I’m certain Malcolm was right. There had to be something more to Emmett once. Something kind. But maybe as the years of his life went on in this fucked up house, in the world of the Elites, he was broken. My blood chills at the thought that he may never be restored. No matter what happens. Maybe he is fucked up beyond repair. And my biggest fear is that once he’s through with me, I will be too.
20
Chapter Twenty
“I have to cuff you up again,” Emmett says finally, brushing a finger across his upper lip before reluctantly turning back to me from the window.
“Emmett, my arms are killing me from being cuffed up all night,” I lament in exhaustion. “Can we just skip that part this time?”
“You saw him in there,” he offers up dryly. “You know I have to do this.”
I’m too tired to argue. I take my seat on the bed and offer my hands over freely. My mind racing as he secures the handcuffs once again.
I’m getting desperate for some way out of this. I know time is running out. If my dad doesn’t give these people what they want, they’re going to kill me. Or worse. Sell me off into some sex trafficking ring. And since I have never been able to count on him for anything, I’m not going to hang all of my hopes on him.
I study Emmett as he sits in the corner, listlessly tossing a ball up to the ceiling and catching it again. Out of everyone I’ve seen in this mansion, Emmett is my best shot at manipulating my way to freedom long enough to hunt down some shred of evidence.
I know there has to be something somewhere in this place. Something that my dad and the Hendersons can use in their case. It can’t be spotless. Then maybe I would have something more than these ransom videos to count on.
“I gotta say…out of all the times I imagined being locked alone with you in your room…this is not
exactly what I had pictured,” I attempt to joke with him with a half-smile.
His eyes spark with interest. “So, you have fantasized about me?” he asks with a suggestive note to his voice.
“Don’t be stupid, Emmett. You know I have. And you’ve fantasized about me too,” I state plainly.
He catches the ball a final time and sits up to look at me. His eyes trail over my body longingly and then settle on the cuffs around my wrist with a tinge of pity. Blood is still dripping down my arm from where it banged against the bathroom counter this morning.
He raises to his feet at the sight of the blood and steps toward me. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s alright I guess,” I sniffle. “After everything with Thomas…I guess I forgot about it.”
Both of our eyes turn dark with the memory of Emmett being forced to stand there and hold me down while Thomas felt me up. I watch the memories roll around in his mind, sending him into a sudden manic pace across the room.
“It can’t be easy to have a dad like that,” I offer softly.
He turns but doesn’t answer me. His face twists slightly with a flood of suppressed emotions.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles half-heartedly. “You don’t know anything about us.”
I kick myself for having crossed a line, closing him off. But his voice is blank. He’s lying to protect himself, and he’s not even that adamant about it. I can tell he’s tired and worn down from everything. Maybe just as much as I am.
Without another word, he leaves the room. His feet march toward the bathroom down the hall before returning a few minutes later with first aid supplies in hand. Taking a seat near me on the edge of the bed, he leans forward to clean my wound.
“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he says softly, gently blotting a cold, damp cotton ball to the cut.
“I know you didn’t,” I lie, looking deep into his eyes.
His head raises with my words before he kneels back down to put a band-aid over the cut. “What’s got you playing nice all of a sudden?”
“I’m just done playing games,” I explain. “I’m tired and scared. And you’re the only person I care about in any of this.”
He laughs mockingly. “Care about?”
“You know I care for you, Emmett,” I soften my voice. “And you care for me too.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” he scoffs through a thin veil. I can see everything stirring up inside of him.