Grayson Lockhart
As Emery's figure dwindled in the distance, her form disappearing into the sanctuary of my car, a mixture of relief and concern washed over me. Yet, my attention quickly shifted to Justin, still sprawled on the ground.
I replayed the scene in my mind, the sickening sight of Justin's brutish treatment of Emery seared into my consciousness. Watching her struggle against his grip, her necklace ripped away from her and thrown into the lake, filled me with a burning rage unlike anything I had ever felt before. I was grateful that I arrived back just in time. From the confines of my car, I had witnessed everything as I drew nearer. I knew Emery needed me, and I couldn't leave her like she told me to.
How could he do something so heartless, so cruel?
I watched as Justin's bruised and bloodshot eyes met mine, a faint glimmer of defiance flickering within them. But it was quickly extinguished by the satisfaction I felt at seeing him suffer.
He deserved every ounce of pain he was experiencing, and more.
Then, in a pathetic attempt to regain control, he called out after Emery, his voice tinged with desperation and longing.
"Baby!" he yelled, the word dripping with possessiveness and entitlement, and it made my blood boil.
As he stood up and made his way toward her, pushing me aside in his path, I knew I couldn't stand idly by. Without a moment's hesitation, I acted. My fist connected with his jaw with a resounding crack, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night like thunder.
Justin's body crumpled under the force of the blow, his breath escaping him in ragged gasps.
He didn't have the right to call her that anymore. I refused to let him. The memories of yesterday flooded my mind – the party where he callously abandoned her, leaving her alone and vulnerable, intoxicated and wandering the streets. The mere thought of it filled me with an overwhelming urge to seek vengeance.
I had entertained thoughts of confronting Justin at the party, of hurting him for doing that shit, but in the end, I had chosen to let it slide, for Emery.
But today, witnessing him grab her and refuse to let go, then callously discarding the one precious memento Amelia left her before passing away – her necklace – it was too much to bear.
And now, with Justin lying at my feet, I struggled to contain the boiling rage within me.
The night air hung heavy with tension as Justin glared up at me, his expression a mixture of defiance and wounded pride. Despite the darkness surrounding us, I could sense the flicker of fear lurking beneath his bravado.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" he demanded, his tone laced with accusation.
I met his gaze head-on, my own resolve unwavering. "I'm here to tell you to stay away from her" I stated firmly, each word ringing with conviction.
A derisive scoff escaped Justin's lips, a smirk playing across his features. "And if I don't, what are you gonna do about it?" he taunted, arrogance dripping from his voice like poison. "You can't stop me"
The flames of anger burned within me, every fiber of my being screaming for retribution. But I suppressed them, knowing I had to keep control. Emery's presence nearby served as a stark reminder of the need for restraint.
Not here. Not now.
With a swift, purposeful step forward, I closed the gap between us, my hand shooting out to seize him by the neck with an iron grip, pulling him upright to stand before me.
Justin's cocky demeanor faltered as my fingers tightened around his throat "Try me, and you'll find out just how serious I am." I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Gasping for breath, Justin's eyes widened in fear, his hands futilely clawing at mine, attempting to pry my fingers away from his constricted windpipe. "Let... go" he choked out, his voice strained and desperate, the panic evident in his eyes as he struggled for air.
I shouldn't let go.
The memory of Emery's tear-streaked face, her trembling voice, fueled the fire within me, driving me to maintain my hold, to make him understand the gravity of his actions.
But as I glanced towards my car where I knew Emery waited, I hesitated.
I couldn't subject her to that darkness, couldn't let her see the depths to which I was capable of descending in defense of her honor. She deserved better than to witness such brutality, to be burdened with the weight of my rage.
"You're lucky she's nearby, or you'd be dead by now," I growled through clenched teeth, my grip on his neck loosening as I pushed him away. His gasps for air were like music to my ears, a testament to the power I held over him in that moment.
But Justin, always defiant, met my glare with a twisted smirk. "You want her, huh? Is that what all this is about?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "She belongs to me. And you? Pathetic for even entertaining the thought that you could win her over. You're nothing."
He wanted to hurt me. And for a moment, he succeeded.
The words cut through me like a knife, igniting a firestorm of rage within me. Without a second thought, I lashed out, delivering another punishing blow to his already battered face. The sound of my fist connecting with his flesh echoed through the night, a grim reminder of the violence that lurked just beneath the surface.
"You don't deserve her" I spat back, my voice dripping with disdain.
As Justin lunged towards me, his fists clenched in a futile attempt to retaliate, I swiftly dodged his attack, delivering another powerful blow.
He crumpled to the ground, defeated and powerless against my resolve. My fingers tightened around his collar, a surge of satisfaction coursing through me at the sight of him cowering before me.
"Start looking" I commanded, my voice cold and commanding
"What—" Justin began, but his words were cut off.
With a swift and decisive motion, I cast him into the darkness of the lake, the frigid waters enveloping him in their icy embrace with a resounding splash. The sound echoed through the night, a chilling testament to the severity of our confrontation.
