Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (19 page)

I loved my new teammates, and running was actually the best escape for me. I didn’t think about how sad I was when I ran, so I looked forward to practice every day. It seemed to be the only time that I didn’t feel myself getting lost in the darkness. I had already made a lot of friends on the team, but I was definitely not as social as I used to be. I was a little more standoffish, and I logically assumed it was because I didn’t want to get close to people after all that had happened. I didn’t feel safe when it came to trusting people, and I didn’t want to let my guard down. While I had made a few friends, I was cautious about how attached I allowed myself to get.

Hannah knew everything about Cross, and she was the one person I felt comfortable talking to about everything. My mom and dad called me every day, but I usually kept our conversations brief and close to the surface, which I could tell hurt them, but it was the best that I could do. Sometimes I would let it go to voicemail and wouldn’t take their calls for days. I felt terrible because I knew my mom was hurting, but I didn’t want to talk about things, and she was pressing me to open up about my feelings. My dad had hired a security guard named Alan to follow me everywhere I went. I figured Alan was giving my father constant updates on my whereabouts. The only person who knew about him
was Hannah. I wondered if my teammates had noticed, but I never brought it up to them, and so I hoped not.

I was excited to run cross-country for the first time, because I was enjoying the longer mileage. We ran twice a day, and once school started we would continue having short runs before classes started. My coach was awesome, and he pushed me hard. I liked being pushed. I liked how I felt when I was pushed to the brink. Somehow, it seemed to help with my heartache. I guess it was because it made me feel
something
. Regardless of how bad it felt, I was feeling when I was running, and it had nothing to do with my broken heart.

Once school started, I threw myself into my studies and practice. I had no time to think about everything that I had recently lost, and I was glad. My parents were coming up to school over the weekend for my first race. I hadn’t seen them since I had left home, which was by far the longest I had ever gone without seeing my parents. I wondered how it would be. Unfortunately, they were a reminder of what had happened, but I would need to get over that at some point. I was excited for Finn to come as well. I really, really missed my brothers. We talked every day. Indy would come to my race three weeks later, and I couldn’t wait to see him.

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c h a p t e r    s i x t e e n

A lot had changed in our home since the release of Blane DiAmico. For starters, my daughter had pulled away from her mother and me in a painful way. But I couldn’t blame her; she had been through a traumatic experience. Cross had been her first real, serious boyfriend, and I didn’t doubt for a minute that she had been in love with him. Hell, even I loved the kid. We were all pretty shocked and devastated to find out that he was Blane’s son. I still didn’t know for sure if Cross had known or if he had been involved with Blane while he was in prison. I was pretty certain that he had. I mean, how coincidental was it that my daughter’s boyfriend happened to be Blane DiAmico’s son?

I had been having Carlos follow Blane twenty-four hours a day since his release. Cross had gone to see him once, and according to Carlos’s source, it certainly didn’t seem as if they had ever met or spoken before that day. Someone was placed near them in the diner, and the conversation certainly didn’t sound as if they were in any sort of set-up together. I would feel bad if Cross was just a victim in this whole thing as well, but it was a risk that I couldn’t take.

Blane DiAmico had threatened everything that I loved, and I couldn’t risk him getting to my family through his son, regardless of how we felt about Cross. Emerson would need to get over it. It was just an impossible situation. I would
have Carlos continue to follow Blane and see if there was any further contact with Cross. So far, Blane had not contacted us, nor had he come anywhere near anyone in my family.

Charlotte was very upset over what had happened. She felt that we had taken something away from our daughter that wasn’t ours to take away. She did not feel that Cross was involved with Blane in any way, shape, or form. She was exasperated with me for getting a restraining order against him, but she didn’t understand the risks that were involved. I would drop the restraining order as soon as I was certain that he wasn’t involved, but I couldn’t react too quickly because there was too much to lose.

