Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov (6 page)

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Authors: L. B. Pavlov

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

BOOK: Emerson's Fury : L.B. Pavlov
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Cross and I became inseparable after the Colts game. For the following two weeks, we talked throughout the day during our breaks at school, we texted constantly, and we saw each other whenever it was possible. We didn’t live super close to each other, but he came to my house a couple of times a week, or we went out for dinner. I loved riding on the back of his bike. I would wrap my arms tightly around him and press my head to his back. I loved how close to him I felt. I also loved that we could talk for hours. There were never enough hours in the day to tell him everything that I wanted to say or ask him everything that I wanted to know. He truly cared about every little detail of my day, and he was proud of my accomplishments. He was attentive and kind. Cross had even come over to run with me a couple of times. I loved running with him. We pushed each other, and time went by quickly because we talked the entire time.

We had only had two small problems so far, and I was wondering how to overcome them. The first one was his motorcycle. He didn’t know that my dad wouldn’t allow me to ride on it. Whenever we were going somewhere, I would tell my dad that we were meeting at a restaurant, and I would have Cross pick me up at my high school. I would just tell him I was at the school for some reason because I didn’t want to jeopardize his feelings about my
dad, and I loved riding on the back of his bike. I would have him drop me back off at my car, and he would always follow me home to make sure that I got home safely.

The other small problem was that he had yet to kiss me. We had been dating for two weeks, and still no kiss. I started to wonder if he just liked me as a friend. We held hands all the time, and he was so sweet. He would brush my hair away from my face when we were outside and it was windy. He always pulled out my chair at restaurants, and he was romantic in every other way. But he hadn’t kissed me, and it confused me. Paisley and Mila told me just to ask him about it, but I was uncomfortable. Maybe he just didn’t want to kiss me, I thought, and that kept me from asking him, at least for now.

That night I was going to his football game, and Paisley, Mila, and a group of friends were going with me. It was a big game. This would decide who would play St. Viator’s at state. I wanted Mt. Horizon to make it, because Cross wanted to go to state badly. The game was out at Mt. Horizon, so we all drove together. I was hoping that Cross would drive me home afterward.

I watched him play, and I was so proud of him. Cross didn’t have an easy life. He had another fight later tonight, and I didn’t think that fighting was a good idea. But I also didn’t understand his relationship with his mother, and it wasn’t my place to judge it. He didn’t want me to watch his fight, and so I was hoping he would take me home before the fight or maybe I could convince him to let me go with him. He played a great game, and he scored three of the four touchdowns. He really was incredible. We were all screaming from the stands for him. My friends were getting to know Cross, and everyone seemed to like him.

I went to find him after the game to see if I needed to ride home with my friends. I saw him come walking through the gate, and when our eyes met, I ran toward him. He was glistening with sweat, and he was so unbelievably beautiful to me. He gave me a giant hug, and then he leaned down and kissed me. This was not your average first kiss. This kiss could have ignited a bonfire. I couldn’t tell if my feet were even on the ground or if he was holding me up. His lips were warm and soft, and I definitely was no longer breathing. The kiss lasted for a good minute until he pulled away to look at me.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” he said sweetly as he gently stroked my face with his strong hand.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to do that too,” I said, beaming up at him, and I pulled him in to kiss me again.

After another minute we pulled away to catch our breath. “I just didn’t want to rush you, Emerson. I want to take things slow because I really care about you.” I could feel my heart race.

“I care about you too,” I said softly as I hugged him tightly. “I need to let my friends know if I need a ride home,” I added nervously.

“Do you want to ride home with them?” he asked as he grasped my hand.

“Well, what I really want is to go with you to your fight, and then you can take me home,” I said pleadingly.

“Emerson, this place is not a place that you want to hang out. It’s filled with drunks and dirtbags,” he said protectively.

“Oh please. I go to football games. I can handle myself. Take me with you. Please?” I said, hopeful that he was weakening.

“What time is your curfew?” he asked, not yet convinced, but I could tell he was wavering.

“I can get my parents to extend it to one o’clock, just this one time. Will you be finished by then?” I asked excitedly.

