Emma Chase (20 page)

“Yes, nice and quiet.  Tell Claire to come see me as soon as possible.  I need to fill Murphy’s position.”  I kiss Braden on the forehead,
whirl on my heels, and head for the bedroom to grab my purse.

“You got it. Oh and Em?” 

I stop halfway down the hall and face Jake.

“Thanks again.  This means a lot to me.”

I smile back at him, knowing how important this girl Claire must be to him.  I can’t wait to meet her.

Chapter Twenty

When we arrive at Holt's after my fabulous
birthday dinner at Giovanni’s Trattoria, I am surprised to see that it is dark.  The back door is ajar, but I can’t see anyone.  Great.  It’s my birthday and it’s my night off and chances are I am going to have to put out a fire.  So, not what I need tonight.

Braden parks and unfolds himself from behind the wheel before rounding the hood and coming to my side.  A man who knows the importance of opening doors for a lady.  I like this display of chivalry. 

He opens my door, taking my hand and helping me out of the car.

I lean in towards him, to which he stops and faces me.    I look up at him, his face gets soft as his hand comes up and cups my jaw, using his thumb to circle the apple of my cheek.

Braden brings his face to mine so we are mere inches apart. 

“When I’m finished dealing with Delgado, can you take me away?  Somewhere far away.  Fiji sounds good.  Take me to Fiji, will ya?”

A low chuckle emanates from deep in his chest. “You want Fiji, baby?  You got it,” he responds.

I nod my head affirmatively in response.

He dips his head to mine so that our foreheads are touching. His eyes close as he whispers, “Sounds like a plan.”

I tilt my head back and he touches his lips to mine.  He drops his hand from my jaw and takes my mine, pulling me up the steps to the back entrance.

We make it inside and the whole place is completely dark.  “What the—” I start as the cheering begins.

I still next to Braden, gripping his hand tighter.  He squeezes me back, and that’s when the lights come on and everyone approaches us, singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Jim is carrying a large sheet cake that is lit up, leading my group of friends and coworkers.

“What is…”I mutter but decide to keep quiet as everyone stands before me, finishing their birthday greeting.

I notice a large group of people, all friends and regulars from the bar who have become friends, balloons, streamers, and a huge banner that reads, “Happy Birthday, Emma!”

Everyone is here.  Hugo and Tony, Charlena, Bob, Big Pete, Bobbie and Josh, and Mike and Bernie (who recently became a couple and I couldn’t be more thrilled).  Of course Holly, Olivia, Jim, Tristan, and Jake are here.

Holly and Olivia walk around Jim, throwing their arms around me in an "Emma sandwich."  Holly's words, not mine.  Tristan comes up to me, lifts me in the air, and shakes me like a rag doll.  God, he is strong. He drops me back to my feet and hands me off to Jake, who lifts me into his arms in a bear hug.

“How does it feel to be dirty thirty, sis?”

I push my hands to his chest and narrow my eyes at him.  Jake snaps his head back and roars with laughter.  I’ll deal with him later.

“Emma?” 

I glance over my shoulder and see that Jim is still holding my cake up.

“Blow out the candles so I can put this thing down,” he quips.

I smile at him, make my wish, blow out the candles, and kiss Jim on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Jim smiles as he put
s the cake on the top of the bar.

Braden wraps an arm around my waist, bringing my back against him. I can feel his warm breath on my neck.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says quietly against my skin.  His lips meet my neck, causing a shiver to run through me.

I examine my crowd of loved ones.  They are all part of my family now.  I smile while I
let that sink in.  After all these years, I finally have a family.  It’s not your typical blood-related family.  None of us share blood except for the Holt brothers, Olivia, and Jim, but we are all family.  I don’t know how I went so long without them.

The tears prick the back of my eyes as I watch them all studying me. 

This is all real.  These people care about me.  Hell, these people love me.  I have never had a family, and now I do and it is beautiful.

“Thank you.  I love all of you,” I call out to them.

“Emma needs a beer!” Juice announces, rounding the bar. 

I see that they put out nachos, wings, mozzarella sticks, potato skins, massive amounts of macaroni salad, dips, and plates on the bar. I allow my body to absorb into Braden’s, wrapping my arms over his, which are still at my waist.

Juice offers me a light beer.  I accept it from him and take a sip.

Braden spins me in his arms, I tip my head back to look at him smiling as his lips meet my own. 

