The Secret Life of Emily Blu

Chapter Thirty

TRIGGER WARNING: SA

Jonas rears back, clutching his nose. Blood is already seeping out between his fingers.

"You bitch!" he screeches. Before I can react, he punches me in the side, knocking the breath out of me. While I'm still incapacitated, he grabs the edge of my shirt and rips it up, exposing my bra. He gropes my breast with one hand, still holding his nose with the other.

My mind flashes back to Marcus and how he used to touch me. I thought I'd forgotten the details - I'd hoped I had - but they come flooding back as Jonas touches me. Nausea sours my mouth, and I have to swallow down the vomit that's rising up my throat.

The difference, though, is that I'm not a scared little girl being abused by her manager anymore. I'm basically an adult, one who's trained with Agent James and Joanne since I've been in their care. They wanted to ensure I felt safe and training me was one of the ways they'd focused on.

I try to calm my racing heartbeat and remember what they had taught me. Jonas takes my sudden realization as an opportunity to adjust himself on top of me. The moment he lifts some of his weight off me, I buck underneath him, throwing him off me and onto the ground. I scramble off the bed, and without thinking, I stomp on his crotch as hard as I can. I hope I've done irreparable damage.

"You cunt!" He screams at me, clutching his groin, tears running down his face.

I kick him in the side once for good measure before I make my way out of the room, shutting it behind me. Hopefully, no one finds him, and he gets no medical attention.

On autopilot I make my way out front and sit on the curb. The sudden rush of adrenaline is already starting to fade, and I have to figure out how to get home before it's completely gone.

I pull out my phone and go through my measly contacts, pausing when I get to Hardy. He'll help me. I know he will. I press call.

"Emily?"

I try to say his name, but the only thing that comes out is a choked sob.

"Oh my God, Emily, what's wrong?"

"Can you come get me?" I gasp. "I'm at Kegan's house."

"I'll be there in ten." He hangs up, and I stare at my phone, at least until tears form and blur my vision.

No one is outside, and I'm still sitting there alone when Hardy pulls up in his purple minivan. He parks in the middle of the street and comes around the car, gathering me up into his arms and gently placing me in the passenger's side seat.

"Can you buckle yourself?" he asks.

I nod, fumbling with the buckle. After a moment, Hardy takes it from me gently and clicks it into place.

He gets back into the car and drives off. I expect him to ask questions, but he doesn't. I'm grateful because my mind is going a mile a minute.

"This is what you were trying to warn me about." It's a statement, not a question.

Hardy's frown deepens. "What, exactly, are you talking about?"

I swallow the bile in my throat. "Jonas tried to rape me."

Hardy's hands turn white on the steering wheel, but other than that, he's a statue. Finally, he says, "Did he hurt you?"

I lift my shirt and stare at the bright purple fistprint on my side. "That's it. He is the one that came out worse."

"That's my girl."

As I stare at Hardy, something clicks in my head. It would explain everything, so it has to be true. "Jonas raped Bethany."

I expect Hardy to remain silent, or to tell me to ask Bethany, but he doesn't. "He did."

I stare at Hardy and try to process what he's saying. "Why didn't you report it?"

Hardy sighs. "Bethany didn't want to. You know how high schoolers are. It wouldn't have ended well for her, and Bethany is many things, but she's not dumb. She knew what would happen if she reported."

"But he raped her!" I splutter.

"I'm not saying I agree with her decision, but I do get it. She's right. It would be awful for her, and she didn't want to do that during our senior year."

"Jonas told me a story and said Bethany was an active participant."

"That's a bald-faced lie. Bethany was drunk and passed out for most of it."

I close my eyes in horror. "Now I feel bad for hating Bethany."

"Don't. I love the girl, but she's a bitch sometimes."

My heart twists at the words, but I don't have time to overanalyze it. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hardy winced at my tone. "Telling you what he did to Bethany has always been Bethany's choice, and she didn't trust you. I confronted him about it and roughed him up a bit and told him he can't do shit like."

"And you believed he wouldn't?" I hiss.

"I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe the kid I used to play superheroes with was still in there somewhere."

Before I can reply, a shiver runs through me, and I know it's only a matter of time until the flashbacks start. I haven't had them in the last month or so, but I know once they start, I'm going to be incapacitated for a while. I'm going into shock.

We pull up in front of a modest house with a broken porch railing. "Where are we?"

"My house. I'm watching my little brother."

I swallow, but I'm not sure I can make it inside. I've started shaking uncontrollably, and I don't know how well my legs are going to support me.

Hardy comes around the van and opens my door, scooping me up into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck automatically.

Before we get to the front door, it swings open, and a seven-year-old stands there, his hands on his hips. "You're not supposed to have girls here."

"It's an emergency, Kyle. Can we come inside?"

I smile weakly at Hardy's little brother, but I'm still shaking uncontrollably, and I fear my smile is more of a grimace.

Kyle notices my shivering and steps aside. "I'll grab a blanket."

"I'm going to put her in my room, Kyle. We have to have a grown-up talk, so after you get us the blanket, can you knock on the door before entering if you need us?"

"Sure," Kyle calls back, running into a different room to get a blanket.

Hardy carries me through his house to his bedroom, where he gently sets me on the bed's edge. Kyle comes sprinting in a moment later, gripping a dinosaur blanket tightly in his fist. "This one's my favorite," he says, wrapping it carefully around me.

"Thank you."

Kyle nods once when the blanket is securely wrapped around my shoulders and then leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hardy crouches in front of me. "You need to tell me what's going on, Emily."

I burst into tears.