Phantom Scars (10 page)

Chapter 20 – Going Nuts

After that morning debacle, Emma began staying in her own sleeping bag. She kept an unspoken distance between us, and I felt ashamed of myself. I was also pissed at Dr. Greyson, because this was all his fault! Him and his “go ahead and sleep with her, it'll be good for her” advice. Yeah, right. I was sure I had set her back months in therapy in one morning.

She hadn't offered me her notebook again since then, either. I felt like I'd lost her, and I didn't know what to do about it. I didn't know how to fix it. I had told her I was sorry, but how could I take that back? The distance didn't seem to bother her like it did me.

I noticed this morning that her notebook was now a different color. "The notebook you had before was red, what happened to it? This one is blue."

"I filled it. This is my new one," she said not looking up from it.

"So what happened to the other one?" I asked, worried that she'd burned it, and I would never get a peek into her head again.

She reached back and pulled it out from behind her. I looked at her confused, as she slipped it under the new notebook she had been writing in. It just emphasized how much more I was missing and didn't know. It was all sitting in front of me, but I couldn't read it, and it was starting to drive me nuts. It wasn't mine to take, and she wasn't offering it to me anymore.

I rubbed my face, frustrated at her silence. I was slowly losing my mind over the whole mess. I plopped down into the kitchen chair across the room. I wanted her to open up to me. I wanted her to tell me I hadn't damaged her and that she still felt safe with me. I let out a defeated sigh.

She looked up at my sad face and grimaced. "It's nothing you'd want to read, Devin."

"How do you know that? If it's about you, I want to read it," I complained.

She shook her head at me. "I don't want to cause any more…problems…for you," she glared at my pants and got up and walked out of the room.

I felt like a perverted jerk. I heard the springs of the bed squeak and decided to get this over with. "You knew it’d happen. I warned you. I didn't want this," I complained, as I stormed into the bedroom, where I saw she had tears in her eyes.

"Don't you think I know that? I know you don't want me, Devin, okay? You've made that quite clear, so please just drop it. Don't rub it in," she muttered, getting up and moving to the bathroom and locked the door.

I stared dumbfounded at it, not sure what had just happened. I started to think I was missing something.

There was a knock at the front door, and it was my momma, asking for us to help in the kitchen. I told her we would be down in a few moments and tried to think of a way to get Emma out of the bathroom. I decided just telling her the truth would work best. I knocked lightly on the door, and before she could speak to acknowledge me, I called out to her, "My momma just stopped by to ask if we could help her in the kitchen."

The door opened, and she pushed past me. Her face was down, and I was dying to see her eyes, just so I could get an idea of what the heck was going on.

She wiped her nose, and I knew she had been crying, I just wasn’t sure why.

"Emma, please," I pleaded, but I was not sure for what. I guess just answers. I hated seeing her upset.

Her sad eyes looked up at me. "How long are we going to stay married, Devin?" she asked, and I stood there shocked for a moment. My brain didn't quite comprehend her words.

"I, I, um…"

"How long are you going to do this?" she motioned to the apartment. "You obviously don't want me, so when will you get on with your real life and stop pretending with me? How much time do I have left?"

My face scrunched in confusion, trying to understand what she was saying, but my heart didn't want to hear it. I didn't want her to leave me. I didn't know when or how, but she had become the most important thing in my life, and I didn't think I could handle her leaving me. This realization was shocking, and I stood there mute, trying to make sense of everything in my head.

She closed her eyes and shook her head at me, before she headed out the door, annoyed with me again. I didn't know how to fix this. I didn't want her to leave, but at the same time, she was just a kid, at the beginning of her life. It was selfish of me to hold her back. If she wanted to leave, I should let her go. I had told my momma I would. I guess I just didn't realize at the time that it would hurt so much.

When I made it into the restaurant kitchen, Emma was already elbow deep into the dishes, and my momma was glancing at her, looking concerned. When her worried eyes found my stressed face, she frowned. She walked over, hugged me and said, "Whatever it is, sugar, you two need to talk it out."

I nodded, but I still needed my space. Last thing I needed was two women henpecking me. I grabbed an apron and decided to take the floor. I was bussing tables, when I noticed a pair of large men walk in. I wouldn't have thought twice about them, but I almost mistook one of them for Clayton, until he turned around. The other man with him was well dressed, and when Jennifer seated them, he spoke with a thick foreign accent.

I went back into the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do. If these guys were after Emma, I needed to get her out of here, but I didn't want to freak her out for nothing. I might just be paranoid after everything that had already happened. My momma noticed my worried look, and I nodded for Clayton to go out and check on Jen. If they were after Emma, we didn't want them picking up a spare.

