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FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 32
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"Let's go home now, Emilia," he murmured, smoothing my hair back from my forehead.
His face was cut in half by the stark shadows of streetlights. Half dark and half light. His one visible eye glittered at me and I saw triumph in his gaze. He smoothed my hair again, and my stomach lurched. I swallowed hard to keep the bile down. "How did you find me?"
He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. "You're stupider than I ever imagined," he hissed, keeping his voice low for the benefit of the still lingering police officers. "Enough of this. Get in the car."
"No."
"Emilia," his voice was a warning. "Get in the car." His fingers dug painfully into my skin, bringing tears to my eyes.
"Everything okay, Mr. Whitestone?" A female officer came towards us, her boots crunching on the gravel. She bent and picked up the blanket from where it lay in a heap on the ground. "Here, Emilia," she said, handing it to me. "You're probably in shock. Best to keep warm."
Her voice was kind. Robert's smile stretched wide, and he stroked my arm fondly. The darkness hid the marks where his nails had pierced my skin.
"You're a lucky woman," she continued, looking at Robert. "He wouldn't give up on finding you. Night and day he was searching. Luckily we had that breakthrough."
"Breakthrough?" The word fell out of my lips but I didn't recognize my own voice.
"The letter mailed by the accused. He was stupid enough to send it from his hideout."
"He mailed a letter?"
"He made you write it, didn't he Emilia? Saying you had left? But I knew you would never leave me. And Officer Wilkens said that lowlife had been hanging around for a week now. Stalking you." Robert's voice was stern, prompting me on the proper script to recite.
The letter. My breakup letter. J. had sent it out for me in the club's mail. And it had brought Robert right to their doorstep.
"You're a very lucky woman," the officer repeated. I shivered at the fawning note in her voice.
"Let's go home, Emilia." Robert tugged on my arm, dragging me to the car he rarely ever drove. The officer watched us, and her eyes softened at the fierce display of the protective fiancé rescuing his helpless bride-to-be from the clutches of a ruthless biker. As he pushed me into the passenger seat, I realized it was all over. There was no use fighting.
He had won.
Chapter 32
Emmy
"..stupid fat whore, did you get enough of that nigger's cock or have you turned into a complete slut? I knew you were a dumb bitch, but this kind of stupidity is a new level, even for someone like you...."
Robert's insults washed over me, and every nasty word echoed a thousand times in the hollow space inside of me. He alternated between flinging insults at me and then swearing at the other drivers on the highway. His rage was as dangerous and capricious as a tornado.
"...fucking jackass, press the gas pedal and then the car will go..."
The drive back to Philadelphia was plagued by traffic. I don't know why Robert found this surprising. Probably because he so rarely drove himself. If the driver got stuck in a traffic jam, Robert could just lean back and close his eyes, or maybe answer some emails on his endlessly pinging Blackberry. To actually have to sit and stare at the brake lights of the car in front of him was an experience he wasn't used too.
And it was making him even angrier than he already was. "...who the fuck you think you are, anyway. Piece of trailer trash from Pennsyltucky. You're nothing without me and you know it....” Spittle flew from his mouth and the vein at his temple throbbed an angry warning.
I was in serious trouble.
I wedged myself against the passenger door. But I was not out of his arms' reach. Try as I might, I could not shrink myself down to nothing. I could only hope that the traffic would clear soon so he would have to pay attention to the road again.
"...moving up the wedding date so you'll never pull a stunt like this again."
I looked at my ring finger. He hadn't noticed it was gone yet. The bare space on my hand gave me the tiniest shred of pride. He didn't own me anymore.
"...need sleep and then we have to get back up here. You will tell them he kidnapped you from our apartment. Wilkens will corroborate. I already have a lawyer. If you don't cooperate, so help me god Emilia...."
I thought of J. alone in a cell, with no one behind him and the whole weight of the Whitestone fortune against him. They wanted him out of the way. Robert wanted me back in his clutches and would stop at nothing to get it.
