Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (12 page)

Read Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov Online

Authors: L. B. Pavlov

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Sports, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Shari rushed over. “I told you this fight tomorrow could bring in a lot of money for you, baby. You definitely need to do it now,” she said adamantly.

“What? No. He does not need to fight. I can’t believe you’re saying this,” I said to her angrily.

“Emerson, I need to fight. This is our only option. My grandparents have no money. I can’t turn my back on him. I need to help him,” he said urgently.

“You don’t have to fight. Let’s call my dad. I know my dad would help him,” I said pleadingly.

“Absolutely not. Your dad is not paying my bills, Emerson. This is my problem, not his. He will never respect me if I can’t handle things on my own,” he said, and I could tell that he had made up his mind.

“I agree, Cross. This is our problem. You can handle it. The guy they want you to fight has never been beaten, so you can make a couple thousand dollars just for getting in the ring with him,” she said encouragingly.

“And getting his head smashed in. What kind of mother are you? What’s wrong with you?” I shouted, and I turned and walked toward the doors. I was done. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch that woman convince him that this was a good idea. I stormed out of the hospital, and I felt Cross walking closely behind me.

“Emerson, please. Please don’t do this right now. I need you to understand,” he said, attempting to stop me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t want you to fight. I especially don’t want you fighting a guy who has never lost a fight and does this for a living. There is another way. I’m not standing by and watching you do this,” I shouted harshly.

He pulled my car keys out of his pocket, remembering that we had come in my car. I snatched the keys and started to walk away. But I felt horrible. I turned around and saw him just standing there, looking devastated.

I walked back toward him. “Cross. I love you. I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Please call me if there is any change. But I can’t stand by and watch you walk into a dangerous situation because your selfish mother can’t see beyond herself,” I said angrily.

“Emerson, please understand. I have to do this for my grandfather. My grandparents have done everything for me. I love them. Please don’t leave me right now,” he said, his head hung low. He looked like he had hit his breaking point.

I grasped his hand. “I’m not supporting you fighting tomorrow. I’m not speaking to your mother any more tonight. But I will sit with you because I love you, and I don’t want you to be alone here,” I said, and he hugged me tightly. This was a tricky situation for me because when I didn’t agree with something, I never wavered. But this situation was unique, and I couldn’t turn my back on him. He needed me.

“I love you so much. Don’t you see, my mother is my cross to bear in life? I don’t have a choice. But my grandparents…I love them. I really do,” he said, and we walked back in the hospital, our hands intertwined.

“I know you do. And I understand that. But, Cross, they wouldn’t want you to fight. I know they wouldn’t,” I said passionately.

“They have taught me to survive, Emerson. And this is surviving. When you don’t have money, you find a way to get it when you need it. This is something that I can do for them,” he said as we sat down in the chairs.

Shari approached us, and I looked away. “I’m going to go. I’m sure Grandfather will be fine. I’ll meet you at the fight tomorrow. You better not cancel, Cross. I will get this set up for you, but you need to be there. Good-bye, Emerson Hollingsworth,” she said coldly.

I looked up at her, and if looks could kill, she’d be the one that was in need of a hospital bed. She didn’t even stay to make sure that her father was OK. All that she cared about was herself. I squeezed Cross’s hand because I suddenly realized that he was right. This woman was his cross to bear. She had brought him into the world, and she was going to hold that over his head for as long as she could. I sat there quietly wondering what my cross to bear was. I had loving parents who completely supported me, an incredible family. I went to a great school, I had a beautiful house, and I had never wanted for anything. I had always assumed everyone had parents like mine, and for the first time, I was aware that life wasn’t always fair. Cross was such a good person, and this was his burden. I felt a pit in my stomach.

We sat quietly for a few more hours. Cross signed all the paperwork and told the hospital that he would have the money to them within two days. There was distance between us now because nothing had changed regarding the fight. I still didn’t support him fighting, and he still insisted on doing it. When it was
time to leave, we drove home in silence. I had said all that I needed to say, and I couldn’t back down just because I loved him. We pulled into my driveway, and we both got out of the car. His motorcycle was parked in the driveway, and he would ride home. He walked me to the door.

“Thank you for staying with me,” he said quietly.

