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Let’s see what trouble these two find themselves in at Hughes. Why the fuck Emily would go there, I have no idea. Ella, I get; she doesn’t know how rough that place can be. She also has a rebellious streak. But Emily doesn’t have a rebellious bone in her body; she’s the straight-A student. The kid who was literally friends with everyone and couldn’t stand the thought of someone not liking her. That someone being me. She knows what Hughes Pub is like, the kind of people who choose to hang out there. Why the fuck would she want to go there?
Unless she’s still got it in her head that she needs to leave… No, she can’t. I won’t let her destroy us before we’ve even had a chance to begin.
“Paul, I want your eyes on Emily the whole time. Do not let her out of your sight. Have someone at the front door. I’ll be at the back door behind the pub,” I demand. I’m struggling to contain my anger right now. The thought of losing her again does not sit well with me.
“Sure, boss,” he says as he leaves, already talking into his earpiece.
Heading out to the garage, I jump on my black Ducati Superleggera V4, choosing speed over anything else right now. I want to be able to get to the pub before the girls arrive. I want to see them walk in. And if my suspicions are right, I want to be there at the back door when Emily walks out.
The whole way to the pub, I hope that I’m wrong. I know… hope is a bitch, but I really fucking want to be wrong about this. Can I really keep her here if she doesn’t want to be here? No, I can’t. I know she wants to be here; I know she thinks she’s doing the right thing by wanting to leave.
If only she would tell me what the fuck has her running scared, I’d be able to fucking fix it. We’d be able to move forward. I want more than anything to help her, to give her the future she should have already had.
Pulling in behind the bar, I hide the bike next to a dumpster and wait. About fifteen minutes is all it takes for Ella and Emily to pull up in a fucking town car. How the fuck did Ella manage to get a town car all the way out here? Maybe she’s a little more resourceful than I gave her credit for.
I am a little impressed, that is, until they come into full view and I see what they’re both fucking wearing. Or, more accurately, what they’re not wearing, which would be fucking clothes. My eyes are pinned on Emily; she’s wearing little fucking denim shorts with a white shirt that doesn’t even cover both shoulders. Those damn cowgirl boots she’s wearing are going to look fucking good wrapped around my waist later tonight.
I have to adjust myself in my jeans; just the sight of her has my cock hard as a fucking rock. The thought of every other fucking guy in that bar getting their eyes on her is not sitting well with me.
As much as I want to barge in there and drag her ass back home, I can’t. I need to know if she’s planning to run or not. I need to know if I’m all in, while she’s got one foot out the door. It’s driving me fucking insane, more than I usually fucking am.
After twenty minutes of waiting, that little fucking bitch, hope, makes an appearance again. I know better than to entertain her, but I do anyway, that is, until the back door slams open and shut and out walks a leggy blonde—one I know very well.
I can’t believe she’s doing this. She’s in a fucking back alley. Anything could happen to her out here. Is she that hell-bent on leaving that she’s willing to put herself in danger?
As soon as the door shuts, my hand wraps around her mouth and I’m pushing her up against the brick wall. I’m an asshole, I know, but we’ve also already established this. I let my emotions get the better of me, which is always the fucking case when it comes to Emily.
“Going somewhere, Emmy?” I ask into her ear.
I feel her whole body relax when she notices it’s me who’s got a hold of her. Where most other people would be shitting themselves, she’s thanking the gods that it’s me and not someone else.
She shakes her head no before biting down hard on my hand and stomping on my foot. The shock of her standing up for herself makes me loosen my grip. She doesn’t miss the opportunity to slip out of my grip and turn around. When she does, I’m staring down the barrel of a Glock.
I can’t help but be proud of her right now. She’s taking a stand; she’s showing the fighting spirit that I always knew she had. And I fucking love it.
“What on earth are you smiling at, Josh?” she asks, not moving the gun at all.
“A couple of things really. One, I’m so fucking proud of you right now—you have no idea. Two, you look hot as fuck. And three, if it’s at all possible, I think I might have fallen in love with you even more in the last minute.”
“That’s messed up. You realise I’m the one pointing a gun at you, right? You should be hating me right now. You should want nothing to do with me. You should be moving away, not closer!” she screams.
“Emmy, there is nothing you could possibly do that would make me hate you, ever! I want everything to do with you, and I’m never walking away. You step back, I’m following you.”
“No, Josh, you need to let me go.” Her voice is quiet, her hands shaking a little.
“You’re going to have to shoot me then. Because I’m not letting you fucking leave me, Emmy. Why? Tell me why? Tell me what the hell has you so determined to leave me? I know I can be a little much at times. Okay, all the fucking time. But I love you, Emmy. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen. I’d do anything for you. I want to give you the fucking world at your fingertips. Why is it not good enough?”
“You are enough, Josh. You’ve always been enough. I’m the one who’s not okay. I messed up. I did something bad. I can’t fix what I did. I can make sure that my mess doesn’t get you in trouble though… and that’s what I’m doing. I need to leave to protect you. Because I love you.” Emmy drops the gun to her side, tears streaming down her face.
I wrap my arms around her. I don’t care if she shoots me or not. I’m not fucking letting go. “You know that’s the first time you’ve ever said I love you to me,” I say, my voice hoarse. I feel tears on my own cheeks.
Emmy reaches up and wipes my face with her hands. “You are enough, Josh. Any girl would be blessed as hell to be loved by you. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I can’t give you what you need.”
“All I need is you, Emmy. I don’t need anything else, just you.” I lean down gently, kissing her lips.
“You have me, Josh. You’ve always had me,” she says. I can tell she still thinks she needs to leave.
“Let’s go home.” I’m not taking any chances on her not coming home with me. If she thinks she is staying out here on these streets, I’ll be staying right here with her.
“Okay, take me home, Josh.”
After calling Paul and telling him to drag Ella’s ass home, I tighten my helmet on Emily’s head and sit her in front of me on the bike. I don’t rush home. I want time to just be with Emily without words, just us. That’s what we need, time to be just us without any other outside forces playing against us. I know just the place we can go to do that.