“I should be done by twelve thirty, and I can take you right home. But the only way I’m agreeing to this is if you wait in back in the dressing room while I fight. I can’t fight and be worried about you getting hurt out in the crowd,” he said, and I could tell that he was struggling with this decision.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so excited. I will go call my parents, and I’ll meet you at your bike!” I squealed.

“OK. We can go grab a quick bite to eat on our way to the fight,” he said, and he pulled me to him and kissed me once again. I was breathless as I floated off to call my parents.

I told my parents that we were going to dinner and a movie. I felt so bad about lying to them, but I knew my dad would never, ever let me go to a fight at a warehouse. He barely let me off the cul-de-sac before I was fifteen years old. He wouldn’t understand this, and I needed to be there for Cross. I ran to tell my friends that I wouldn’t need a ride, and Mila and Paisley couldn’t wait to hear the details about the first kiss later.

I saw him standing at his bike waiting for me. His smile made my stomach drop. He was tall and lean, and his muscles were evident through his T-shirt. His eyes caught me from a distance, and his gaze was intoxicating. His perfect face was sculpted and strong, and he was absolutely beautiful.

“My parents said one in the morning would be fine as long as I was with you,” I said proudly.

“OK. Hop on, little Miss One in the Morning,” he said, laughing. “Let’s go get a burger.”

Cross and I talked all through dinner and kissed every chance we got. It was magical, and it was more than worth the wait.

The warehouse was definitely a little bit sketchy. I wouldn’t have dreamed of going there by myself, so I understood why he was apprehensive. I grasped his hand, and he walked beside me as if he was trying to shield me. We entered through a back door, and inside it smelled like a combination of beer and sweat. The floor was filthy, and I noticed the dried blood on the floor as we walked toward the dressing room.

I suddenly thought of my parents. I had never lied to them before. I knew that if they found out I was there, they would be furious. I felt a pang of guilt because I never wanted to let them down, but they still saw me as a little girl. I knew I could handle myself just fine, and I had Cross with me. I justified my actions and told myself I was doing the right thing. I pushed my guilt aside and entered the dressing room.

“Still want to see my tattoos?” he asked mischievously.

“Yes,” I replied nervously, and I hopped up on a long table to sit down.

Cross pulled off his shirt, and you could probably hear my gasp all the way down the hall. He was exquisite. Chiseled. Aside from the incredible artwork, there was the incredible six-pack. I just stared, completely entranced by his perfection. I took his arm into my hand to inspect it. He had several Bible verses written out in small print, and both of his grandparents’ names in beautiful script across his bicep. He turned to let me see the cross that was on the top part of his back, and I pulled myself up on my knees so that I could reach it. I traced it with my fingers, and I could feel him tremble beneath my touch. He turned around, and he kissed me once again. The chemistry between us was indescribable. I ran my hands through his unruly hair and pulled him close to me, feeling his warm skin pressed against my T-shirt. There was a knock at the door, and we pulled ourselves apart.

“Come in,” Cross said, attempting to catch his breath.

The door opened, and a woman stood in the doorway. She looked surprised to see me sitting in the dressing room and didn’t try to hide it. She stared at me for an awkward amount of time, as if she was inspecting me, and then she looked at Cross.

“You’re on in five minutes,” she said sternly.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Emerson,” Cross said proudly.

“Well, that explains why you’ve missed your last two fights,” she said, and the irritation roughened her voice. I instantly didn’t like her. She didn’t treat him the way a mother should treat her son, and she seemed like a tough lady. She was rough around the edges, and you could tell that she had struggled with alcohol and drugs by her appearance. Her hair was several shades of blonde with dark grown-out roots. Her face was thin and drawn, and she definitely looked as if she had spent a lot of time in the sun, because her skin was parched and wrinkly. She was very thin, and her chest bones were protruding. Her clothes were filthy and worn, and she carried herself as if she too was ready for a fight.

“Let’s go,” she said sharply.

“I want you to stay in here. Do not leave this room,” Cross said insistently, grasping my hands. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

I pulled him to me and kissed him again.


Now
, Cross,” his mother snapped in a harsh tone, and she looked back and glared at me before leaving.

