Max waited anxiously for her to arrive to the classroom. The last twenty-four hours had been absolute hell and he just needed to see her.
He could still feel the taste of her incredibly soft skin, and that look of absolute pleasure as she came apart in his arms was now permanently embedded in his brain. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. He knew he could never be the same man after that.
He had replayed the nightmare that ensued afterwards countless times, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, trying to understand how that had even happened. He had said so many things in the heat of the moment that weren't even remotely true and he couldn't even blame her for hating him. He stared blankly at her empty seat as the knot in his stomach grew bigger and bigger.
He hadn't realized it until then, but he actually found a tremendous amount of comfort in seeing her sitting there every day. Even if it was just the back of her pretty little head, he would get easily lost in the way she played with her hair when she was nervous, only imagining it was him running his fingers through those silky strands. Or the look on her face when she was trying to concentrate or found a lecture amusing. Even the way she absently played with her pen and doodled in her notebook was fucking adorable.
It didn't matter that she would never be his - she had made that crystal clear, but simply seeing her cute butt planted in the second chair of the third row five days a week made him happy because he knew she was okay.
Not today though.
He glanced at the clock on the wall seeing class was about to start in two minutes. Surely she should be here by now. She was always one of the first people in and she never skipped.
He was still staring at the seconds tick by on the clock when he saw movement in the hallway. Starting to feel relieved, his breath caught in his throat when he saw it wasn't her, but him.
Roy was walking casually by to his classroom, but there was something in his expression that made his heart stop. His eyes were stone cold but when he turned to look at him, a ghost of a smirk appeared on his face and it was directed solely at him. Like he was holding a big fucking secret only he knew and was dying to tell.
Max quickly looked away, trying to shrug it off, but he immediately knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.
Oh God. Emma.
He looked at the clock again and he could see they were now approaching the top of the hour. The ticks of the seconds got louder and louder in his ear until it felt like it was pounding inside him. His breathing turned ragged as the professor turned to start his presentation of the day. It was now or never. With ten seconds left to go on the clock, he lunged for his bag, all but tripping over it, and ran the hell out of there.
By the time he arrived at Emma's apartment building, he was sure he had committed at least ten different traffic violations and was on the verge of losing his damn mind. He had promised he wouldn't contact her anymore, but that promise was all going to hell at the moment. He had already called her numerous times on the way over, all of his calls ending up going to voicemail.
Double parking his car on the sidewalk, he ran into her building and sped past the doorman as if it was his own home. He headed straight to the mailroom, frantically searching the names on the mailboxes until he came across 'Samson 3F'. He hated seeing that name and that Emma was attached to it – to him. Tossing the nauseating thought aside, he bolted down the hallway and ran up the stairs to her apartment.
He rang the doorbell, pounded on the door and yelled for her all simultaneously, but somehow he knew that wouldn't work. How the hell was he going to get inside? Knock the damn door down gung ho style? Maybe he could try for the neighbor?
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."
He grabbed her arms and pulled her up in a sitting position to face him. "Emma, you have to wake up now," he said lifting up her chin. "Baby, open your eyes for me."
Her eyes fluttered momentarily and her vision was out of focus.
"How many pills did you take, Emma?"
"I don't know. Not too many," she said shrugging.
"Give me a damn number," he commanded.
"I don't remember. Three or four, I think. Relax okay? I'm fine."
"You want me to fucking relax? Have you even seen yourself? Jesus Christ, Emma!"
"I'm okay, Max. Stop yelling. You're overreacting," she said calmly.
Was she delusional? He couldn't believe what he was hearing from her. Wanting to bring her to reality, he asked the one question he was dreading since the beginning.
"Did he force himself on you?"
She took a deep breath at the question. Finally, some type of reaction. "No," she whispered.
"Don't lie to me, Emma. I'll take you to the fucking hospital right now if I have to."
"He didn't. He wanted to...I didn't let him."
"So he beat the shit out of you instead? You're not his fucking property, Emma. He can't do this to you. You don't deserve this...any of this. Do you understand?"
"Yes...I get it, Max."
"No, you don't. What's going to happen next time, huh?"
"It won't."
"God, Emma. I won't let you do this to yourself." He made the decision right there and then. "There won't be a next time. This ends right now."
"What?" her voice trailed off, but he was already storming into the living room. Heading towards a closet near the entryway, he quickly spotted some suitcases inside. He yanked two of them out and headed back towards the bedroom.
"What are you doing?" she asked alarmed.