He had thrown Emery's necklace with callous disregard, knowing full well its significance to her. In response, I had thrown him into the cold embrace of the lake, wanting him to feel the same sense of loss and helplessness.
As Justin resurfaced, his fury unabated, I turned away without a backward glance, making my way to the car where Emery waited.
"You'll regret this, Grayson!" His voice echoed across the water
My fist clenched instinctively, the urge to go back and finish what I started almost overwhelming.
With a heavy heart, I resisted the impulse, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
As I eased into the driver's seat, the weight of the night's events settling heavily upon my shoulders, I couldn't help but steal a momentary glance at Emery. Her tear-stained cheeks and trembling form tore at my heart, a stark reminder of the pain she had endured at Justin's hands.
Without hesitation, I reached out to her, my touch gentle as I carefully removed her hands from her face, which she had buried in sorrow.
"Hey, hey" I murmured softly, my voice a soothing balm amidst the turmoil. "It's going to be okay."
Her tear-filled eyes met mine, her expression raw with emotion. "Can we please go?" she pleaded, her voice quivering with desperation.
A surge of protectiveness washed over me as I took in her fragile state, a fierce determination rising within me to shield her from any further harm. "Of course," I reassured her, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within me. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, I started the engine.
Why didn't I kill him?
.•.•.•.•.
As I parked the car in front of Emery's house, I couldn't help but notice the hesitation in her demeanor as she gazed at the familiar sight of her home.
The presence of her father's car in the driveway added an extra layer of tension to the already fraught situation. I could sense her reluctance to face him in the state she was in.
Unable to bear the thought of leaving her alone, I found myself blurting out an offer without thinking. "Emery" I began, still holding her hand tightly.
I never let go of her hand while driving. And I could tell she didn't want to either "Do you want to stay at my place...?"
I immediately regretted the words as soon as they left my lips, the implications of my offer hitting me like a tidal wave of uncertainty and vulnerability.
What was I thinking?
Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at me, her gaze searching mine for any hint of hesitation or regret. In that fleeting moment, I held my breath, waiting for her response, the pounding of my heart drowning out all other noise.
To my surprise and relief, she nodded her head in agreement, a small but significant gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
I drove us to my house, which was located next to hers. Parking the car in the driveway, I swiftly made my way to her side and extended a helping hand, assisting her out of the vehicle with care and consideration.
As I noticed her bare feet, a pang of empathy pierced through my heart, memories of the previous night flooding my mind. I recalled how she had resisted putting on her shoes while inebriated, This time, however, she was sober but visibly distressed.
"Where are your shoes?" I asked.
She looked down at her feet, a rueful chuckle escaping her lips. "Oh, I kicked them off to chase Justin.." she explained.
The memories of witnessing her valiant effort to stop Justin from discarding her necklace into the lake resurfaced, igniting a surge of anger within me...
"Piggyride?" she suddenly suggested, her eyes meeting mine with a hopeful glint.
Her request caught me off guard, stirring a bittersweet nostalgia within me. Piggyrides had been our thing when we were best friends, a simple joy that brought laughter and happiness amidst the challenges of growing up.
She chuckled softly, as if dismissing the idea before I could respond.
However, her laughter couldn't mask the longing in her eyes, the unspoken plea for a moment of levity amidst the turmoil of the night. And in that moment, I found myself unable to resist. "Come on," I replied, turning around so she could hop on
With a small smile, she complied, her legs wrapping around me as I lifted her up and closed the passenger door behind her.
As I carried Emery towards my home, her warmth pressed against me, every step was a reminder of how close she was, how intimately she fit against my body. Her skin, soft against mine, sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire within me that I struggled to contain.
It was killing me, having her this close, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she clung to me.
I knew I was breaking all of my promises to stay away from her. I knew the risks, the consequences of allowing myself to succumb to the pull of her presence once more. But as I felt her warmth enveloping me, her breath stirring against my neck, I realized that I couldn't bear to leave her again.
As we stepped inside, I gently set her down, allowing her to take in the familiar surroundings of my home. The walls were painted a crisp white, a renovation we had undertaken together two years ago, breathing new life into the space. It was a cozy two-story house, with large windows that flooded the rooms with natural light during the day.
But I could see that her gaze wasn't fixed on the freshly painted walls or the cozy furnishings. Instead, her eyes drifted towards the wall adorned with photographs.
Among them were pictures of me and my mom, smiling and laughing, our bond evident in every frame. But conspicuously absent was any trace of my dad. Once, his photographs had adorned that very wall, but not anymore.
As Emery's gaze lingered on the empty spaces where his photographs had once hung, a pang of sorrow tugged at my heart.
Four years ago, my parents had gone through a painful divorce. The memories of that tumultuous time still haunted me, the echoes of their arguments and the shattered dreams of a happy family reverberating in my mind. My dad had ultimately decided to move back to New York, leaving behind the life we had built together n Gracefield.