"What's going on, sugar?" my momma finally asked.

I pulled her aside and looked to make sure Emma was occupied. "There are some strangers here. I think they're here for Emma."

"What makes you think that?" she asked.

"I just do, okay?" I growled.

She frowned. "Why don't I call Warren?"

"Fine, you call him, and tell him to call his FBI buddy, too," I said sharply, still trying to keep it down.

Emma heard anyway and looked up at me worried. She walked over, drying her hands, and stood there silently, waiting for an explanation. She didn't have to say a word; her eyes broke me down. "I think you should go home or something, Little One. There are strangers here I don't trust."

Her eyes narrowed, and I let out a sigh. I was actually grateful when Jen came in and complained that they were creepy. She put in their order, and Emma walked over to the fryer. I was worried she would burn herself on the oil, but she just dipped the ladle and dripped a little bit over both plates once they were prepared. She nodded as she handed them to Jennifer and went into the pantry to hide. I found her popping one of Dr. Greyson's anxiety pills, and then she closed her eyes, as if she was waiting for something. She was just sitting on a flour sack, staring at the container of peanut oil we used in the fryer.

Suddenly, there were screams and yelling to call 9-1-1 from the dining hall. She closed her eyes and started sobbing. "You did that, didn't you?" I said.

She nodded her head yes. "Peanuts, he's allergic to peanuts," she said, and I quickly pulled her up into my arms and got out of there with my girl. We hurried to our place upstairs, and I locked the door. We listened as the ambulance came for the man. I wanted to know who he was. I needed to know. I wanted to kill him.

I put a call in to Dr. Greyson and told him what was up. He said he would try and get his contact to run the fingerprints off of their dinnerware. Hopefully, they would get a hit and would be able to get rid of them before they would have a chance to return.

I didn't know who they were, but I was ready for them to be gone.

Chapter 21 – Keep You

Momma let me know she was going to the hospital where the men had been taken. Only one had had a strong reaction to the peanut oil, and because we had signs up in the restaurant warning customers against peanut allergies, he should not be able to sue us. Thank heavens for that. I still didn't like my momma being near those men, though.

Dr. Greyson said they were running the prints and went to join my momma at the hospital to keep an eye on the men. I felt a little better knowing she wasn't alone with them.

Emma went into our room and snuggled down in her sleeping bag, completely disappearing into the bottom of it. I just lay on top of mine, worried about her. I reached down and rubbed the hump of the sleeping bag that looked like her back. It took a while, but she eventually crawled out and snuggled into my arms.

"They're going to take care of it, Emma. Dr. Greyson is already talking to the FBI to get rid of them."

"I thought they were all dead. I hoped they were," she whimpered.

I wondered what she was talking about.

"They were all there, I hoped the blast..." she sniffled and then hid her face, "I’d hoped it’d killed them," she said muffled into my side.

"What blast?"

"The one that released me, the one that let me get out. There was a bomb, it shook the whole building and blew the hinges off my door. I thought someone would come, but after a few minutes, it was all silent, and I looked out and saw it looked deserted. I made my way down the hall. I didn't know the way out. I ended up in an office. The files were all knocked over. I saw my name on one. That's how I got my license back. It was also how I found out it was Wayne who’d sold me for seventy-five thousand dollars."

She pushed her face further into my side, and she gasped a few times, as she tried to stop her sobs, but I just kissed her head, letting her know it was okay to cry.

"Once I got my file, I started out the window, but another blast shook the place, taking it the rest of the way down and starting a huge fire. The blast knocked me out the window, and the glass cut up my back," she said sadly. "I don't think they’d consider me prime merchandise anymore."

"What?" I looked at her shocked. "You're not merchandise!" I lifted her face and made her look me in the eyes. "You’re not for sale, Emma! You’re mine, I mean my wife, and no one is taking you," I said and pulled her tightly into my arms, trying to ignore the fight we’d had earlier about her not wanting to be my wife anymore. I would just have to try and convince her to stay. I felt like a selfish jerk, but I just couldn't give her up. She ended up crying herself to sleep, as I lay awake, waiting for an update from my momma. I was hoping to hear the men had been arrested before Emma woke up.

I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep, until I was woken by Emma crying out, "No, please, please, I'm sorry, please!" she begged.

I woke her by shaking her gently. When she looked at me, she gripped me tightly. "Please don't send me away, Devin. Don't make me leave. I promise I'll be a good wife. I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't make me go back," she sobbed.

