Working Girl (30 page)

“Oh, it’s just me, sir.” I grind my teeth together, hoping to push my anger away.

“Presley’s mother just died recently. She was all she had,” Emerson says curtly.

I can see the sadness on Emerson’s mother’s face. She’s obviously a good woman and I feel bad for her. “And your father?” she asks genuinely.

“I never knew him.”

“What a shame.” Big Earl’s voice cuts through my core. Something about his tone, the sarcasm that I’m sure I hear, makes me want to scream. But I don’t. Instead I focus on my hand in Emerson’s; enjoying the final moments of our being together because looking across the table at Big Earl I can see the anger radiating off him. I’m no longer safe.

My throat aches with the tears threatening to break free but I do my best to swallow them and put on a brave face.

Lunch drags on and my anxiousness increases with each passing second. My knee jumps up and down underneath the table as I’m caught in a weird limbo: torn between making an escape from Big Earl, but also knowing that these are my final moments with Emerson. I want to claw at my face with anger as I listen to the family continue their small talk. It disgusts me that Big Earl has fooled them. He’s spent years ruining my life while putting on a show for his own family. It’s so wrong.

“Well, I guess it’s time for us to be going,” Emerson says as he stands from his chair.

I immediately jump to my feet, my hands clutching his arm as if my life depends on it; which in a way, I guess it does. “Thank you so much for having me,” I manage to say quietly.

Emerson’s mother smiles as she closes the distance between us and envelopes me with her arms. “You are such a sweetheart,” she coos into my ear. “Please come visit us again soon.”

I nod in response because I’m afraid if I try to speak, I might break down.

Big Earl gives Emerson a quick hug, patting him on the back. He says something inaudible to him, and Emerson nods in response before Big Earl directs his attention to me. Sticking his hand out to me, he smiles. “I’ll see you soon, Presley.” His words send chills down my spine as I place my hand in his and we shake.

The happy family chatters excitedly as they walk us out the foyer. I struggle to slip my feet back into my shoes since I’m shaking so badly. With his hand on the small of my back, Emerson guides me out the front door where we say one last final goodbye to his parents. Once the door shuts behind us, I let out a long drawn out breath.

Concern paints Emerson’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” My voice croaks, ratting me out in the process.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Knowing that he’s going to need some sort of explanation as to why I’m a nervous wreck I opt for the simple truth. “I just don’t feel well.”

“Do you want to go chill at the warehouse?” he asks, opening the car door for me.

I shake my head. “I really just want to go home.” I can see the disappointment on his face and my heart breaks a little more. “I’m just going to sleep away the rest of the day.” Spewing my lie, I manage to force a smile. He grins back at me, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“I guess I’ll let you.”

I slide into the passenger seat, allowing Emerson to close the door. With sadness in my heart I watch as he strides in front of the car before hopping in next to me. His dimples flash in my direction and I bite the inside of my cheek, hoping to contain the emotions threatening to break free. Emerson starts the car and I point my gaze out the window and as I watch the world pass me by, I allow the tears to finally fall from my eyes. Sadness consumes me as I mourn the loss of the only part of my life that was making sense because tonight I will have to split myself from him, and it will undoubtedly be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

The drive continues with each of us lost in our own thoughts; the only noise coming from the radio. But even the joyous sounds are unable to reach me as my soul starts to slip away from my body.

The tears have dried up by the time Emerson pulls into the mansion and once the car stills I gather the nerve to look at him. “Thanks for today.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Just another last first you can strike off that monstrous list you have.”

Leaning across the center console I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. I breathe in the scent of him, filing it in my long-term memory so that I can call upon this moment later in my life. This is my silent goodbye. There is no other way for this to play out. Big Earl will win, and I can’t let him. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“Just being with you is payment enough.”

His words cut straight through my chest. My heart falls apart. It breaks into two pieces: one part’s mine, the other is his.

Breaking our embrace, I pull my lips upward into a semblance of a smile. “I’ll see you later, Emerson.”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll text you later tonight.”

It takes every ounce of strength I have to get out of the car, but I know my time is running out. My feet hit the pavement but Emerson’s hand on my arm stops me in place. I look over my shoulder at him. “I know you’re scared, Presley. I can tell. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. I will be your armor.”

“I know,” is all I manage to mutter before leaning back and giving him one final kiss.

My legs are weak, but somehow I manage to push myself up from the seat and exit the car. Helpless, I watch him drive away, frozen in place on the curb. Once he disappears from my sight, I swallow hard and run into the mansion.

I have to leave before it’s too late.

CHRISSY’S IN MY ROOM WHEN
I get home. She doesn’t move an inch when I burst through the door. It’s only when I start throwing things into my suitcase that she registers my presence. “Whoa, Presley, what the fuck are you doing?” she asks, jumping up and grabbing me by the wrists. I gasp for air, my chest heaving with each labored breath.

“I met Emerson’s parent’s today.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that it didn’t go well.”