The door closed, and he was gone. I sat on the table for what seemed like an hour, but when I looked at my watch, it had only been seven minutes. I got up. I decided to open the door just to see if I could hear anything. The crowd was cheering and screaming. The fight seemed to be over. I realized I had moved down the hall a little, and I ran back to the room and hopped back on the table. When Cross came back into the room, his lip was bleeding and his chest was scratched.

“Oh my gosh! Are you OK?” I said, rushing to get a wet towel to clean him up.

“I’m fine. This is nothing,” he said, puzzled by my reaction.

“You’re bleeding, Cross,” I said, concerned.

“I was in a fight, Emerson. Of course I’m bleeding,” he said, laughing, and he grasped my hands in an attempt to calm me down.

His mom flew through the door. “Good win, baby.” Her tone was totally different now. Her whole disposition was suddenly gleeful. She pulled out $700 and looked at him expectantly. “Now, I’m going to need a couple hundred till I get on my feet, baby. Can you get by with just two hundred dollars for now?” she asked as she shoved $500 in her pocket.

“Sure, Mom. I just want to give some to Grandfather and Grandmother, because money’s tight for them right now,” he said, looking over at me to assess my reaction. I was disgusted. This woman was a train wreck. She was using
Cross to supply her needs, and it was obvious to me. I just smiled, and my heart broke for him because this was just a woman who had given birth to him; this was not a mother.

“OK, baby. Two hundred dollars should help them out. I’ll let your girlfriend clean you up. I have a friend to meet,” she said, rushing out the door.

I saw Cross’s face drop, and I walked back over to him and cleaned his wounds. I washed the blood off his chest and gently kissed the scratches that had torn his beautiful skin open. I pulled him to me and hugged him tightly. We didn’t need to say anything—he knew how bad I felt. His skin was hot and soft, and I pulled away to look into his eyes. Our lips met, and he kissed me as if I was his last breath of life. I tugged at his sweaty hair and pulled him close to me. When we pulled away, he looked up at the clock. “We need to go, Emerson. I don’t want you to be late,” he said, throwing on his shirt.

We jumped on his bike and headed to my house. I hugged him tightly as the wind blew against my face. I was hoping my parents would be asleep and wouldn’t hear the bike. He pulled in my driveway, and when I got off the bike, I noticed my dad standing on the front porch. His arms were crossed, and he did not look happy. My dad never got mad at me. This was a first. I was in unchartered territory for sure, and I felt a pit in my stomach.

“Cross, Emerson, would you please step inside. I’d like to speak to you both,” he said in a serious tone.

Cross looked very nervous, and I felt sick to my stomach. The look in my father’s eyes was alarming. He was clearly upset. When we walked through the front doorway, I could see my mother sitting on the couch, and my father led the way into the family room.

Finn was standing near the doorway, and he leaned in and whispered, “They know everything. Tell the truth and say you’re sorry.” Then he winked at me. Finn was a good brother. He was used to getting in trouble, so he was trying to help me.

Cross and I walked into the family room and sat down. My mom looked really upset, and my dad still had his arms crossed and was pacing.

“So, you’re lying to us now, Emerson?” he said. If you looked “disappointment” up in the dictionary, it would have included a picture of my father at that very moment.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d let me go to the fight,” I said shamefully. Cross looked over at me, clearly surprised that I hadn’t told my parents where I was going.

“You’re right, Emerson. I wouldn’t have let you go. That is no place for you to be hanging out. And it’s not a place that you should be hanging out either,” he said sharply to Cross.

“I’m sorry I took her there, sir,” Cross said quietly. You could tell that he felt awful about upsetting my parents.

“Cross, I’m not your father, and I certainly can’t tell you what to do, but you have a lot going for you, son. You have no business spending your evenings over at that place,” he said sternly.

“Dad, you don’t understand. His mom needs him to fight to help her,” I said pleadingly.

“Emerson, this is not something that you can defend. Do you hear me? It’s not safe, and you are not to go there. Now, I can’t tell Cross what to do, but I
can
tell you what to do. You are not to go there again, do you understand me?” he said unrelentingly.

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