Withstanding the Enemy

Eight Emma

Emma…

My eyes flicker as I roll over in my bed. My mind is foggy, but I am trying to concentrate on anything but Rick. Anything. Ocean Eyes comes into my mind and I smile! No man could be that perfect, Emma. It’s all a dream. Those Ocean Eyes aren’t real!

My mind spins back to all that has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Slowly, it starts flashing a slide show: the hit to the face, the library, Rick’s proposal, Chance, the kiss.

The kiss…

The proposal… I look down at the huge rock on my finger. OH s**t, that really did happen!

I squeeze my eyes tight, blocking out reality and letting my mind spin.

I hear a roaring of waves echo in my ears—piercing through the blackness. A fog rolls through the corners of my subconscious casting a shadowy silhouette of a muscular frame. I watch the shadowed man turn to face me and my imagination builds, expecting to be greeted with Ocean Eyes, but no. Chance’s chocolate eyes blaze to life as he stares into my soul.

A knock on the door rips me back from the shadows. And I lose the vision of Chance’s warmth.

Like always, I say a little prayer hoping it’s not Rick. Especially after last night’s events.

Can’t I just drift away from reality?

Another knock—louder this time.

“Come in,” I holler at the door reluctantly. I stand and start making the bed.

“You can come in,” I say as I smooth out the last of the wrinkles.

No answer! Odd. Maybe Brutus didn't hear me. I walk around the bed to the door.

Opening it, I don’t see anyone standing on the other side. Instead, there is a large arrangement of roses just outside the door. The roses are different shades of purple, ranging in hues of soft pinkish purples all the way to the deepest rich plum and all shades in-between. I gasp at their beauty. There has to be at least a hundred of them, if not more.

Stepping into the hallway I wonder how I am going to get them into my room. Footsteps echo down the hallway and I turn to see Brutus hurrying in my direction.

“Why, Ms. Andrews! These are just lovely.” His face lights up.

I greet him with a smile and watch as he walks around admiring them.

“Yes, they are!”

“How do you suppose we should get them into your room?” he asks.

“I was just thinking about that. They look heavy and I don't want to drop them.”

“I have an idea. Don't you fret—oh, here is a card,” he says handing me the card.

I take the card from his hand and he nudges me back into my room.

“Now, go get ready and let me handle this.”

I chuckle. “Okay, Okay.”

He shuts the door in my face, and I look down to the dark purple envelope in my hand. My name is written in golden ink with the most beautiful penmanship. Do you want to open it? I think assuming they are from Rick. I’m not sure I can handle anymore from him.

I turn the envelope and tear it open. I pull out a piece of lavender card stock written in the matching penmanship.

To my beautiful enchantress,

From the moment, I laid my eyes on you,

I've fallen.

Your sorcery has deep magnetism,

Making you irresistible to me.

For it is you, I have fallen in love wit;,

I will wait till my last breath for that is the spell I'm under.

~Rick~

My heart skips a beat or two. It’s beautifully written. I never knew Rick was capable of such poetic beauty. It stirs something hot and foreign inside me. I throw the card down. He is a monster and I need to remember that. And I know just the way to do that.

I storm into the bathroom, mad at myself for even authenticating genuine feelings for him. I turn on my shower and let the water warm up. I take my clothes off with shaky hands as I mentally prepare myself for what I am about to do. With all my clothes in a pile at my feet, I think, You can do it—remember the monster that he is.

I turn to face the mirror with my eyes closed. Come on, Emma, you can't forget… One… Two… Three…

I open my eyes to see my full reflection for the first time after being in the hospital. My hands fly to my mouth to silence my cry. A tear slides down my cheek as I examine my torso. Running a hand across the scars, I can feel the crack of his whip as it tore open my skin.

My mind races—I—I can’t feel the scars. The skin under my fingers feels smooth as silk as if the scars weren’t there. I frantically look down to my stomach. I could clearly see them-bright red and raised.

My hands tremble as I glide them over each side of my hips. I force myself to look down at the larger scars laying horizontal across each hip.

Why can’t I feel them?

My right thumb rubs across my birth mark on my upper thigh. Inside the heart shape mark is a scar that mimics my own heart—broken with no hope in repair.

He is a monster!

I grab a towel and dry off. The library is going to be a great distraction, I think as my thoughts wander. I wrap the towel around me and make my way over to the vanity—thankful the mirrors are steamed over.

Absentmindedly, I open the bathroom door and walk toward the closet when I hear voices in my room causing me to freeze mid-step.

“Oh, Ms. Andrews, I thought you were already dressed,” Brutus announces his presence from behind me. I quickly turn around and hug my towel tighter to my naked body.

My eyes lock with Chance’s. Instantaneously, my heart dips low into my belly causing me to stop. I stand frozen watching his eyes run down the length of my body causing heat to catch like wildfire and spread over my chest as it follows the path of his eyes—a slow lazy path down my body. My n*****s tighten as he lingers for a moment. I watch his eyes flame as if he can see right through my towel. The wildfire causes my s*x to throb. I feel needy as his eyes heat with passion. I take a sharp inhale.

Brutus breaks the connection. “Ms Andrews, we will leave immediately,” he says grabbing Chance by the arm and pulling him toward the door. After Brutus pushes Chance out first, he turns again trying to explain.

“I’m sorry again. We were trying to get your flowers into your room.” His voice carries around the door as he makes his exit.

In that moment, I notice the large arrangement setting awkwardly in the middle of my bedroom.

“Okay… Umm … Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

I hurry to the closet and slip on my jeans, bra, and another one of my v-neck shirts. I run my fingers through my hair and walk back into my room to see Brutus standing there waiting for me.

“Ms. Andrews, I am bloody sorry. I should have waited for you.”

I look up to him in shock; I have never heard anything of that nature out of him before.

I clear my throat. “No worries, you just caught me off guard.” I smile at him in hope of easing his discomfort.

“Very good.” He claps his hands together. “I have good news; Master will be gone all day today. He wanted me to inform you that Mr. Fletcher will be your escort for the remainder of the day,” he says a little too upbeat for the old man’s usual tone.

That is when I know he is up to something. I eye him questionably. “What is this all about?”

“I can promise you, Ms Andrews, I’m not hiding anything from you.” His thin lips form a broad smile and color stains his pale skin.

“Well, okay, I guess.” I reply cautiously.

“Thank you! I was also asked to give you this. Mr. Fletcher will explain the rest. He will be waiting in the living room,” he says as he hands me a white envelope addressed to me.

“Oh, thanks.” I reach for the envelope as he turns and picks up the flowers like they weigh nothing and moves them to the corner beside my bed.

My eyes widen and I call out just as Brutus walks out the door. “Wait! Brutus—”

He peeks around the corner with a guilty look and winks before he ducks back out.

Dumbfounded by the old man, I wonder what the hell just happened. I look down to the envelope now in my hand. I find myself yet again opening another envelope. However, this one was not a beautifully written poem. It is another letter from Rick, but this letter explains that Chance will be my personal bodyguard. It also includes a list of what he expects me to do today in the form of a minute by minute outline.

I toss it aside and irritation bubbles inside me.