Fight With Me (Fight and Fall) (18 page)

             
He sighs, obviously sorry that it wasn’t just a case of me being stranded on the side of the road.

             
“I saw Lucas’s car and…I saw that your phone and your purse were inside. I had this awful feeling come over me and I knew you were in trouble. Something pulled me, I can’t explain it. Something made me go into the forest and when I did…I saw you lying on the ground.”

             
“I won’t ever forget how scared I was. You weren’t moving, didn’t even seem to be breathing. I thought you were dead. I rushed over to you and when I did, you looked up at me. I figured you were disoriented because you just kept saying ‘Jeremiah’ over and over again.”

             
“Jeremiah was my husband, Leo. He died of cancer before I moved here and I thought you were him. I thought I was dead and he was with me. Like a guardian angel or something.”

             
He looks at me, almost as if he understands me better now. Like everything fits in to place. The moving in with Aiden so quickly, my friendship with Lucas, everything. He knows I’m broken and trying to heal the only way I knew how to. The choices I’ve made have been rushed, rash, and just
me
. That’s the kind of person I am.
I'm like kale, that leafy green shit. I'm an acquired taste. You either hate me or love me. Either way, I really don't give a fuck, especially not anymore.

             
He places his hand on mine, touching it as if to say, ‘I get it now’.

             
“I called Aiden when I got to the hospital and let me tell you, I’ve never seen anybody so scared or angry about what happened to you. Nobody knew who did it but…we had our suspicions. Only when Todd admitted everything did it all fall into place,” he says.

             
“Where is Marcus, Leo?”

             
“He’s gone, Emma. He left town and nobody knows where. They still have Todd and the other guys in custody but they still need your statement. The police should be coming by in a bit and you can tell them everything.”

             
Fucking Marcus. Figures he would be gone.

My blood starts to rise, the anger and injustice wreaking havoc within me. How nice that he can just leave and
continue his life. I’m stuck in this fucking bed, trapped because of him.

             
“Before I passed out, Marcus said his reason for everything was because of money. Do you know what he meant?”

             
“Yeah but I think Aiden should explain everything. It’s not my place to say and I’m sure he would be upset if he knew I told you.”

             
I nod, not wanting Aiden to give him more hell that I’m sure he’s probably already gotten.

             
“Honey, do you want to rest some more or do you want to talk to Aiden? He’s still outside waiting for you. I think he wants your ‘okay’ to be let back in,” he says.

             
I sigh, realizing that sooner or later we have to talk about things.

             
“You can bring him back in, I guess,” I whisper.

             
He nods and leaves the room, bringing back a crazed looking Aiden with him. He seems as if any little thing could set him off. He notices me staring and his anger lessens but only slightly. I see him try to look at me but for some reason, he isn’t capable of it for long.

             
“I’ll leave you kids alone,” Leo murmurs, exiting the room.

             
There is so much tension between us, you could cut it with a chainsaw. How did this happen? The person I loved more than anything has become the person I loathe the most. I hate that he made me think I could have more. He made me hope and now all hope is lost.

             
“Tell me what you know. About why this happened to me,” I say cutting to the chase.

             
He looks torn and I don’t know why.

             
“Why do you think, Emma?”

             
“Really, Aiden? You want to play fucking mind games? I don’t know why! Marcus told me it was because of money but what does that have to do with
me
?!” I practically yell, wincing in pain.

             
He sighs loudly, sitting back down on the chair in the corner. He rubs the back of his neck roughly, clearly troubled by what he’s about to tell me.

             
“This is all my fault. The reason you are here is because of me,” he breathes out.

             
I keep quiet, waiting for him to explain that unclear comment.

             
“Why does it always come down to fucking money with people?” he laughs harshly. “Don’t they get that it means nothing?!” he says glancing at me.

             
“He wanted my money, Emma. He and Jessica wanted the money my old man left to me in his will.”

             
Jessica
and
Marcus wanted his money? I didn’t even know that they knew each other. Dumb, Emma. It is a small town after all. What the fuck did you expect?! I should have figured. Sick, twisted individuals like them usually gravitate towards one another.

             
“Todd told the police that Marcus had been feeding her shit about me. What I was doing and when I met you…I guess it just all turned to hell. She knew about you the day after I started the divorce proceedings. He told her about us and she probably figured that I was divorcing her to be with you, which technically I was. I should’ve done it much earlier and then this would have never happened. I’m such a fucking idiot!”

             
I sigh in frustration and anger. I can’t believe everything I’ve been through was because of money. My life, my baby, everything is gone because of their greed and Aiden’s cowardice.

             
“I’m so sorry, Emma. If I would have known this was all going to happen, I…” he breathes out.

             
He probably would have stayed married and never gotten involved with me, that’s what he would’ve done. The only problem is that you can’t think ‘what if’. It’s much too late for that.

             
“You have no idea how sick I feel knowing about you and our child, Emma. I wanted that baby so badly and I’m not sure if I can get over the loss,” he says barely looking at me.

             
“You can’t get over it?! Do you even now what happened to me, Aiden?” I yell.