I glare at her and pull my arms away from her angrily. “No, it didn’t go well, Chrissy!” I yell, my eyes burning with anger.

“Calm down, Pres.” Chrissy holds her hands up in surrender. I never yell, so she senses that my mental status isn’t exactly stable at the moment. “We can talk about this. Leaving isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I can’t calm down!” I cry out, tears spilling from my eyes, and I collapse onto the ground, letting free the emotions I’ve tried so hard to push away.

Chrissy joins me on the floor, wrapping her arms around me while I sob. She gently strokes my hair as I cry on her shoulder. It isn’t fair. Time to mourn the life I thought I could have. “Tell me what’s wrong, Presley,” she pleads.

I pick my head up and rub the mascara from under my eyes. “I need to run away. You’ve got to help me, Chrissy. He’s going to kill me.”

“Who’s going to kill you?” she asks.

“Big Earl.”

“Why would Big Earl kill you?”

“Because I’m in love with his son.”

Chrissy’s mouth drops in shock, her hand eventually covering her mouth. I can see the tears welling in her eyes before she speaks again. “Oh my god. Tell me what happened.”

I rehash the day’s events for her: recapping the moment I laid eyes on Big Earl in that house, all the way until he made his threats. “Chrissy, what am I going to do? How am I going to do this?”

Without a word, she gets up and leaves my room for brief moment before returning with a wad of cash in her hand. She kneels down and puts the money in my hand while keeping hers on top. “Take it.”

“I can’t take this, Chrissy. You’ve already done too much for me, and I know you need it.” Chrissy has been saving her money so that she can take care of her current situation. Her stomach is starting to round, and I know she’s getting close to missing her window of opportunity. She’s been putting it off, telling me that she needs more money, but I know, deep down, she’s struggling with her decision. I can’t take her money. She needs it more than I do.

She shrugs. “I love you, Presley, and I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe. Take the money, leave your cell phone, get on a bus and get out of here. Once you get wherever you’re going, get a job, get a new phone, and
then
call me.”

“What about you? He’ll come after you.” Tears roll down my cheeks knowing that things are about to get a whole lot worse for Chrissy.

“I’ll take care of myself. I promise.”

Nodding, I swallow the sadness. “What about Emerson?” I ask. It seems like a stupid question considering my life is in danger, but love makes you do crazy things. I realize that now.

“I’ll tell him you’re safe.”

A sob escapes my throat. I can’t imagine living my life without him, but I know it’s the only way to keep us both safe.

“He’ll be okay, Presley. It’ll take time, but one day both of you will be able to find someone that can make you happy.”

“It won’t be the same.”

Chrissy pauses before nodding and saying, “But it will be enough.”

I sob again and Chrissy puts her arm around my neck, kissing my forehead. “C’mon, girl. You gotta get out of here before Big Earl comes for you.”

I hop to my feet and throw the few material possessions I have into my suitcase. Grabbing the leather-bound book of poetry from my nightstand, I clutch it to my chest. The weight of it in my hands is heavier in my heart than it actually is and I run my fingers along the binding and clutch it tightly to my chest before gently placing it on top of my clothes, zipping up the bag.

“I guess that’s it,” I croak, my swollen eyes finding Chrissy’s. It hits me like a ton of bricks: this will be the last time I see her for a while, and she obviously realizes the same as her reddened eyes search mine.

“Fuck,” she breathes, hugging me tightly again, “I meant to keep strong for you, but I just can’t. I’m going to miss you like hell, Presley.”

Unable to speak a word, I nod against her neck. We clutch onto each other for as long as we can before letting go. My heart aches—not just for her, but for Emerson too. He deserves so much more. I grab my suitcase and hand Chrissy my phone. “Make him believe it.” I say half-heartedly.

She nods. “I will. I promise. He’ll think you’re as happy as a pig in shit.”

We laugh curtly, despite the heaviness of the moment before I kiss her on the cheek one final time and quickly turn away from her, not wanting to watch the sadness spill from her eyes; hearing the sniffles from behind me is enough. My arm is heavy as I reach for the doorknob, and I stop for a second when my hand touches the cool metal. I have to go. I have to leave now or I risk my life. Remembering the risk, I’m able to step out into the hallway, looking both ways before racing toward the front door and tumbling out into the street.

Pulling the hood of my sweatshirt over my head I start toward the Strip. It’ll be busy there, making it easier to blend in among the crowd of tourists. Under the cover of the darkness, I walk down the sidewalk. I can see the lights of the busy strip up ahead, and they symbolize to me that everything is going to be okay. “Because even in the darkest hours, you need to find light,” I whisper to myself. I believe it too.

Hands wrap around my waist. I try to scream but the hand over my mouth stifles it. I try to breathe, but I can’t. It smells funny. Suddenly, I don’t feel well; like I’m going to pass out. I thrash against the strong arms, but it does no good. My head nods forward and the darkness takes over me.