Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (9 page)

“His family means everything to him. I can completely understand why he wants you all protected.”

“Me too,” I said earnestly.

“What happened to the guys who took her?” he asked curiously.

“They are all in prison,” I said righteously.

“Well that’s good,” he said definitively.

“I hope for a long time,” I added, stabbing my steak with my fork.

“Emerson?” he said, almost whispering.

“Yes?” I said, looking up.

“You are my one true love,” he professed, and I felt my heart explode as the words came out of his mouth.

“I know that you are mine,” I replied, grasping his hand.

It was a magical night. I had shared something very personal with Cross that I had never shared with anyone else. I trusted him completely. We had both told each other that we loved one another, and Cross was the first and last person I would ever say it to. He was the love of my life, and I had never been happier.

In the weeks that followed, I continued training hard, and Cross was very supportive of my training. He had stopped fighting completely, and I was
relieved. I had started having a lot of anxiety about him fighting, and he didn’t want me worrying about him.

Cross had gone to meet with the coach from Notre Dame, and he loved the school. He had signed his scholarship offer letter, and he was thrilled. He had not told his mother because he didn’t think she would be supportive. He would wait to tell her later. I had a very hard time understanding that, but I tried to be supportive, and I kept my thoughts to myself about her. Cross hadn’t heard from her in weeks, and he feared she had returned to her old life. He was at a point in his life where he didn’t feel like he could keep rescuing her. I was proud of him for realizing that.

We had a huge Thanksgiving dinner, just as we always did. My mom and I had so much fun decorating. We decided to do the dining room table in a harvest theme. We had mini pumpkins with raffia ribbon and nametags at each seat. I was in charge of the centerpiece, and I used orange and pink roses in four large, round vases that sat in the center of the table. In between were small pumpkins, squash, and baby corns. I had harvest wire ribbon running in between and around the centerpieces. We had tall, green pillar candles, and the plates were mismatched in yellow and green. It was adorable. My mom and I made Finn help us go get six large barrels of hay, and we placed them all around the front yard. We had scarecrows and colorful potted mums scattered on top. It looked like a real harvest celebration.

We had spent five days before Thanksgiving preparing pies and prepping for our dinner. It was my favorite time of year, and I loved cooking with my mom. It had become a tradition for the two of us to bake and decorate for days, and I looked forward to it all year.

Cross and his grandparents joined us for dinner this year, and his grandmother loved the decorations. At first his grandparents seemed uncomfortable, but the more that time they spent with my family, the more comfortable they became. Cross had shared with me that they originally fought the idea of coming to our home for Thanksgiving, because they didn’t feel that they would fit in. So, I think everyone in my family made a conscience effort to help them to feel welcome. We sat around talking, and by the end of the evening it felt like we were one big family.

Cross and I were falling deeper and deeper in love with each day that passed. We spent as much time together as we could, given our school schedules, and he was running with me more since football had ended. He couldn’t wait to see me race, and I was excited to have him there cheering for me. I would be racing
soon for some indoor track meets, and he was coming to my first race the following week.

I was looking forward to Christmas because it was right around the corner. Cross had asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and what I most wanted was for him to share his home with me. I wanted him to trust me enough to open up his life a little more to me. He had agreed, and I would be going over to have dinner with his grandparents that night. I was looking forward to it.

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c h a p t e r    s e v e n

Cross wouldn’t let me drive to his house. He insisted on driving over on his bike and taking me in my car to his home. He said it wasn’t safe for me to drive alone there. He was protective by nature, but it was familiar to me because it reminded me of my father. When he came to pick me up, he went on and on about my outfit. It made me laugh because I was in jeans and a sweater with a cute scarf and some boots. This was just how Cross was; he always made me feel beautiful. My mom had made a cake for me to take to Bob and Mary, and she was happy that Cross was sharing his home with me. She knew it meant a lot to me. My dad seemed happy that Cross would be driving me there because his main concern was always safety.

When we arrived at his apartment, he was so nervous it made me feel bad that I had coerced him into bringing me.

