. This is the first time she’s reacted to any mention of the rocks. For a while, I thought maybe it was a fake memory I had created to deal with her leaving even though I know for a fact it was real.
“What do you mean?” I fish.
“The rocks. You were kneeling, talking to her, picking up rocks that I couldn’t see but that I knew had color on them.”
“Mm-hmm.”
