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“You’re fucking paranoid!” I laugh with a shriek. “I was on my way home! And what do you mean he just left a few minutes ago? Were you stalking him?”
“No, I wasn’t stalking him,” he gapes defensively. “I was only trying to make sure you were safe.”
“Safe from what? Malcolm has never hurt me in anyway whatsoever, which is more than I can say for…” I stop myself but it’s too late. We both know exactly how that sentence ends as it hangs heavy between us.
Every muscle in his neck tightens and bulges as his hands ring around the steering wheel, making the leather creak. His foot slams to the gas as the engine revs in a loud whirring sound, sending us speeding off down the road.
“Slow down!” I demand, but he ignores me. “If you were so worried about Malcolm and I talking, why didn’t you just come over and talk to us like a normal person!? You had no problem hanging all over me for everyone else to see earlier in the day.”
“And yet that still didn’t stop you from running off with him,” he scoffs. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other.”
“This is ridiculous, Emmett.” I shake my head, feeling completely flustered. “We weren’t looking at each other in any way other than friends having a nice conversation.”
“Nice!?” he bellows.
I feel a small tinge of guilt knowing that the conversation did seem to get a little flirtatious, but I can’t let that show. I’m too afraid of how Emmett will lose it if I let on that he could actually have something to worry about with Malcolm.
“You’re being ridiculous! Why are you making me go off with you like this!? We could have had this talk back in the parking lot.” I grip my seatbelt as the car drives even faster down the winding roads leading to the edge of town.
I can’t stop the memories of our car crash from flooding my brain. I try to focus on my breathing and calm down. We kissed in the hospital after that. Maybe we can skip the crash this time and go straight to the kissing part, but not if he doesn’t slow down.
“I just…I need…” he stammers through his words, which only makes him angrier. “I just need to be away with you somewhere for a minute.”
“You just need to feel in control of me,” I suggest once again, feeling even more confident in my conclusion. “You’re overreacting.”
He’s silent the rest of the way until the car finally skids around a twitching neon sign for a run-down motel outside town. I look out my window as we park, noting the “rent by the hour” sign and the dirty, painted brick building. The windows to the rooms are cloudy and dark with broken blinds.
“I would have expected you to be staying somewhere nicer,” I admonish as Emmett storms over to my car door to let me out, ensuring I don’t try to run off.
“I want to lay low until I know exactly what happened with Bernadette,” he explains as he ushers me to the front door of his room. “I could be in danger, too, for all I know.”
As we step inside, I feel oddly calm. I don’t know if I am not afraid because I see Emmett as less of a threat now, even though he didn’t give me much of a choice in coming here with him, or if I am less afraid because I have become so used to this kind of treatment from him.
I want to remind him that this is exactly why I wanted space from him the first place. Because I deserve better than this. I can’t help but wonder if Malcolm would ever do anything like this. Sure, he messaged me to meet him alone and took me to meet with his father inconspicuously, but even then, he never made me feel afraid.
Emmett slides several different locks into place once we are inside the room. It’s filled with mismatched furniture and peeling wallpaper that reveals moldy, stained walls. The room is dimly lit behind the musty curtains, lightened in color from years of sunlight.
I collapse onto the edge of the squeaky bed, waiting to see what he’ll do next as a faucet drips loudly in the bathroom. There are angry voices and crying children echoing through the thin walls with loud, obnoxious dogs barking in the parking lot. It smells like piss and stale cigarette smoke.
“It’s disgusting in here,” I comment, noting the mouse droppings lining the closet floor.
“It’s cheap,” he states plainly. “And far enough away from Jameson that I don’t have to worry about someone telling the wrong people where I’ve checked in.”
“So…still no word from your sister?” I ask lightly, pursing my lips to the side as I grasp for any change of subject. I secretly wonder if he’s being just as paranoid about his sister and someone being after him as he is with his jealousy.
“You don’t think I have a right to be upset about Malcolm!?” he barks back, ignoring my question.
“Not if I didn’t have a right to be upset about you and Vivian,” I reply bitterly.
“So, you were just trying to get back at me?” He shakes his head as he continues manically pacing.
“No!” I groan, rolling my hands through my hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, Emmett! You humiliated me in front of Vivian and Lily so I took a walk! When I sat down, Malcolm came up and offered me some food. I left my lunch when I ran after you, remember? So, I accepted. We talked while we ate. That’s it!”
It’s exhausting to have to defend myself and watch him act this way, but I feel a slight flutter of satisfaction in my chest at seeing him so jealous. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but after letting Vivian treat me that way earlier, it’s hard not to feel like he got what was coming to him.
His dark brown eyes are glinting with pain and confusion as sweat beads across his forehead. So many things are bubbling up under the surface, and I am left waiting at his mercy, wondering when and how it will all come out. Emmett releases things in slow, furious waves, each completely unpredictable. He lets it all bubble up until it crashes out, usually crashing out onto me.
I wonder what he and Vivian were like alone when they were together. Could she get to him this way? Did he care enough about her to be this jealous? She has certainly always been jealous of me. I technically stole him away from her in a weird way. Do I deserve to be torment