When he lifts his head, he whispers, “The most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

God, I love it when he makes my belly feel all squishy. 

He kisses me one last time, short and sweet, giving me a light squeeze, and releases me.

For the next hour, I walk around the party, talking to everyone, making sure that they all get equal attention. 

I drink beer, eat wings, and wipe tables while throwing out empties that lie scattered about the place.  I know it’s supposed to be my birthday party, but I can’t help myself.  Even after several pleas from everyone to “leave it,” and “let someone else take care of that,” I still can’t help it.  Whatever.  It’s my party and I can do whatever the hell I want to.

Chapter Twenty One

I am throwing the trash in the dumpster in the alley out back when my face suddenly hits the metal siding.  I feel the grip on the back of my neck as my head draws back and I find myself pinned against the wall by someone much stronger than I am.

“You have ruined my fucking life, darlin’,” he growls into my ear.

Oh God!  Oh no, no, no, no, no! 

I attempt to stifle back the cry that is trying to fight its way out, and instead I whimper.

“Shut up, you little bitch.”  My face is lifted and slammed into the brick wall nearby.  I let out another cry. “You ruined. My. Fucking. Life!”

I choke back a cry and remain silent. 

I am whirled around and facing my attacker. He has one hand around my neck, the other on the wall next to my head wielding a blade.  Jose Delgado. Shit.

This man is crazy.  I can see the wild in his eyes.  I want to scream but I can’t.  Not with his hand squeezing me and the stinging bile that is threatening its way up my throat.  He isn’t just crazy. He is flat-out insane. 

His eyes shift to the parking lot, back to me, then to the door, and return to me.

He
is in my face, narrowing his eyes.  “I should’ve gutted your sweet little ass when I was finished with it.” 

The tears are making my vision blurry, and I try desperately to swallow down the bile, but it keeps its march up my throat.  Maybe if I throw up he will back away and I can make a run for it.  Something tells me that this man before me would have no problem slitting my throat if I did throw up on him.

I know he is here to kill me tonight.  He is about to go on trial for rape and attempted murder.  There is strong evidence against him. Plus, I can pick him out of a lineup.  I guess he didn’t think that I would ever be bold enough to do it.  Hell, I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Braden.

Before he kills me, he is going to torture me first.  I know it.  Just by the look in his eyes and what he did to me before, I know that he is going to torture me and leave me
for dead—or worse, he’ll leave me alive after he has his way with me so that I can live with it for the rest of my life.

Jose takes his knife and slits my shirt revealing my black lace bra.  I close my eyes and scream before I am lifted and slammed back into the brick wall. It leaves me seeing stars and a bit woozy.

This cannot happen to me again.  I won’t survive this happening to me again.  Seeing this disgusting, vile human being get locked up for life and Braden having my back won’t help me to survive it this time.  I can only hope for death if he succeeds in having his way with me.

He puts his callused hand on my breast and my knees wobble before giving out.  That is all it takes for me to know for a fact now that I won’t survive this.  I either have to get away somehow or let him kill me.  Hell, I will beg him to kill me.

I am not ready to die or become a shell of a woman.  I have too many great things in my life now.  A wonderful man, great friends, and a new, very unconventional kind of family.  My only option is to get the upper hand somehow and escape.

“I’m going to take your ass this time.”  The bile in my throat rises even more and I swallow it down as hard as I can.  The tears spill out of my eyes.  It’s now or never.

I close my eyes and nod my head to Jose.

He growls,
whirling me around to the wall again with his arm hooked around my neck and shoulders putting me in a hold so that I can’t get away.

And that’s when I hear it—the zipper of his pants.  He undoes my top button.

“I’m going to need you to take off your pants, darlin’.”

I shake my head.  “No,” I whisper. 

“Take. Off. Your. Pants. Now,” Jose grits out.

“Go fuck yourself!”

He tightens his hold on me, and that’s when I move.

Solar plexus, instep, nose, and groi
n. Tristan’s voice is chanting in my head. 

I
draw back and nail him with a strong elbow to his side.  I stomp on the instep of his foot with my heel and feel the cracking of his bones beneath it.  Jose cries out.  I spin around, and with a swift upwards movement, I drive my palm right in his nose.  He doubles over, covering his face with his free hand, blood spraying from his now jacked-up nose. 

I shove him repeatedly until he is backed against the dumpster.  He takes one hand and curls it into the collar of my shirt, but I don’t stop fighting. I grab for the arm that is still holding the knife.  He tries to swing it at me, but I snatch his wrist and hold it out, trying to keep the blade from making any contact with me. 