Even Finn seemed to be grieving. He was a little quieter, which for Finn was very noticeable. I hoped that this was just part of him being a grumpy teenager, but in my heart I knew that it was sadness that he was feeling. He felt distanced from his sister, and he missed Cross; they had grown very close. Indy was also not coming home as often. Everyone seemed to be upset about the whole situation. I was doing everything in my power to make sure that everyone was safe and get to the bottom of Cross’s involvement as quickly as I could. However, the fact remained that he was Blane DiAmico’s son. It was just a detail at this point whether or not he had known that he was.

Charlotte, Finn, and I were driving to Emerson’s race that weekend. It would be the first time we would see her since she had left for school. Charlotte was dying to go see her, because she had taken the distance hard. Charlotte had spent many mornings crying in bed over Emerson’s departure and the distance that now lived between them. I felt terrible about my part in it. I tried to comfort her and tell her that it would pass and life would get back to normal before she knew it. But a part me wondered if we had lost our little girl forever. Emerson was stubborn. She had her guard up, and I hoped that she wouldn’t be too stubborn to ever let it down.

Football was going great. I was doing pretty well in my classes too. My “operation numb yourself” was also in full effect. I had found a way to sleep without thinking of Emerson, although I noticed that I had to drink more to numb myself than I had when I started it weeks ago. That worried me, but I figured it was part of being a piece of shit, which was exactly what I was.

When I woke up after drinking more than I had ever drunk before, my head was pounding. I may have still been drunk when I woke up. I stared up at the ceiling, wondering how I got to that point. The ceiling was spinning, and it reminded me how out of control my life was. How long could I keep this up? I wondered. Would I ever not feel like an incredible failure?

Just then my phone rang, and it was John. I told him I really needed to see him. I needed to talk to someone I trusted. John was like a brother to me. I could tell him anything. He said he would leave right then and see me in a few hours. I sat in a hot shower for what seemed like an hour, trying to wash away the awful feeling I had inside me.

I went back to sleep until John got there, and then we went out and had a late lunch. He was disappointed that I had started drinking. We had made a pact many years ago that we would take a different path than our parents had.

“Cross, I’ve known you a long time, buddy. You’re my best friend. But you’re messing things up right now. I know you’re hurting, dude. I do. I get that. But you can’t hurt yourself because you lost your girl. Drinking and going through the motions, that’s not you. I know you’re upset about who your dad is, and I get that. But you don’t even know him. That doesn’t change anything about who you are. Nothing’s changed. Don’t you get that?” he said, urging me to think about the situation logically.

“But everything
has
changed. I lost Emerson. Her family has a restraining order against me,” I said angrily, and I could feel my head pound even harder from my severe hangover as I held it between my two hands, trying to stop the pain.

“Cross, look at me. You haven’t changed. All that’s changed is that you have a father whom you don’t even know, and he did something bad to the Hollingsworths. That has nothing to do with you. Have you tried to explain this to Emerson or her family?” he asked, still trying to be logical.

“No! They hate me. Trust me; they wouldn’t want to hear an explanation. They would never believe it. Even I wouldn’t believe it. It is too coincidental. And how could it ever be OK even if they believed I didn’t know before now? I would still be the son of the guy who tried to kill Charlotte and Indy. There is no possible way to make this OK,” I said, running my hands through my hair and massaging my temples in a desperate attempt to quiet the intense drumming.

“So, what does that mean? You don’t think you can convince them about who you are? I know who you are. You know who you are. This guy sitting here, broken and hungover, this is not the guy I’ve known my entire life. Maybe you can’t convince the Hollingsworths, but you can’t lose sight of yourself because of the situation. Come on, Cross. You know who you are. You are better than this. You are not your mother or your father. You are a great guy, and it’s time you realize that,” he said, his eyes full of emotion. John was not a super-emotional guy, and so seeing him this worked up about the situation was pretty eye-opening.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said solemnly, feeling the shame wash over me.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, buddy. You’re just a little lost right now. But listen to me. I have newspaper clippings piling up at home about your football season so far this year. You are going to the University of Notre Dame and playing college football. That’s the Cross I know. You exceed all expectations. And you are too smart to throw it all away by drinking and being stupid,” he said confidently, knowing he was reaching me now.