             
His face looks shocked, slightly pained by my outburst.

             
“Well, let me tell you what happened! I was tackled from behind, when my arm snapped underneath the weight of my body. I was dragged into the woods like a sack of shit, where I was repeatedly kicked and punched. On top of all that, I was in the middle of a panic attack and could barely catch my breath. Do you know what it feels like, thinking you’re taking your very last breath? For a while, I thought I was dead. I was so far gone, I didn’t even know where I was. So don’t even think that you feel an ounce of what I’m feeling. That baby…I was supposed to protect it and I failed.”

             
“No, Emma, baby…”

             
“You failed too! The only reason I’m here is because you didn’t have the balls to divorce Jessica when you should have. You dragged me down into all your bullshit, once again. God, and I thought finding out you were married was bad. No, the worst part is your wife and your fucking mechanic plotted against me. If I would have known what would’ve happened to me just by knowing you, I would’ve left this town and never looked back. I would’ve never had anything to do with you. I hate you, Aiden. I fucking hate you with everything in me.”

             
He looks completely away from me once again, which makes me even more furious.

             
“Why can’t you fucking look at me?! Ever since I’ve woken up, you barely look at me! Is my face that fucked up that I disgust you?”

             
“No, Emma, don’t think…” he rushes out finally looking at me.

             
“Get a mirror,” I snap.

             
“Baby, stop…”

             
“Now, Aiden. I want to see my face. I want to see what makes you so uncomfortable.”

             
He looks torn, hesitating before returning back into my room with a compact mirror.

             
I snatch it away from him and am horrified by what I see. God, this is so much worse than I thought it would be.

             
My eyes are black and blue and swollen but what makes me sick are the lacerations. My lips are split, cuts running down and across my skin, almost as if someone played tic-tac-toe on my face. Part of my nose is indented from my piercing, obviously one of the studs they had to dig out. My eyebrow hair is missing in the middle, a deep horizontal scare in its place. Stiches cover my face and I now understand why the skin has felt tight, making it an effort to talk or make facial expressions.

             
I exhale harshly, my breathing labored. I close my eyes as the compact mirror drops to my lap in front of me. I’ve think I’ve seen enough.

             
“Get out,” I say, my voice quivering.

             
“Emma, I’m not leaving you. I…” Aiden says.

             
“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!” I yell, cutting him off.

             
I grind my teeth, just wanting him to get away from me. If I can barely stand to look at myself, how can he stomach the sight of me?

             
I hear him breathe out sharply, footsteps retreating farther and farther away from me. The sound of a door shutting in the distance makes me open my eyes, the empty room a perfect representation of how I feel on the inside.

             
I bite my lip, probably drawing blood in the process but I don’t really fucking care. What’s one more injury to the long list of battle scars?

             
I hear a knock at the door, ready for another fight with Aiden. What did he not understand about me wanting him gone?

             
“Go away, Aiden!” I scream loudly.

             
“Miss Blackwell, I’m with the Astoria Police Department. We need to talk to you please. If you want us to come back later we can. We just really need to speak with you and get a statement if your able to,” I hear a deep voice say from behind the door.

             
I clench my teeth, the last thing I want to do right now is talk to the police. I realize that I have no choice. If I want Marcus and his friends to be put away, I need to tell my side of the attack.

             
“Come in,” I say, my voice unsteady.

             
I look up, noticing an older man with graying hair come into the room. My guess is that he’s in his mid to late fifties. His black uniform makes me cringe, bad memories rising to the surface.

A younger officer comes in after him,
his dark brown hair nearly shaven off in a military-like cut. His muscular, stocky build only accentuated by his uniform. He’s maybe only a few inches taller than me, but I can tell that his height doesn’t hinder him. A slight lump is visible on the bridge of his nose, probably from being broken several times over. I move my gaze up to his strong eyebrows, as we accidentally lock eyes, his hazel eyes flaring. My throat constricts, making it difficult to breathe normally. I see him wince, the shock of my injuries reflected on his face.

             
I look away from him, licking my dry lips in apprehension. What just happened between us? I thought police officers were supposed to be void of the look he just gave me. It was almost as if he saw inside me, all of the pain I endured.

             
I mentally shake myself, still looking away from both of the police officers. I just want them to ask their questions and leave.

             
“Miss Blackwell, I’m Officer Mendez and this is Officer Fitzgerald. Thank you for agreeing to talk to us. I know you must still be in a lot of pain,” the voice I heard outside says.

             
I assume this is the older officer because I still won’t turn to look at him. My anger starts to rise again, the feeling of embarrassment washing over me. I don’t like people seeing me in this vulnerable state, pitying me.

             
“I think my unborn baby went through more pain then I did, officer,” I say harshly, now facing both of them.

             
Officer Mendez doesn’t blink an eye at my candor but Officer Fitzgerald is a different matter. I see him visibly flinch by my words, startled by my abrupt comment.

             
“I’m very sorry for what happened to you. If you haven’t already heard, we have all but one of the men involved in the attack in custody right now. We just need a formal statement of the incident so we can build a solid case against them,” Officer Mendez says methodically.