“Of course. I love you,” I said, and I gave him a hug and turned away.

“I love you too,” he said, trying to grasp my hand.

“Call me after your fight tomorrow to let me know you’re OK,” I said, and I turned and walked into my house.

My parents came rushing to the door for an update. I told them the whole story, and they just listened and let me vent. After I had gotten it all out, I waited to see what they thought. “I understand why you don’t want him to fight, honey. But I understand why he feels the need to do it,” my father said.

“You do? But it’s not right. I told him that we would help them,” I said frustrated.

“Of course we would, and we will, if that’s what he decides that he wants to do. But you have to let him make decisions for himself, Emerson. This is not your decision to make,” he said, and he looked at my mom for some support.

“Dad’s right, sweetie. But I would be worried and upset if I were you too. I understand that you don’t want him to do it, and honestly, I don’t want him to do it either. It’s dangerous. But it’s not up to us,” my mom said.

“Why would his mom do this to him? I just don’t understand her,” I said, and my voice was shaking.

“Emerson, she is an addict. She isn’t thinking clearly. No parent would put their child in danger on purpose, unless they had some serious issues,” my father said.

“Thanks, guys. I am so lucky to have you. I need to get to bed. I love you,” I said, and I gave them both a hug and a kiss good-night.

The next day was a nightmare. I was an absolute mess at school. All I could think of was Cross and that he would be fighting that night. He had texted me a few times, but all that I had texted back was “Good luck. Call me after to let me know that you are OK.”

It was short and cold, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more until it was over. I got through practice, but it wasn’t easy. I was very distracted, and that was not normal for me. I had a race the next day after school, so I needed to get focused. When I got out of practice, I suddenly felt the need to text Cross one more time: “I love you.”

That was all it said because I was becoming more and more nervous that he would get hurt. I felt the anxiousness grow as the day moved on and the fight got closer. He had texted me throughout the day, telling me how much he loved me and how sorry he was that he was letting me down, etcetera. I just tried to keep myself calm and not get worked up.

When I got home, there were several cars in my driveway, most of which I didn’t recognize, but one was Uncle Carlos’s, so I wasn’t sure what was going on. I walked in the door, and you could feel the tension in the air. My dad was in the dining room with four police officers and Uncle Carlos. They looked extremely serious, and my father did not even notice me walking by. Uncle Carlos winked at me, but I could see the discomfort on his face.

I went into the kitchen and my mom was cooking away, as if nothing was going on.

“Hi, angel,” my mother said in her beautiful voice.

“Uh, what’s going on? Who are those men in the dining room with Dad and Uncle Los?” I said concerned.

“Well, they are just here as a precaution. Nothing to worry about. You have enough on your plate, angel girl,” she said, walking over to give me a hug.

“What kind of precaution?” I pressed further.

“Well, remember when Dad and I told you that many, many years ago some men had grabbed me when I was pregnant with Indy?” she said, and I could see how uncomfortable she was discussing this with me. My mom wanted this to go away, and the best way for her to do it was to pretend it wasn’t happening. Classic Charlotte Hollingsworth.

“Yes! Of course I remember! What is going on, Mom!” I shouted angrily.

“Emerson Grace, do not speak to me that way. Calm down,” she said in as angry a tone as my mother was capable of, which was nothing compared to mine.

“I’m sorry. Please tell me what’s going on,” I insisted.

“One of the three men is going to be getting out on parole in a couple of weeks. Your dad is just trying to make sure that we have our bases covered in case he were to…contact us,” she said nervously, rolling out some pie dough.

“Why is he getting out? What about the other men? Do you think he will try to hurt you or Dad?” I said, and my voice was growing loud again.

“Well, people change, Emerson. He is getting out for good behavior. Maybe he has changed himself. Which would be a good thing,” she said, and she smiled at me.

“What in the hell are you talking about? Maybe the lunatic has changed? Are you serious?” I bellowed. I was beyond discussing this with my mom, who
was acting as if he may come by for some pie and milk! This man almost killed her and Indy, and my dad had been having the nightmares for the last twenty years to prove it!

“Calm down, Emerson. I’m just saying that we don’t all need to get so worked up. I don’t think anything will come of this,” she said, looking at me as if she was OK but pounding on the dough as if she was hiding her fear.

