My mom looks up to Brendan for final approval, but her eyes seem to be trying to convince him to say yes. I want him to look at me instead of her. To somehow telepathically read into my suppressed dread.
“I do have school early tomorrow…” I remind them gently, fully prepared for Emmett’s responsive twist into my back. But Brendan seems to read it as some kind of reverse psychology, much to my disappointment.
“Well then…don’t be out too late,” he says finally, sparking an erupting of nervous sighs from the guys around me. “You haven’t gotten out much with friends since you got here, Ophelia. You’ve been working too hard. It’ll be good for you to have some fun.
Ha, I think. Fun. Somehow, I don’t expect much fun to come out of this. At least not for me.
“Great, thanks so much,” Emmett says sweetly. His façade of innocence and niceness making me sick. “We’ll bring her home as soon as the movie is over.”
I eye my mom desperately as they turn and push me toward the door, but she must be mistaking my fear for nerves or something else. Some other kind of normal teenage girl behavior. She responds with a wink and a wave before the two turn back for the kitchen.
They laugh victoriously as they shove me out to the car. We’re all dead silent as we drive with me sandwiched in the backseat between Trey and Vincent. I catch Emmett glancing back at me every few seconds through the rearview, and I can’t help but laugh about his blatant lie to Brendan about not being the one to drive tonight.
I hold my breath in anticipation of whatever happens next. Did this have something to do with what Liam seemed to be hinting at? Whatever it was he looked so sorry for? What my dad was worried I needed help with? But that can’t be. The Hendersons and the Elites are working against each other now.
But to my amazement, they take me to the movie theater. I still expect it to be a front, even as they approach the counter and buy us tickets.
We file into the theater and find seats. I follow along like a lost puppy, completely at their mercy. I know it’s no use to try and get away. This whole town is full of their puppets, and no one would help me when they inevitably caught up to me.
Trey and Vincent even bought popcorn. They try to sit on either side of me the way we were arranged in the car, but Emmett snaps at them, demanding them to move aside so he can sit next to me.
“Move over, idiots,” he hisses, pushing them out of the way and sitting down next to me. I search his face for some kind of emotion, but he’s blank and avoiding eye contact.
The whole thing is chillingly normal. Just a group of teens going to the movies. I want to rest in that, but my nerves won’t settle enough to let me. I know something is coming.
Vincent sits on the outside with Trey next to me. Once the movie starts, I can feel his gaze burning into me.
I almost laugh when I realize we’re watching some old slasher horror flick. Of course that’s the kind of thing they’d bring me to see. Forcing me to sit here and watch them get off on half naked girls running away terrified in the night, screaming in terror before they inevitably get slashed to bits.
I side-eye Trey as I realize he’s still watching me instead of the movie. I try not to make eye contact, but his sneering lips are practically drooling as he grins at me.
“What?” I snap in a whisper, wishing he’d move the fuck over. But his arm inches further across the arm rest, taking up even more of my space.
He says nothing, and Emmett is distracted, looking straight ahead at the screen. A few seconds later, his arms inches even closer. His hand touches my knee and swiftly moves upward.
“Get off of me!” I hiss, trying to push his hand away.
“Come on,” he whines. “I’m bored. Let me touch you. I’m tired of watching Emmett have all the fun.”
His hand persists, trying to catch a handful of my breasts. I kick him away, the shuffle prompting a series of shushes from the back of the theater.
This catches Emmett’s attention as he snaps to, looking over just in time to catch Trey’s hand recoiling from my chest. Suddenly Emmett’s hand darts out across me, catching Trey’s hand in a tight grip. I can see their skin turning white and red from the force of his grasp.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Emmett growls, his neck bulging with wide eyes as he stares Trey down.
Thinking back on one of my first encounters with them, and how Emmett seemed to even encourage other guys having their way with me…whatever it took to humiliate me, I am surprised at his sudden protectiveness.
Trey finally fights his hand free, glaring at Emmett with wrinkled brows as he rubs to self-s
oothe the bright red skin of his wrist. “Jeez, man,” he yelps. “Chill out.”
Emmett’s eyes barely cross mine as he turns back to the big screen. I try to ignore how much it turns me on to feel protected by him in some way. Even if he’s also my attacker at times, it’s almost sweet in a sick and twisted way that he wants to be the only one bringing me harm.
Jesus Christ, Ophelia. He has really fucked you up in the head.
Even still, I can’t help but glance up at him every so often, wishing this could be like a normal date with a guy I’m attracted to. That all the bad history between us and crazy events at play could just suspend in time temporarily. He could brush my hand over a shared bucket of popcorn. I could jump and scream when the killer in the movie pops out, sending his arms around me in protection with a comforting laugh. Maybe we’d even hold hands and kiss.
But that’s not for Emmett and I. Or at least not for him. He’s too fucked up, as Malcolm would say. And I’m just the idiot girl caught up in it all. Not knowing what’s good for me enough to be able to stop these feelings.