I start screaming.  Ear-piercing screaming.  I scream, I shriek, and I shout.  What I shout is unintelligible.  I am scared and alone, but I am not going to go down without a fight this time.  I am not going to become a victim who didn’t try her hardest to get out of this alive and mostly unharmed.  As long as I don’t let this animal get his filthy hands on me again, I can survive.  I would be able to go on living.

Now please, for the love of God and all things holy, please let someone come out here and help me or call the police.

“Stop screaming, you little bitch!” Jose demands as we both fight for control of the knife.

“Fuck you!” I scream again.

He
backhands me right in the mouth.  I didn’t even see it coming.  I was too focused on the knife when he draws back and clocks me on the cheek.  I know he broke the skin when the warm, wet stream runs down my face.

The pain radiates throughout my face and my head jerks back.  I start to scream again and push him back, keeping a lock on this arm with the knife.  I am going to get my hands on that knife. 

I kick him in the groin.  Game point.

He drops to his knees and rolls onto his side in a fetal position.  I reach down and put my fingers around the knife he dropped when he himself dropped to the ground.

I tuck it into the back of my pants and start to run up the stairs, screaming at the top of my lungs.  I try to open the door.  I wiggle the handle.  Someone must have forgotten to unlock the damn door.

Shit!

Jose catches me by the hair and pulls me down the stairs.  I feel the tear in my scalp from where he is ripping some of my hair out.  Seconds later, I fall hard to the ground, missing the last two steps.  My head bounces off the pavement.

Now
he is straddling me, standing over me.  I am still slightly dazed when he puts his hand into his pants to free his erection.  I can’t stop it. I turn my body and vomit all over his shoe.

He takes his other foot and kicks me in the side, knocking the wind out of me.  It takes all of a few seconds for my brain and body to communicate and work together.  I go into full-on fight mode.

I fight and scream again, the best I can after being winded.  I am pushing and kicking at him.  He lays down, trying to cover my body with his, and I claw at his face, blood streaming down his cheek immediately after I slice his flesh open.  He rears back on his haunches and I follow him.  I pull back and punch him in the face with a jab and immediately follow it with a right hook to the nose. 

His head jerks to the side as he makes a pained grunting noise.  I kic
k him in the head.  There is a sickening thud felt through my boot when that boot makes contact with his head.  His head snaps back again, followed by his body, and he lands on his back on the pavement.

That’s when someone grabs me by the waist and presses me to their chest. “Hey! We’re here.  You’re safe,” Jake whispers into my ear.  My entire body goes from tense to relaxed.  Too relaxed.  I practically sink into his arms.  I begin to shake.  He tightens his arms around me, holding me close so that I can take in the warmth of his body.

Braden straddles Jose, wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing.  Jose’s eyes bulge as he claws at Braden’s hands.

“You piece of shit!  You motherfucking piece of shit!  I’m going to kill you, so help me God!”

Braden leans into Jose, putting all of his weight into the death grip he has on him.  Jose’s body bucks and jerks and the color of his face is becoming a purplish red.

Tristan lifts Braden off and holds him back. 

Jose clutches his throat and starts taking in deep breaths.

The sirens are getting closer
.  Tristan calms Braden and releases him while he restrains my rapist/attempted murderer/victim of Holt self-defense 101.

Braden comes to me and pulls me to his chest with a hand behind my head.  Jake walks to the paramedic unit that is pulling in, which is followed by two police cruisers.

Tristan releases Jose and cops approach with guns drawn, all pointed at the man on the ground, who is still recovering.

The blond officer tucks his gun into his holster while the others keep their aim. He flips Jose over and crouches down on his knee, pulling a pair of handcuffs off the holster and yanking Jose's hands behind his back before cuffing them.

I can’t stop shaking.  Jake walks a paramedic to me and explains to him what just went down.  I let him look me over but I can’t let go of Braden.  He knows this and holds my hand.

A cut right below my eye is taped up, and I have a gash on my lip.  No concussions this time, no broken ribs or dislocations.  I have a clean bill of health.  The paramedic suggests that I visit the hospital to be checked by a doctor, but I am good.  I just want to go home and crawl into bed with my man.

Braden brings me into his side, kissing the top of my head.  I am now trembling and crying.  He holds me tight and lets me get it all out.