Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (17 page)

I grabbed my mother and shuffled my grandparents out of the house. Three police cars were just pulling in the driveway, and things were going from bad to worse quickly. I couldn’t process what was happening, but I respected Daniel, and if he wanted us to leave we needed to leave.

My grandparents got into their car. Grandmother was crying and Grandfather was shaken. I told them to stay put while I tried to get my mother into her car, which was not an easy task. She was standing in the driveway, laughing and taunting them, and she was enjoying it. She had clearly achieved what she came to do.

Emerson came running across the driveway with Daniel chasing her. Finn and Indy were right behind him.

“Cross. Please stop. I don’t understand,” she cried out, sobbing. She grabbed me and wrapped her arms around me. I attempted to hold her, but things were moving so fast.

Daniel pried her away. “It ends now, Emerson. He was using you. He came here to hurt us,” Daniel said, and I could see his eyes were overflowing with emotion.

This had destroyed him. It all finally clicked together. The man who tried to take everything from him twenty-some years ago was my biological father. Of course he would think I was involved in this. How could he not? He would never be able to accept me. I realized at that moment that my mother was not my only cross to bear. The father that I had never known was also my cross to bear. This would never be OK. This was an impossible situation. Everyone I loved had lied to me, and I was the son of an evil man who had tried to murder the mother of the woman I loved. My head was spinning. I couldn’t see straight.

“Cross! Tell him that it’s not true! Tell him!” Emerson shouted desperately.

But I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what I could possibly say. The police approached, and I started to walk to my car as they asked Daniel if he needed assistance. I looked back, and Emerson was down on her knees on the driveway, broken, and keening in her pain. Finn and Indy were trying to comfort her. Daniel and I locked eyes, and I saw such hatred that I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I had never felt as ashamed and worthless as I did at that moment.

I got into the car with my grandparents, and I drove them home. We didn’t say a word on the drive home. I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks as I drove, and the lump in my throat was too large to start a conversation with them. As we walked into our apartment, my grandmother squeezed my hand. With tears in her eyes, she simply said, “I’m so sorry, son.”

I knew for certain that nothing would ever be the same again after that moment. I couldn’t fathom that I had a father who was alive, and he was a convicted criminal. The blood that ran through my veins was that of a murderer and a drug addict. What chance did I ever have at being anything good when I was created by such darkness?

My mother had never told me any of this until she thought her source for money was gone. She destroyed me because I didn’t want to fight, and I wanted to go to college? It all seemed like a bad dream, but in fact it was the nightmare of my existence. God had shown me what real love was. He had allowed me to be accepted into a family that was pure and good only to show me that I wasn’t worthy. Was this the penalty of being the child of evil? Was this the price I had to pay? As I fell asleep that night, I couldn’t get the image of Emerson crumpled on the driveway and begging me to tell her dad the truth out of my mind. But what was the truth? I was the son of Blane DiAmico. The man who haunted Daniel’s nightmares.

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c h a p t e r    f o u r t e e n

After I packed the final box, I sat down on my bed and assessed my room. I was leaving for school the next day. The last few weeks had been a blur. My entire life had been turned upside down, and it would never be the same again. I had decided to leave a few weeks early for school because staying any longer in that house felt more like a prison sentence than a life. My father was acting as if we were under attack and was barely recognizable. The summer had been anything but sunny. The darkness felt so heavy at times, I didn’t feel I would get through the day. The only boy I had ever loved was the son of Blane DiAmico, public enemy number one in the Hollingsworth household.

Cross and I had not spoken since that night and probably never would. My father was convinced that he was conspiring with Blane DiAmico to destroy our family. I knew in my heart that couldn’t be true, but a part me wondered if I was just blinded by love. Cross had never called or come over to explain things to me, and I certainly couldn’t reach out to him. I guess he had no choice though, because my dad had had Cross and his family served with restraining orders within hours of finding out that Blane DiAmico was Cross’s father. Cross would be arrested if he came within five hundred feet of any of us, and my dad had
twenty-four-hour security on all of us. I think he doubled up on the security for me because he didn’t trust me not to do something stupid.