"...violent felon like that away for good. Get him off the streets and back behind bars where an animal like that belongs...."
I looked at my finger again. In all his plotting, Robert had overlooked one tiny detail. His plan centered on one assumption. That I wouldn't fight back.
I clenched my fists and the ghost of pain in my knuckles felt like strength.
If I wasn't going to fight for myself, then I would fight for J.
"You're lying."
Robert turned to me in shock. I had never contradicted him before. His mouth hung open wide for a moment before he snapped it shut into an evil smile.
"I'm afraid not, Emilia. Your secret lover spent six years in the slammer for armed robbery and assault. He's a lowlife animal." Robert chuckled. "Only you could be so blindingly stupid."
My shock quickly diminished and I made my decision. J.'s past meant nothing compared to the man he was now. Robert meant to hurt me with this new information but there was nothing left to hurt. For him to hurt me, I needed to have feelings for him. I needed to care what he thought. He assumed I still did.
And that was his second mistake.
We turned into the garage below his building in silence. Robert seemed satisfied by my lack of reply. He took my speechlessness for fear. He thought he had me cowed.
My heart thumped wildly as he opened the passenger door. He wouldn't do anything in the parking garage. There were cameras here. He wouldn't hurt me until we were safely back in the penthouse.
Each step I took brought me closer to the door.
He crossed the lobby so quickly I had to trot to keep up. His fingers were sunk deep in my flesh. It was happening fast. Too fast.
"Welcome back Miss Hawthorne! Glad to see you are well!"
"She is, Officer Wilkens, and we have you to thank for it." Robert paused in front of the desk, holding me close. "We owe you a huge debt of gratitude, don't we Emilia?"
Officer Wilkens raised his eyebrows at me expectantly. My stomach churned in fear. He had been spying on me, for how long I didn't know. Because of him, J. was sitting in a jail cell, falsely accused. The rage that had been simmering inside of me reached a boiling point.
When I didn't answer right away, Robert stepped back. "Emilia," he prompted, gesturing towards the expectant Wilkens.
"No."
Officer Wilkens only looked at me quizzically. But I heard the sharp sound of Robert's shock. And that was what I was looking for.
"Fuck you, you evil piece of shit." The words tumbled from my mouth as I spoke my truth. "You've hurt me for the last fucking time. Do you hear me?"
Robert quickly recovered from his shock and chuckled mildly. "Emilia, you're talking nonsense. We need to get you to bed."
"I said no!" I flung my arm back, out of his grasp.
"Emilia!" He lunged forward.
That was the chance I needed. With my feet planted firmly, I twisted back with my hips, then let my fist fly through the air with the full force of my strength. I didn't stop when my fist crashed into Robert's jaw. I punched through his face in a mighty arc, snapping his head to the side and sending him reeling backwards to land on the floor.
"We're through. Don't ever come near me again!"
I was out of the door before he could recover. I never looked back as I sprinted away from him as fast as my legs could carry me.
Chapter 33
Emmy
The dorms for the U of Arts were only a few blocks away. I hoped beyond hope that Sammie was
still where I remembered her. Where our room used to be. I hoped she hadn't moved out and gone home. It was hard to believe that our lunch was only a week ago.
I burst into the lobby of the dorm and jammed my fingers into the call button. The aging system squawked to life and I heard a tinny but familiar voice. "Who the fuck...?"
"Sammie, It's Emmy."
"Emmy?" I heard fumbling staticky sounds that masked her next outburst. "...doing here?"
"I need help, Sam."
"Of course." I heard the relief in her voice and knew she knew exactly what had happened. She held the buzzer down so long I was in the lobby before it stopped.
It was surreal bursting into my old room. She was still on the same side, the walls still decorated with her artwork and the huge, signed Tegan and Sara poster that was her pride and joy. But my side was different. Of course she had a new roommate, why would I think it was different? The world had gone on without me while I rotted in the penthouse.
"You left him," she stated flatly when I stepped into the room. Her face was deadly serious.