“What do the police think? Are they worried?” I asked, concern replacing the anger in my voice.

“Aren’t the police always concerned? It’s their job to be concerned. It will be fine. They are handling the details,” she said, and she looked over toward the dining room.

“What kind of details?” I asked nervously.

“Just security stuff. Making sure everyone is safe. Nothing to worry about,” she said calmly.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mom! There is so much to worry about! Stop sugarcoating everything, please! There is a lunatic who is about to get out of jail, and he tried to kill you! I’m worried! My boyfriend is getting in a ring with a professional fighter tonight to try to make money for his grandfather who just had a heart attack! I’m
worried
! I am losing my mind!” I screamed.

My dad came charging into the kitchen. He was on high alert and looked as if he was ready to attack someone who had broken into our home. But it was just his high-strung, over-reacting teenage daughter.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, panic in his voice.

“Emerson is just blowing off some steam,” my mom said calmly as she rubbed her hand across his back to try to relax him.

“Blowing off some steam? Are you OK? Why are you screaming at your mother?” he demanded, and I could tell that he was not happy with me.

“I can’t talk about this anymore,” I said contritely.

“You apologize to your mother right now. You are not to speak to her in that tone,” he said, disappointment apparent in his eyes as he looked at me.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, bursting into tears and storming out of the kitchen toward my room.

I collapsed on my bed and continued to cry. I was on overload. I closed my eyes, and I must have drifted off for a while. When I opened my eyes, I grabbed my phone to see if Cross had texted. I had slept for two hours and had missed his calls. He had been on his way to the fight twenty minutes ago and had hoped to talk to me. I felt my heart sink. I was a stubborn idiot. I tried to call
his phone, but it went right to voicemail. I jumped out of my bed and ran out to the kitchen. My mom, dad, and Uncle Carlos were sitting at the table. Finn was in the family room watching TV.

“Are we feeling better?” my dad said quietly.

“You haven’t even had dinner yet, Emerson,” my mom said with concern in her voice.

“Dad, Mom, please, please let me go check on Cross. He is at the fight
now
. I have to go there. I have to!” I shouted, desperate for them to let me go.

“Emerson, you are not going to that fight. Do you hear me?” my dad said sternly.

“Dad, please. I’m begging you. I’m not sneaking out of the house and being deceitful, I’m asking you to let me go,” I said, and my Uncle Carlos chuckled under his breath at my argument.

“No. Not happening,” he said firmly.

Finn came sauntering into the kitchen. “I’ll go. Can I take her?” he asked, and for a moment I felt hopeful.

“Absolutely not,” my mother said, looking at my father for another option.

“He could be hurt. Don’t you care? I can’t believe you won’t let me go. I’m almost eighteen years old,” I insisted, desperate for them to hear my pleas as I paced around the kitchen like a crazy person.

My dad looked at Uncle Carlos and then at my mother. I think they all spoke in some sort of silent language. “Uncle Los and I will go. You are staying here,” my dad said, unwavering.

“Can’t I come with you?” I begged.

“Emerson, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. This is the deal. Take it or leave it,” he said, looking me in the eyes. When my dad had made his decision, there was no negotiating with him.

“I’ll take it,” I said, and I gave him and Uncle Carlos a big hug. I felt bad. I knew my dad was stressed about the lunatic guy getting out of jail, and I was adding more to his plate. But I needed to make sure that Cross was OK.

After my dad and uncle had left, my mom, Finn, and I sat at the table, playing cards to help pass the time. I was anxious, and they had grown anxious as well because we hadn’t heard from Cross and the fight should have happened already.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

There really wasn’t much that I wouldn’t do for my daughter. Emerson was very convincing when she wanted something, and I understood her concern for Cross. I never thought I would actually like anyone that my daughter dated, but Cross was a good kid. I liked him a lot. And he made my daughter very happy.

Other books

Secret of the Sevens by Lynn Lindquist
Brazen (Brazen 1) by Maya Banks
Bloody Williamson by Paul M. Angle
Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard by Belinda Roberts
Darwin's Paradox by Nina Munteanu
Surprise Package by Henke, Shirl
Highland Fling by Shelli Stevens