Secrets and Silhouettes

Sleepover at Emmer’s

I struggled to focus, my mind reeling as I watched my curtains flutter in the wind. "How is this possible?" I muttered to myself, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Psych did not deem me a danger to myself, and the hospital can't keep you there if you want to leave. And I didn't want to be there, I wanted to speak to you," Allen's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"No!" I yelled, my voice trembling with fear and anger. I reached for my phone, desperate to call for help, but I could only press the dial button twice, then Allen grabbed me.

My phone slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor as I began to scream for help. Within moments, my bedroom door flew open, and my dad rushed in. He grappled with Allen, trying to restrain him and protect me from harm.

Tears streamed down my face as I continued to yell, "No, Allen, leave my dad alone! Please, just leave!" My mom was on the phone with the police, desperately trying to get help as quickly as possible. But before they arrived, the situation escalated.

Allen stepped back, pushing my dad against the wall with a force that made him collapse to the floor. "No!!" I screamed, feeling helpless and terrified as Allen's gaze turned menacing.

With a sense of dread, I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear witnessing what might happen next. Then, I heard a loud bang followed by a dull thud. When I opened my eyes, Allen was lying motionless on the floor.

Mom stood behind him, her expression one of shock and disbelief. "I didn't think that would work," she muttered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

She lowered the frying pan, its clatter on the floor echoing in the tense silence of the room. The sound of approaching sirens filled the air, a stark reminder of the chaos that had erupted.

Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Emmet's voice pierced through the turmoil. "Angel, where are you?" he called out urgently.

"I'm upstairs, third door on your left!" I shouted back, my voice trembling with fear and anxiety. The footsteps grew louder, closer, until Emmet appeared in my doorway, his presence bringing a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos.

"Em," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "Check on my dad, please?" I felt a sense of dread, afraid of what might happen if Allen regained consciousness.

Without hesitation, Emmet rushed to my dad's side, helping him up as my mom rushed over, concern etched on her face. "We're going to wait outside for the police," she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

Please can you bring Ali down?”

Emmet nodded in response to Mom's request, gently scooping me up into his arms in a bridal carry. With steady steps, he navigated us downstairs and into the kitchen, where he carefully seated me on a chair. Despite the chaos that had unfolded, his presence brought a sense of calm.

As I sat there, still hyper-alert, Emmet moved around the kitchen with purpose. He opened cupboards, located the mugs, and began preparing some coffee, his movements deliberate yet comforting in their familiarity.

Meanwhile, Mom escorted the two police officers upstairs to my room, their voices murmuring in the background as they assessed the situation. The scent of brewing coffee filled the air, a small semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos that had descended upon our home.

Mom entered the kitchen with a faint smile, her eyes flickering with a mixture of relief and concern. "Oh, he does know you well," she remarked to me, nodding toward Emmet.

I managed a weak smile in response, attempting to lighten the mood with a touch of humor. "Mom, coffee fixes most things," I quipped, gesturing toward the coffee pot.

Turning to Emmet, I couldn't help but voice my curiosity. "Emmet, how did you know something was wrong?" I inquired, my voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment.

Emmet paused for a moment, his gaze meeting mine with a reassuring warmth. "When my phone rang, I just had a feeling something was off," he explained calmly. "And when you didn't respond to me and I heard the commotion in the background, I knew I had to get here as fast as I could."

His simple explanation filled me with a sense of reassurance, reminding me of his unwavering support and quick thinking in times of need.

The officer's announcement sent a shiver down my spine, reminding us all of the lingering threat that Allen posed. Mom's expression reflected her deep concern, and I could sense her reluctance to leave me alone even for a moment.

"Honey, you'll have to sleep in the guest bedroom until your window is replaced and he's caught," Mom said, her voice laden with worry.

Emmet interjected, his tone firm yet reassuring. "You could always stay with me. Emily is on a school trip; she won't be back until next week. You could stay in her bedroom." I turned to Mom, seeking her approval. "Mom," she asked, her concern evident in her eyes. “Will she be safe?”

"Yes, Mam," Emmet responded promptly, his voice steady and confident. "My windows are almost bulletproof, and I know something about self-defense. But most importantly, he doesn't know where I stay."

Emmet's assurances helped alleviate some of Mom's worries, and with a nod from her, I felt a sense of relief knowing that I would be safe under his roof. Mom's stern tone left no room for argument as she instructed me to pack my bag. Her concern for my safety was palpable, and I knew she was only trying to protect me. “Okay, fine.” She said to me.

"And for you, Emmet," Mom continued, her voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, "thank you for keeping her safe. But if she comes back pregnant, bulletproof windows will not be enough to save your ass."

Emmet nearly choked on his coffee, caught off guard by Mom's unexpected comment. "Mom, we're just friends. God," I exclaimed, his cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. Despite the tension in the air, Mom's remark elicited a brief moment of lightheartedness, reminding us all of the importance of humor even in the face of adversity.

As I make my way downstairs, I hear Mom and Emmet laughing together, their easy camaraderie bringing a smile to my face. It warms my heart to see them getting along so well. "Ready?" I ask Emmet once I reach the bottom of the stairs.

"Sure, let me just put my cup away," he replies, walking over to the dishwasher to tidy up. I embrace Mom tightly, grateful for her support and understanding. "Thanks, Mom, and sorry again about the mess," I say apologetically.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Just focus on staying safe," she reassures me, giving me one last hug before we head out the door. "Wow," I exclaim as we step outside. "You have a car."

Emmet grins in response. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he teases, holding the door open for me to climb into the car.

As Emmet walks around the car, his confident stride exudes a captivating allure. With a smooth motion, he opens his door and settles into the driver's seat.

"I come with 19 years worth of baggage," he begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. "I don’t have a mansion or a fancy car. I only have Emily and," he pauses, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "now you."

His words hang in the air, carrying the weight of his past and the promise of his present, as we embark on this journey together. As I gaze at him, a playful smirk tugs at my lips. "What?" he asks, a curious glint in his eyes.

"I'm just admiring how ridiculously sexy my friend is," I reply with a chuckle. "Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have you as a friend?"

Our laughter fills the car, a lightness settling over us despite the weight of recent events. In that moment, amidst the shared laughter, I'm grateful for his presence and the simple joy of companionship.

"But seriously," I continue with a playful grin, "do you have a friend who kidnaps you, attacks you at the hospital, and then shows up to attack you in your own bedroom?"

Emmet's laughter fills the car, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "When you put it like that," he responds with a grin, "my 19 years' worth of baggage doesn't look too bad."

We share a moment of lightheartedness, finding humor even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. It's a testament to our bond, a bond that remains steadfast despite the challenges we've faced together.

As we pull into his driveway, I can't shake the thought that's been lingering in my mind. "Side note," I interject, turning to Emmet, "do you ever think my friend could be more than just a friend?"