I squeezed her tighter. "Hey, hey, now, I’d never send you away. I don't want you to leave. You're an excellent wife already, sweetheart," I said and kissed her head. "I don't want you to leave me, either. I promise never to send you away."

She sobbed hard into my shoulder, and I squeezed her tighter, hating that she had thought I would ever want to send her away.

Clayton called and let me know the FBI had arrested Oscar Fortaccelli for several drug trafficking violations. The other man was not in the records. He was also the one who’d had the allergic reaction to the peanut oil. I had a feeling he was the one we really wanted to get rid of. Emma had said Oscar was a guard, so he would’ve just been the other man's goon.

I gave Emma another sedative. Dr. Greyson called and asked how she was doing, and I told him about her taking the pills. Then he asked if she could talk to a FBI agent. I didn't like the idea and asked if he could just talk to the agent himself.

Emma spoke with him quietly for a moment on the phone. From what I could make out, she was giving him permission to speak with the agent about what had been said in their sessions. Call me selfish, but I was actually feeling jealous again that yet another person would know Emma's history, and I would not.

She hung up the phone and looked at me nervously. I wanted her to know I would do anything to keep her safe, and I
did
want her to be my wife. "Emma," I spoke her name softly, wiping away her tears, "Can I keep you as my wife?" I asked feeling unsure of myself.

She looked at me confused, and I started retreating, feeling insecure and stupid for asking. I should have just said I was keeping her as my wife or demanded that she not leave me. I felt her hand on my face, her brow furrowed. "What?" she asked softly.

"C-can, can I keep you?" I asked like a stupid little baby begging his momma for a pet.

"You want to keep me?" she asked, her voice squeaking.

I looked up at her, begging her with my eyes. "Please?"

"As your wife?" she asked, as if she was confused.

I nodded yes bashfully, not sure if I could handle her telling me she didn't want to be married to me. I shouldn't have asked her. I wasn't ready for her rejection.

I felt her hands on my cheeks, and she tipped my face up to hers. Her clear blue eyes looked deep into mine, searching for something. "Do you really want to be stuck with me?" she asked.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me. "Not stuck, happily attached."

I felt her arms wrap tightly around me, and she started to sob. I wasn't sure why she was crying, but she didn't loosen her grip on me. I felt her lips on my neck, kissing it softly. "I’d like to keep you, too," she whispered in my ear.

I squeezed her tighter than I should have and kissed her head. "Thank you," I said with such relief. I didn't know why she would want me, but I was over the moon that she’d said I could keep her.

It didn't escape my notice once we were settled down that we were both eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I didn't say anything, just made her an apple rose for a side dish. She smiled when she saw it and thanked me. Once we were done eating, she took my hand and led me to the couch with her. She pulled out her notebook, curled into my side and began to write.

I could see everything she was writing clearly and didn't know if I was intruding, so I thought I should ask. "Can I read it as you write it?"

She smiled up at me and snuggled back into me, continuing to write where I could see.

Knowing Dante is here in town has made me wonder about Tatiana. She was so good to me and kept me safe. My stay with them could have been so much worse. She was so kind, slipping me peanut butter sandwiches and telling me to leave some where it could be seen on my cheek. It was this reason alone that Dante kept his body completely to himself. I knew he had attacked the woman in the cell next to me after she'd had peanut butter, and she was killed. He accused her of trying to assassinate him. I don't think she denied it. I think she was happy to die. I always made it clear that I had eaten peanut butter, leaving it smeared on my cheeks and hands.

He accused Tatiana of trying to keep the girls from him. I know she paid that night for us all, but she never stopped giving me the peanut butter, and for that I am grateful. I wonder if she escaped the same time I did. I wonder if the other girls had gotten out. It was so quiet, but I suspect it was quiet because the blast had left me deaf. I couldn't even hear Gustav calling to me, trying to wake me. It was his touch on my painful back that caused me to wake and look at him. I could see his mouth moving, as he lifted my naked form from the ground. I was too tired and sore to fight him. I only was awake long enough to ask him to get my file.

I woke the next day to my back covered in bandages in a warm bed. I almost thought I was safe, but what Gustav didn't know was that I had regained my hearing, and I could hear the things he was mumbling when his back was turned. I continued to play deaf until my body was healed enough, and I was able to escape with my file and some of his clothes. He had no intention of ever giving me any. He had figured out what that place was and had planned on keeping me for himself. He was preparing the basement for me, where he planned on locking me up, but I was able to gain enough strength to escape. I made it to the port to find a ship to take me back to the states. That was where I found Devin's ship and my true salvation. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had him to help me these past few months. For him, I am truly grateful.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm grateful for you, too," I whispered, and I truly was.