Stealing Emma

Chapter 20 - The Heist

Shaking his head, he reached for his wallet and pulled out a metro card he still had from New York with trembling hands. He slid it down through the side of the door, hoping it would at least push the lock. He knew it was stupid, but it was the oldest trick in the book and he was running out of options. He took a deep breath when it didn't give at first, but then he felt a slight click and the door opened almost miraculously before his eyes.

Bingo.

"Emma?" he tried to say with a calm voice as he walked in. It was eerily quiet and it appeared no one was home as he quickly glanced around the tidy apartment. He made his way back towards the bedroom and was instantly relieved when he saw the familiar chocolate brown hair cascading down a pillow.

He quietly sat down beside her and studied her for a moment. She looked so peaceful, deep in slumber. It felt like forever since he had been this close to her even though it had only been less than 24 hours.

"Emma," he whispered as he ran his hand down her sleek shoulder. She didn't even stir.

He brushed her hair back and tried again. "Sweetheart, wake up."

It was only then he noticed her cheek was swollen and an ugly bruise was starting to form around it. What the hell? He shook her more forcefully this time. "Em," he breathed, trying to control his rapidly raising temper as he was already imagining the worst.

She moved slightly then and covered her face with her arm. "Leave me alone, Roy. Please," she murmured.

"Emma, it's me. Are you okay?" he asked, full of concern.

She immediately stiffened and turned to look at him with sleepy, puffy eyes. "Max?"

"Yes, sweetheart. What happened? Why aren't you in school?"

"How did you even...Are you crazy? You shouldn't be here, Max!"

"I was worried about you, Emma. Are you okay?"

"You need to leave now. God, if he finds you here..." she said starting to panic. "What time is it, anyway?"

"He won't. I saw him. He was going to class. It's 9:15am."

"Oh...I," she said and looked away. "You really shouldn't be here anyway. Please leave," she whispered and turned back to presumably sleep.

"Emma, look at me," he said reaching for her arm and turning her around again. He ran his thumb gently over her cheekbone and looked at her sadly. "He hit you, didn't he?"

She stared blankly at him, not saying anything for a while and ended up closing her eyes instead.

"Emma. You know you can tell me, right?"

She just shook her head at him.

"Please, talk to me," he pleaded.

"I'm really tired. Just let me sleep, please," she mumbled.

It was only then that he noticed a medicine bottle with the cap off on the night table next to the bed. He picked it up and saw they were sleeping pills.

"God, Emma," he breathed. "How many did you take?"

Again, she didn't answer. Fuck, this wasn't good. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair contemplating what to do. How bad was it?

He pushed back the covers to inspect her further. He sucked in his breath as he found out she was only wearing a lacy tank and panties, but that only lasted for a moment until he ran his eyes down her body and found that it was purple and blue with bruises.

Oh, no. Had he really done this to her? No, no, no.

He choked back a sob as he looked at her, but it quickly turned into raging anger. He quickly covered her up again, not being able to see her like that. How could someone do something so horrible to that precious body he worshipped like no other? "I'll fucking kill him, I swear to God."