I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my pounding heart. "I did."
She crushed me to her chest, but there was no triumph in her eyes. My best friend knew me too well. "What do you need?"
"I don't have much time. He's trying to get me back, Sammie. And he's using the police to help him."
She stepped back from me and pressed her bright-red lips together in a thin line. "Tell me what I need to know."
"I met another man, Sammie. And he's wonderful." Tears flooded my eyes. I tried to hide the hitch in my voice. "We were up that bed and breakfast outside of New Hope, the one you and I stayed at over Christmas break last year, remember? So I wouldn't have to go home to my family?"
She nodded, the tears filling her eyes at the memory.
"But Robert tracked me down. He was using the lobby guard to spy on me, Sammie. The guard is going to say that J. was stalking me and kidnapped me from the penthouse."
"...the fuck?"
"Robert's money," I spat. "He can do anything because his last name is Whitestone."
Her eyes flashed. "No he fucking can't."
"He can," my voice was rising higher. "He can unless I fight back. J. is in jail right now, up there in Bucks County. They're holding him for my statement. Robert was going to make me say I was kidnapped. If he gets to him before I do, I don't know what he will do. The lobby guard is an ex-cop, they'll believe him over J. I need to get up there and free him, get him out of there, before Robert presses false charges."
"Do you need a ride?" She was already grabbing her keys.
I thought for a minute. She was in my corner. I had someone to fight for me, but I needed someone for J. too. "I do. But not up there right away."
"Where to then?" She had her purse on her shoulder.
I looked at my best friend, the one I had neglected for months, as she stood in our old dorm room with her hand poised on the doorknob, ready to ride off into the night to help me. The tears that had been threatening now finally spilled over and I dissolved into helpless sobs.
Sammie grabbed me again and I sank into her gratefully. My tears flooded the back of her bright purple sweatshirt as she stroked my hair and murmured into my ear. "Emmy, Emmy, Emmy," she whispered, rocking me in a rhythm with her words. "I'm so glad you're back Emmy. Everything is going to be all right."
I took a breath. "Okay," I answered, hoping the lie would make me believe myself. Believe her.
"So where to?" she prompted, handing me a tissue.
I dabbed at my eyes and exhaled again. "I need to go talk to a biker gang."
Chapter 34
Emmy
My five minutes was up. Sammie bolted from her car and sprinted across the empty street. "What the fuck is going on?" she hissed.
I bounced lightly on my toes as I watched Crash's limping form disappear into the dark. His heavy tread seemed even heavier than normal. "He's sounding the alarm," I whispered.
Sammie slipped her hand into mine, and together we waited at the fence line. Every moment that went by was one more moment J. was in jail. One more moment for Robert to get ahead of me, to out think and out maneuver me. One more way for him to win.
I squeezed Sammie's hand, trying to calm myself. "Jesus!" she hissed.
"Fuck. Too tight. Sorry," I apologized. She rubbed her hand grimly and stared daggers as the darkened door of the clubhouse.
When a figure emerged in the doorway, I was surprised to see that it was Teach. He moved quickly down the walkway, dreads swinging in time with his steps. "Emmy!" he called.
His face was illuminated in the light of Sammie's headlights and I gasped. A deep, purple chasm had been opened across his cheek. It was swollen so badly, his left eye was squinted almost shut. I saw several bald patches where his dreads had been pulled out. He unlocked the gate stiffly, holding his arms carefully by his sides.
"What happened?" I breathed.
"I could ask you the same thing, Emmy," he intoned. "Who's your friend?"
Sammie stepped forward belligerently, but I shot out my arm and blocked her path. "This is Sammie." I gulped. "She's on me."
Teach snapped his head to me in surprise, and then nodded slowly. "Come inside, ladies."
We both squinted in the sudden light of the store. I could hear the rest of the Sons milling about back in the clubhouse. The grumble of sleepy voices in worried conversation. Crash must have told them already.