But I didn’t even know what to do. I could never betray my family. It was an impossible situation, and my heart ached. I dreamed every night about those blue eyes. I never took my necklace off, and so I felt close to him in a way. Every night when I fell asleep, I pictured those eyes and the way he looked at me, and I heard his voice whispering in my ear,
I love you to the moon and back.
I ached, I cried, I slept a lot, and I made a vow to myself that I never, ever would allow myself to feel like this again. I would never allow myself to love someone the way that I had loved Cross again, because I would never want to hurt like this again.

Paisley and Mila were like angels sent from heaven over those last few weeks. They listened ad nauseam to my questions and theories, and they let me cry and be angry. They wanted me to stay away from Cross as well because they had never seen my dad like that before. He was like a military officer in battle. My mother was devastated that her nightmare had become mine. My mom slept in my room for several nights after the incident, and she just held me as I cried. I felt like my mom understood my heartache, and she let me cry and allowed me to be sad. We were closer than ever, because for the first time in my entire life I felt lost. I had always been confident and driven, but for those last few weeks of summer, I didn’t know where I wanted to go. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I felt vulnerable and lonely, and my heart ached all the time. Everything reminded me of Cross. My dad reminded me of him every day and constantly told me he had fooled us. Running was my only outlet—a time to clear my head. I had thrown myself into running, and it helped me process things. My mother understood why I wanted to leave for school early. I needed a fresh start. I needed to be away from everyone at home. The memories. The sadness. The disappointment. Everything.

As I unpacked my two suitcases, I looked around my dorm room. My summer had been anything other than what I had expected. Emerson and I had had so many plans for our summer together, and none of them ever happened. I had spent the first two weeks after that awful night at the Hollingsworths’ with my grandparents, and I never left the apartment. My mom had attempted to come see me, but for the first time in my life, I had refused her. I wanted nothing to do with her. My entire life had been a lie, and she only told me the truth when it benefited her and destroyed me. My grandparents wanted me to stay away from her, and they were devastated for me by all that had happened. They both insisted that my mother had told them that my father had died—the same lie that she had told me. I had no reason not to believe them;
they had never lied to me. She had deceived us all, and that was the last time I would allow her to hurt me.

The Hollingsworths had a restraining order put on me. If I came within five hundred feet of any of them, I would be arrested. They hated me. My father was the root of all of Daniel’s nightmares, so how could they possibly not hate me? I was disgusted by who my father was, and it didn’t help that my mother wasn’t much better.

I had decided to come early to Notre Dame and start training with my football team sooner rather than later. There was nothing for me at home any longer, and I needed the distraction of football to help me get through all that had happened. Blane DiAmico, my biological father, had reached out to me three days before I left for school. My mother must have given him my phone number. I took the call and listened to him as he told me that he would really like to meet me. It was a difficult situation all around because I despised him, and I didn’t even know him. I decided to go meet him face-to-face and hear him out. I felt as if it was the right thing to do.

It did not pan out well, but it gave me closure on the realization of who my biological parents were. We met at the diner right up the street from where I lived. He and my mother had clearly been talking, because she showed up as well. I felt my blood boil at the mere site of her. She disgusted me. But she didn’t speak; she just sheepishly looked down at the table when I sat down.

Blane was not what I had expected. I definitely took after my mother’s side of the family because I didn’t see any resemblance when I looked at him. He was fair-skinned, and he looked much older than his age. Prison had not been kind to him, but I doubted prison life was very flattering for anyone. His hair was wavy and sparse, and he was thin and frail. He had blue eyes, but they didn’t seem to be the color of my blue eyes, and so I felt a sense of relief that there was no physical resemblance whatsoever.

“You must be Cross,” he said nervously.

“I must be,” I replied quietly.