“Please trust me when I say that it doesn’t matter where you live. I love you. I love you so much. I just want you to share your life with me,” I said, squeezing his hand after he put the car in park.

“I trust you. And I’m only bringing you because I love you. I just don’t like bringing you here. It’s so different from homes you are used to being in,” he said anxiously.

“I don’t care if you live in a box. None of that matters to me,” I said, I was saddened because it seemed to matter so much to him.

He came around and opened my door. When we walked in to the apartment building, it was definitely what I had expected. It was cold and musty in the hallways, and it was not clean. But I knew this was difficult for him, so I did not let it faze me. He opened the door to his apartment, and I could smell the most delicious aroma immediately. Mary was making something that smelled incredible. She had the table set and a beautiful arrangement of flowers on the table. They had made an effort for me, and it meant a lot.

I gave her the cake, and I hugged his grandparents tightly and thanked them for having me. Cross was quiet and uncomfortable, which made me heartsick that this was so difficult for him. I immediately felt a warmth about the apartment, and I loved it. It felt like home. It was Cross’s home, and I felt comfortable right away. Mary had it fixed up so cute. She had sewed darling curtains for all the windows, and I told her how much I liked them. Cross started to relax.

“Well, take her on the tour,” Bob said, laughing, and they all three started to laugh because the tour would be short.

Cross grabbed my hand. He showed me the living room, which was also his bedroom. I felt a lump in my throat because he had to sleep on a pullout couch and didn’t have a room of his own. But then I realized how lucky he was to have a home where there was a lot of love. His grandparents adored him.

“Finn would kill to get to sleep on the couch!” I joked, clutching his hand, and he turned and smiled. It was small, but it was homey and filled with love.

He stopped in the hallway, pressed me against the wall, and kissed me passionately. I was panting from the kiss, and then I suddenly remembered where I was and pulled away. He started to laugh as I fixed my hair and calmed my breathing.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear, and I felt my heart start to race again.

“I love you more,” I whispered back.

He pulled my chair out at the table for me to sit, and he leaned down to my ear and whispered, “Not possible,” giving me goose bumps.

The dinner was lovely. Mary had prepared a delicious roast. We laughed and talked, and they told me so many stories about Cross as a little boy. They told me why they named him Cross and how they truly believed that he was a gift from God. I felt my eyes well up as they spoke about the day they brought him home. His mother had relapsed just two days after he was born, and she had called them to pick him up. They said he was just in a diaper when they
arrived at a crack house to take him home. Cross squirmed in his seat while they told me the story, and I squeezed his hand as I listened. I needed him to share this with me, because nothing he could ever tell me could make me stop loving him. I loved him more for what he had overcome. He didn’t drink because he didn’t want to go down the same path that his mother did. He was surrounded by drugs in his neighborhood, and he had nothing to do with drugs or alcohol. He was the strongest person I had ever met. I loved him more and more each day, and I was so happy he had finally opened his home to me.

As he drove me home, he was very quiet. I turned to him as he drove and said, “I love your home, Cross,” I said sincerely.

“I love you,” he replied quietly.

“Thank you for letting me visit. That is the best Christmas gift you could have given me,” I said, and I truly meant it.

“Do you really think that is your gift?” he said, laughing.

“It is all that I wanted,” I said, and he looked at me and smiled.

“Are you nervous for your race Saturday?” he asked.

“No. I’m excited to get the season going. I love indoor track because it’s different. It’s smaller, and it’s pretty fun. I just want to drop my time this season. My goal is to break four minutes forty seconds this year, but it will be bittersweet if I do it,” I said, deep in thought.

“Why is it bittersweet?” he asked softly.

“Well, my mom holds the indoor mile record in the state of Indiana at four minutes forty-one seconds. She’s had it for over twenty years, and if I hit the time I want to hit, I will break her record,” I explained, looking at him.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. She’d probably be thrilled if you broke it,” he said enthusiastically.

“She would. She loves it when I beat her times. My mom is my biggest fan. But I love seeing her name up there,” I said sincerely.

