Defining You

Chapter 10

Shawn’s POV

He stumbled backwards, his cheek stinging where her hand had slapped him. Her face was crinkled up in hate that just by looking he cringed inwardly. What made his heart drop was that look of pain in her clear blue eyes, this Emile had been someone special to her. That simple thought sent another wave of guilt through his stomach. Memories of that night began to flash across his eyes: a scrawny boy doubled over in pain as two men beat him ruthless before raising a gun and taking his life. The boy’s aquamarine eyes had closed, almost like he accepted the fact he was going to die, and knew that struggling would only make it worst.

Shawn turned, spitting out the bile that had risen up his throat, Emmy stood limp and still against the front door of her house. Her gaunt face told Shawn everything she had left unspoken, she hated him. The truth of that matter hurt him much more than was willing to admit. Bringing up a hand he wiped the lone tear escaping his eyes, quirking his lips into a smirk.

“I am a murder,” his mouth twisted over the words. “Is that what you wanted to hear Emmy?” he said her name softly, afraid that if he said it any louder she would turn her back on him and run inside. He wanted her to run, to tell him how much he had disappointed her, to tell him she never wanted to speak to him in her life.  He wanted to grovel at his knees begging for her forgiveness, to have to sweat blood to earn it.

Her gaze swiftly became calculating, locking on his face. He stared back memorizing the way her lips twitched upward; how her eyes looked beautiful glossed over, and how her tangled locks stuck to the nape of her neck from the rain pouring down. She felt so close, yet he knew she was miles away by the way her gaze became distant. She turned her chin up, squaring her bony shoulders.

“Just answer one question,” her voice came out hoarse, her hand gripping the doorknob tightly. “Was it your fault?”

His mouth went dry; he felt the words stumbling out of his mouth, “No.”

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Emmy’s POV (This is a bonus POV and will be in first person, I wasn’t going to upload it but I got permission to;) ) Enjoy! x

I felt horrible.

 My face had gone numb after being pressed against the glass window of the car. I was heading to another party with Tyler, to drink my guts out and forget the pain. His warm hand was intertwined in mine; his grip was as hard as iron, almost like he expected that I would jump out of the moving vehicle. He knew me too well.

I tapped my fingers lightly on the dashboard, trying to discreetly slither my hand away from his. No deal, he only tightened his grip, flashing me a glare.

“Are we almost there yet?” I croaked, shutting my eyes. They felt so heavy from the lack of sleep these last couple of weeks.

It was the weekend and I was thankful for that, it was becoming too much to see Shawn every corner I turned, life just loved throwing cosmic jokes at me. Like really, having to fall in love with my brother’s killer? Someone in heaven must have it out for me, maybe it was Emile; he always loved giving me a difficult time.

I burst out laughing, earning me a concerned look from Tyler. I had been doing it often now that I knew he was becoming worried.

“I’m going to stop to get some gas,” he told me, making an illegal U turn into the ARCO Gas Station. His car, a flashy black Mercedes, stood out like a nail in toothpicks. Yes, toothpicks.

He jumped out of the car, probably relieved he didn’t have to spend another minute in it with me, but being in his presence was oddly comforting. He didn’t ask questions like B did, and he didn’t talk about Shawn. I winced, bringing my knees closer to my chest.