“Be polite. Give him a chance,” my mother said. When she looked me in the eyes, I saw her deep sadness. She knew that she had lost me forever. I could tell by the look in her desperate eyes.

“Don’t you dare tell me how to behave. You have no right to tell me anything,” I snapped at her.

“Cross, I know you and your mom are having some issues. But I really just wanted to meet you and tell you that I was sorry that I hadn’t reached out to you sooner,” Blane said, trying to steer the focus back to our meeting.

“Had you known about me before now?” I asked curiously.

“Yes. Your mother was pregnant when I got locked up. We fell out of touch, and I never heard from you, so I assumed you just didn’t want to know me.” He sounded honest, if I were to assume he was capable of being honest.

“Well, she told me you were dead. But if we’re being honest…” I said, pausing to see his reaction. He waved me on as if he could take whatever I had to say. “I wouldn’t have wanted to know you. What you did was unforgivable, and I actually wish that I had never found out you were my father,” I said coldly.

“That’s fair. I understand that you’re involved with the Hollingsworth family, and I want you to know that I regret what I did to them so many years ago. I was a messed-up kid, caught up in drugs, as well as being involved with the wrong people. I am not going to ever bother them again, I give you my word,” he said, staring intently at me.

“You give me your word? What does that mean? I don’t even know you. And trust me; you will not go near the Hollingsworth family. I will make sure of it,” I said, and I clenched my fists to help control my anger.

“I understand your anger toward me, Cross, I really do. I just wanted to meet you and thought maybe now that I’m out, we could get to know each other,” he said nervously.

“Well, you thought wrong. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t even know you, and you destroyed everything that was good in my life. You and my mother are made for each other. You’re both toxic,” I said, standing up from the table.

“Cross! Don’t speak to your father like that!” my mother shouted in a reprimanding way.

“My father? Are you crazy? Neither of you have ever been parents to me. You didn’t raise me, and you don’t know me. I would appreciate it if you would both stay away from me. We’ve met, and it’s done,” I said, and I was stone-faced. I had no emotion for either of these people. I turned and walked out the door. It felt good to walk away knowing that I didn’t want anything to do with either of them. For the majority of my life, I had longed to know my parents, and now I hoped never to see them again.

I thought back to that day while unpacking, and I still felt good about walking out of that diner the way I did. I wanted to close the door on that chapter of my life. They had cost me everything that I cared about. I felt as if I was grieving still. The loss of Emerson had proved to be the most difficult thing that I had ever been through. Emerson was my soul mate, and I knew that I would never
love anyone else the way that I loved her. I had also grown so close to her family that to lose all of them was more than I could handle.

I tried to close my eyes at night and think of anything other than Emerson, but the image of her down on her knees and crying on the driveway had burned itself into my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, she was all that I saw. I would toss and turn all night, but I hoped that once I started practice the next day, I would just collapse from exhaustion at night.

The door swung open. “Hey! Are you Cross?” a tall, muscular guy asked as he walked in the room.

“Yes. I’m Cross,” I said, offering my hand to shake.

He had a firm handshake. “I’m Greg. Nice to meet you, dude. Heard you are quite a player, and I look forward to playing with you,” he said as he checked out the stuff that I had moved in.

“Are you on the team?” I inquired.

“Yep. I’m the new quarterback, dude. Looks as if we’re roommates on and off the field.”

“Oh wow, you’re Greg Williams. I’ve heard a lot about you,” I said in realization.

“Yep. Just got here from California,” he said, throwing his suitcase on the bed.

“You came a long way. Have you met anyone else from the team yet?” I asked, curious because I had only met a few players on my recruit trip.

“When I flew out to see the school, Coach introduced me to a few players. Aside from that, you’re the only one I’ve met,” he said as he tore into his suitcase.

“Same here. But I think we start practice tomorrow, so we’ll meet everyone then, I guess,” I said as I finished unloading my clothes into one of the dressers.