But nothing happened until Teach gave the word. I knew that. So when he turned to face me from his perch behind the counter, I tried to ignore the ruin of his face and speak my piece.
But when I inhaled, the only thing that I could say was, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he answered gruffly. "It's the other guys you need to be worrying about."
It started to dawn on me. "The Storm Riders."
He nodded slowly as Crash and Case emerged in the doorway. I could see Crash leaning heavily on his good leg, using the doorframe for support. Behind him loomed the huge mass of Case. His torso was bare and wrapped tightly in medical tape. He grimaced every time in breathed in. Several mottled bruises bloomed across his chest.
"How bad was it?" I breathed.
"Bad enough," Teach answered tightly. "But not as bad as having the police come sniffing around two days later.
"Looking for you," Case rumbled, all traces of his earlier friendliness gone.
I cursed Robert under my breath. "I know, and they found me." I took a deep breath. Speak your truth. "They got J. My ex is claiming he kidnapped me."
They didn't reply, only exchanged confused looks.
"They got J.!" I repeated. Sammie placed a warning hand on my back, and I struggled to calm myself. "We were up near New Hope. My ex tracked us down. The police arrested J."
I heard Case suck in his teeth and I knew I was getting through to them. "I know he was in prison. So does my ex. If he gets there before I do, he's going to file false charges. He has money. He has lawyers and cops on his side. The only thing that will save J. is if I get there first."
"You're gonna stand for him?" Teach rumbled.
I was taken aback. "Of course I am."
"What're you gonna say?"
"That's it's not true. That we were there together. That it was mutual. That," I gulped. "That I love him."
The old man slid out from his perch behind the counter. I was so focused on his face that I didn't feel his hand until he slid it into mine. "You're his girl," he nodded.
It wasn't a question but I answered anyway. "I'm his girl."
"Listen up!" he shouted. Case and Crash stepped into the store. I heard heavy footfalls, and then the battered forms of MacDougal and Doctor D. appeared.
"You're all here?" I marveled.
"Been on lockdown." Case mumbled. "Since the fight."
"Since J. disappeared." Mac grumbled, and everyone turned in surprise to hear his voice.
"Five minutes," Teach announced. "Get your
gear and be ready."
"Where're we ridin'?" Case asked.
Teach turned to me. "Emmy'll lead the way."
Chapter 35
J.
It smelled the same.
Six years ago he had spent the night in a cell much like this one. The cinderblock walls, the metal toilet, the uncomfortable bench that was meant to be a bed, it was all the same. Only this time he was alone in the cell. There was no one in the cell with him, no Randall, his supposed best friend, motor mouthing his apologies next to him. That night he had wanted to be alone. This night he had gotten his wish.
J. clenched and relaxed his fists, watching the wrinkles on his knuckles open and closed. Anger shrouded him like a cloud, random and displaced. The faces of those who wronged him flicked through his head like a movie projector.
Randall, his sister, his mother, the racist Storm Rider, and over all of them he saw the smug smile of Robert Whitestone III. He ached to sink his fists them into that blandly triumphant face. Robert had Emmy again, had held her back as she was forced to watch the cops knock J. to the ground and put him back in handcuffs. He had looked out over the top of Emmy's scared face and made eye contact with J.
And then he had smiled.
J. crunched his knuckles and worked his fists again. Counting backwards from ten wasn't working anymore. There was nothing in his head but blind, putrid rage. He would get out of here and he would murder Robert Whitestone.
A cop walked by, keys jangly at his pockets. J. swallowed back some of the choking rage and called out haltingly, "How long are you going to hold me?"
The cop looked at him contemptuously. "We can hold you for twenty-four hours. Best get comfortable."
Twenty-four hours. He leaned back and knocked his head against the cinder block wall. It had been the boredom that nearly got him in prison. The quiet ticking away of the minutes of his life as he stared at the wall with nothing to do but regret. Twenty-four hours and he could go free, he reminded himself. Because this time he hadn't fucking done anything wrong.