“I just can’t shake this feeling that I have. And I hate it,” I said quietly.

“What feeling?” he inquired.

“As if I let everyone down. As if I’m a huge disappointment. And I can’t stand feeling that way,” I said honestly.

“Dude, you didn’t fail anyone.” He paused. “You didn’t have anything to do with who your father is, Cross. You are the same guy that you’ve always been. I think the Hollingsworths will figure it out. I really do. They know you. They just didn’t know how to handle the situation. Time will heal all, I promise. But you need to keep yourself on track. You can’t fall apart,” he said adamantly.

“I know the Hollingsworths will never understand. There will always be doubt about me, and that just sucks,” I said, frustrated, and then I blurted, “I really love her.”

“I know you do. But this isn’t the way to deal with it, Cross. Give her time. She knows you. She loves you as much as you love her,” he said confidently. “Anyone who was ever around you two knows that.”

“She will never get past this. I know her. But you’re right. Hurting myself will not change anything. I get it. Thanks for driving up to talk. I needed it,” I said and then took a large drink of water to help flush the alcohol out of my system.

“Dude, I’m here for you whenever you need me. I’m coming to your game Saturday, so you better be over this little phase by then,” he said, laughing.

“I give you my word. No more drinking. No more numbing myself. I need to deal with it all,” I promised, dreading the sadness that would now creep back in.

“Just stay focused on school and football, and time will pass, and things will get easier. Once you start numbing your feelings, you’ll never stop. You and I both have parents who prove that theory, right?” he said, and I recalled all the tough times we had both been through with our families.

“You’re right. This isn’t the right path for me,” I agreed, suddenly realizing the danger I had embraced. I needed to get myself together

“I’m proud of you, Cross. There were times when you and I didn’t know where our families would get their next meal from, and now you’re in college. I’m counting on you to prove to everyone that you can do anything you set your mind to,” he said proudly.

“I won’t let you down,” I said quietly, riddled with guilt for what an idiot I had been the last few weeks.

“I know you won’t,” he said, giving me a look that told me he had complete confidence in me.

John and I hung out for a few more hours before he had to drive back for work. I went back to my room, where I studied for a while and napped. That would be the last time I wasted a day on a hangover.

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c h a p t e r    s e v e n t e e n

School and training were keeping me busy, both mentally and physically. I had yet to ever sleep a night without seeing those blue eyes and hearing his voice. I thought time was supposed to heal, but I could not get him off my mind. I threw myself into school and running. I was having a great season. I loved the longer distances, and I enjoyed the off-road races and different courses each week.

My teammates were great, and we had all become close. They were all excited to meet my parents when they came to the first race, because they all knew about my mom running in the Olympics and setting so many current collegiate records. My father was a celebrity himself in Indiana, and so they all wanted to meet him too. They weren’t expecting the charming Finn to steal the show; they all fell in love with him. I was so happy to see Finn, I couldn’t stop hugging him. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed him. He didn’t even push me away; he kept hugging me and asking if I was OK.

My parents took me out to lunch after my race, but I refused to talk about what had happened with Cross, and I didn’t want to know anything about Blane DiAmico either. I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I told my dad that I would respect his need to have me followed by a security guard twenty-four
hours a day, but I didn’t want to know the details right now. My mom tried to press me, asking if I was all right and if I wanted to talk about Cross. But I didn’t. What was there to say? Cross was the son of their enemy. They would never accept him. I would never, ever find someone whom I loved that way again. It was a no-win situation, so why waste the energy and time on it? Everyone would just feel bad. My mom seemed very concerned about how I was coping. She kept asking if I was going out with friends, if I was meeting new people, etcetera. Did she really think that I would be able to forget about all that had happened and just delve back into life? I tried to act as if everything was fine because the last thing I wanted to do was keep talking about it.