Not stopping to answer her, he opened one of the doors to the closet and started taking out her clothes and dumping it into one of the suitcases.
"Max, are you insane?"
"No...you are. If you won't make the decision, then I'm making it for you," he said as he went through her drawers.
"There's no way I can just up and leave, Max."
He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. "Are you on the lease?"
"No, I..."
"Then all you have to do is walk out that door. It's that simple," he interrupted.
She crossed her arms in response, and he continued to make work of her closet, giving her time to process the information. He finished one suitcase pretty quickly and opened the other. He threw some sweatpants and a t-shirt at her. "Put these on. We're leaving soon."
He went into the bathroom and poured all the toiletries he determined were hers into a plastic bag, and then went into the living room to see if there was anything else. There wasn't much except a few picture frames of them together, which he flipped over in anger. Definitely not taking those. He would burn them if he had the time.
He went back to the bedroom and put the last of her things away, mainly coats and shoes. He was amazed how little time it took him to get all her belongings – she didn't have many things after all.
He turned to look at her and she was just sitting there in shocked silence and she still hadn't even dressed. It didn't matter though; he would take her out of there naked if he had to.
"Is there anything else I should pack?"
She shook her head again at him and looked determined not to leave. Sighing, he went to sit next to her and cupped her face. "I need you to focus, Emma. This is the last time you're setting foot in this flat. Am I missing anything? We're not coming back, baby."
She looked at him in bewilderment, as if determining whether he was serious about the whole thing. Did she really think he would joke about something like this? Her suitcases were already packed for crying out loud.
"Em, please don't make this anymore difficult. I'll drag you out if I have to. Just please, we need to go. We're running out of time."
"This isn't going to work, Max. He'll know I went with you, and he's just gonna come looking for me and bring me back here."
"That's not going to happen. He doesn't know where I live and he won't find out. I'll make sure of it. I'm not going to let him near you again. Ever."
Her expression softened and his words finally seemed to sink in. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Sweetheart, please. I'm begging you. Let me take care of you."
"What about yesterday? The things you said..."
"Emma, sweetheart," he said closing his eyes for a moment. He felt like the biggest jackass in the planet for putting her through that. "I know we both said things we didn't mean. Just please forget about that right now. We can talk about that later all you want." He looked intently into her eyes. "I'm telling you this as a friend, as a human being to another. You're not safe here and you need to leave."
"I don't think I can do this, Max," she whispered as tears started falling down her cheeks.
"Shh, baby. Yes, you can and you will. You're coming with me. Everything will be fine. I promise," he said wiping her tears away. He kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back, okay? Just please get dressed."
Not letting her answer, he zipped up her suitcases and headed out the door. He practically ran out of there again, and hauled the suitcases into his car once he reached the street.
When he walked back into the apartment, he was surprised to see her fully dressed and sitting on the couch in the living room. She was holding a coffee mug in her hand that had a cartoon of an elephant that read 'Don't let the turkeys get you down'. Inside of the mug was also a small box that clearly meant something to her. It broke his heart seeing her like that, but somehow he conjured up a reassuring smile for her anyway and went to kneel in front of her.
"Ready?" he whispered, out of breath. He still couldn't believe this was really happening. But then she gave him a slight nod that finally sealed the deal. She was finally saying yes to him. Thank you, Lord.
He took his Ray-Bans out of his pocket and put them on her after kissing her forehead. He didn't want anyone seeing her like that but him.
"Let's go." Gently grabbing her free hand, he led her out the door and out of that god awful life.
The car ride was a complete blur to him, and all he could think of was getting her to safety. As he entered the parking lot of his apartment building, he noticed she had fallen sound asleep again. He parked the car and went to her side to pick her up and take her inside to his home – to her new home. It felt so natural to have her in his arms, and crossing the threshold of his door with her felt completely right.
He walked into his bedroom and placed her inside his bed after pulling back the covers. He climbed inside with her and pulled her close next to him, their bodies melding and aligning perfectly with each other. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist and pressed his lips to her hair. He took a deep breath inhaling her sweet scent, only to give the biggest sigh of relief afterwards.
He couldn't help the shivers that wracked through his entire body as the adrenaline high he had been on up until that point began settling. He had to keep reminding himself he wasn't dreaming and that the woman he loved with everything he possessed was now here, with him, and that she was now safe.
Tears pricked at his eyes, and he couldn't determine if they were out of happiness or sadness. Probably out of both, but the underlying emotion was something he hadn't felt in a long time and that was hope. Yes, this was exactly where she belonged.