“Well, you do share the same last name now. I’m sure she loves seeing Hollingsworth on the records too,” he said sweetly.

“We’ll see what happens. This is my last time running indoor track in high school, so I guess it’s now or never,” I said, laughing.

The rest of the week went by quickly. Between school, running, and spending time with Cross, I usually collapsed in my bed at night exhausted. Saturday morning when I woke up, I felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I loved track season and was excited to compete. I got dressed and ready for my race.
I always wore my hair in a long ponytail with a ribbon. When I was finished, I came out and had breakfast with my parents.

“You ready to break four forty today, sweetie?” my dad asked.

“I hope so. I wish Mom and I could both hold a record together, though,” I said, still feeling weird about that.

“Emerson, Mom doesn’t care about that stuff. She did when she was your age, but now watching you excel means so much more to her. Plus, she doesn’t mind seeing Hollingsworth up on the board!” he said, laughing.

“Thanks, Dad. I will do my best. If it’s meant to be, I will break it. If not, I will try to do it during the outdoor season,” I said confidently.

“This is the first time Cross has ever seen you race, isn’t it?” he inquired.

“Yes, he’s meeting us there,” I said happily.

“Well, he’s in for a show. He’s never seen Emerson Hollingsworth in race mode,” he said, laughing.

My dad loved to watch me race. I left it all out on the track. I pushed myself as hard as I could, and he was always proud. Indy was home for the weekend, so he would be coming too. Indy always supported my running, and I was happy to have him there. Cross was looking forward to hanging out with Indy this weekend as well, so it was great timing that he had come home. We all loaded up in the car and headed to the stadium. My grandparents always came to my races as well. Grandpa Jack would pace the entire time. I guess that was what he used to do when my mom raced too. I was warming up and gave him a quick wave, but I needed to focus on my race.

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I was so happy to be home for the weekend. I needed a weekend away from college. I loved watching my sister race, so it was a perfect time to come home. As she headed to the line, Cross seemed very nervous. Finn was teasing him about being a nervous schoolgirl. They had obviously grown pretty close.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s got this covered. She’s pretty intense, though. Is this the first time you’ve seen her race?” I inquired.

“Yes. What do you mean she’s intense? Is that good?” Cross asked apprehensively.

I just started to laugh. “Emerson gets her game face on, and she always goes out there and kicks ass. She’s a competitor, and whether she has someone to race or not, she leaves it out there,” I said proudly.

The gun sounded, and the runners were off to a fast start. Emerson always ran her own race. She usually set the pace and then left everyone in the dust. She let the younger runners get their jitters out by allowing them to take the lead quickly, but four hundred meters into the race, she had taken the lead. My dad and mom were watching their watches, knowing that Emerson was trying to race the clock. She was very hard on herself when she didn’t run the time she set out to. She was right on pace, and she had a huge lead over second place. I looked over at Cross, and he looked so nervous and anxious for her. With four hundred meters to go, she was looking great. She looked down at her wrist to check her time. Emerson was always in control; it was just who she was. She was very much like my father. She knew what she needed to do, and she always did it.

“She’s one second off,” my mom said restlessly from behind me.

When I looked back at my dad, he smiled and winked at me, as if he knew what she was doing.

The crowd was going nuts, and they were cheering her in. Cross was screaming, Finn was screaming, and my grandparents were on their feet. She looked a little wobbly on the last straightaway, but that was normal for Emerson. She ran until she collapsed or else she didn’t consider it a good race. Most people probably would not notice her swaying a little, but I had watched her race long enough that I knew when she was going down. When she crossed the finish line with a time of four minutes and forty-one seconds, she dropped to the ground. Before I could react, Cross was sprinting down the bleachers. Obviously, no one had bothered to tell him that this was what she did. Finn and I chased after him to try to stop him from running out on the track. Cross was so fast, I couldn’t catch him. I saw him grab the fence and thrust his legs right over it and onto the track. Emerson was down on her knees gasping.