He had urged me to come with him, promising a fresh start. But despite my love for the vibrant energy of New York, I couldn't bring myself to leave behind a certain redhead.
As I cleared my throat, my eyes locked with hers, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
"Oh... here" She began to take off my coat, revealing the delicate blue dress that hugged her figure so perfectly. My heart raced as I accepted the coat from her, her gaze never wavering from mine.
"I keep stealing this coat from you," she remarked with a small smile, her words tinged with a hint of playfulness that warmed my heart.
She looked down at her feet, her hair falling gently from behind her ear, and in that moment, I couldn't fight the overwhelming urge any longer. With a gentle touch, I reached out to fix her hair behind her ear, our eyes meeting as she looked up at me. "It looks better on you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper, my hand still lingering on her face.
She froze, her eyes locked with mine, and I felt my heart race even faster, the depth of emotion reflected in her eyes holding me captive. In that fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world falling away until there was only the two of us, connected by an invisible thread of shared history and unspoken understanding.
But as much as I longed to stay lost in that moment, I knew I couldn't allow myself to get any closer. Breaking the spell, I finally found my voice. "Let me take you to the guest room," I said, stepping back, my heart heavy with regret as I forced myself to create distance between us.
She shook her head slightly, her forced smile betraying the turmoil beneath the surface as she nodded in agreement. As I guided her to the guest room, I mentally kicked myself.
We entered the room and Soft, muted colors adorned the walls, complemented by plush furnishings that exuded an air of comfort and tranquility.
"I'll grab you some clothes so you can change" I offered. I fought the urge to linger on her, to admire the way the dress draped elegantly over her figure. It was a struggle to keep my gaze averted.
"Thank you" she said, her voice tinged with gratitude as she glanced around the room. she had been here before, back when we were best friends, before everything changed.
But now, the room looked different. My mom had changed it, along with the rest of the house, after my dad left following the divorce. It was as if she thought that by rearranging the furniture and painting the walls, she could erase the painful memories of my dad's departure.
I watched as she reached for her necklace, her fingers instinctively searching for the familiar pendant that had become a symbol of comfort and solace. But as her hand came up empty, a flicker of realization crossed her features, the truth dawning on her with painful clarity.
She didn't have to worry about that, I silently vowed, a surge of determination coursing through me. I would fix this. I would make it right.
"I'll be right back," I promised, my voice strained as I turned to leave.
"Grayson?"
Her voice halted me in my tracks "Yeah?"
She hesitated, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air. "Are we..." she trailed off, clearing her throat before continuing, "friends again?" Her words hung between us, pregnant with unspoken longing and uncertainty.
My heart clenched at her question, knowing the depth of her desire for reconciliation, yet also aware of the promises I had made to someone.
We couldn't simply revert back to being friends, not after the pain and betrayal. But the vulnerability in her eyes, the raw emotion etched into every line of her expression, tugged at the frayed edges of my resolve.
I couldn't bring myself to respond, the weight of my silence heavy with the weight of my unspoken truth. To offer false hope would be a cruel kindness, a temporary salve that would ultimately deepen the wounds we both carried.
Her disappointment was palpable, a tangible presence in the room as she hugged herself tightly, a silent shield against the pain of rejection. "Got it," she murmured softly, forcing a smile.
I wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into my arms and promise her that everything would be okay. But I couldn't. I couldn't risk breaking my promise, couldn't bear the thought of causing her more pain.
Closing the door behind me, I retreated to the sanctuary of my room, the weight of my guilt threatening to suffocate me. Every breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the betrayal I had brought upon Emery.
I had broken every promise I had made. I shouldn't have agreed to tutor her, shouldn't have allowed her to stay here, shouldn't have let myself get close to her again. But despite my best intentions, I couldn't deny the overwhelming love I felt for her, a love that defied explanation.
Every breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the betrayal I had brought upon Emery and she doesn't even know.
I sought refuge in the dimly lit confines of my room, seeking solace in the silence that enveloped me. Even in the quietude, the echoes of my guilt reverberated through the empty spaces, a relentless reminder of the pain I had inflicted upon her.
But even as I wrestled with the remorse that consumed me, another emotion waged war within my heart – love. Despite the pain I had inflicted upon her, I couldn't deny the overwhelming desire to be near her, to feel her presence beside me, to bask in the warmth of her smile.
The thought of leaving Gracefield, of putting distance between us, was unfathomable to me. For as much as my guilt tormented me, the prospect of being apart from her was even more unbearable. It was her presence that anchored me to this place, her essence that filled the empty spaces of my soul. I love her, with a depth and intensity that defied explanation.
As I rose from my bed, the weight of my emotions still heavy upon my shoulders, I made my way to the closet to retrieve some clothes for Emery.
I selected a soft, oversized T-shirt that I knew would engulf her, a pair of boxer shorts and some socks, knowing that she preferred to sleep with her feet covered.
But as I held the clothes in my hands, a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm me. Tears welled up in my eyes, a silent testament to the depth of my turmoil and the weight of my unspoken love for her.
This is killing me.