Drowning
Prologue
E m e r s o n
December
Gentle hands rove over my body, attempting to slide beneath my snug black dress. I try to evade the touch, but I'm gently pulled and turned around, my back pressed against the door of my bedroom.
"Not now, Damon," I say to my long-time boyfriend, trying to compose myself before going back downstairs.
"It'll help get your mind off things," he tells me with a smile, evoking memories of the boy I fell in love with years ago, the same melting glint in his hazel eyes.
But he's not that same boy anymore.
And I'm not that same girl anymore.
A lot's changed between us, and around us, cracking the comfortable foundation we built together.
When I don't respond, his expression transforms into anger as he pushes off the door behind me.
"It's always 'not right now,' Emerson. Damn it, I have fucking needs too," he states before grabbing his black hoodie and storming out, leaving me reeling against the wall from the force of the door slamming behind him.
The sound echoes in my ears long after he's gone, and with my back pressed against the wall, I sink to the floor, shaking, with tears streaming down my face, smudging the hours of makeup I carefully applied. My long chestnut curls are tangled from Damon's grip.
But at this moment, my appearance is inconsequential.
Nothing matters anymore.
My parents are gone, never coming back. They won't care about how I look because they're not here to see me.
The pain of their loss pierces my heart once more, as I obsess over the fatal car accident that ended their lives, leaving my brother and me all alone.
Now I'm trapped here with a boyfriend who can't comprehend my grief or support me when I need him the most.
I wipe away my tears and stand up, realizing that I need to be strong for Eli and myself, even though I can't see how that's fucking possible.
The music from downstairs fills the house—my parents' song—serving as a reminder of their absence.
I need to escape.
Flinging open my bedroom door with tear-blurred vision, I collide with a solid chest, my nose taking the brunt of the impact.
"Fuck!" I exclaim, tears clouding my vision and making it difficult to discern who it is… Yet I know without a doubt just by the way he smells.
"Apologies, Emerson," Seven, my brother's best friend, says as he steadies me with his hands on my shoulders.
"I'm fine. I just didn't see you there," I say, wiping the tears from my eyes as the world comes back into focus. "What are you doing up here?"
"Checking on you. We saw Damon leave, so I wanted to make sure you're okay," he explains, his smile causing my broken heart to flutter.
Seven— eleven years my senior—has always been off-limits. With piercing blue eyes reminiscent of the ocean, light hair just long enough to pull, and a perfectly tanned, tattooed physique, he's undeniably attractive. Yet anything beyond a platonic relationship between us would irrevocably upset Eli.
"Are you okay?" Seven asks, bringing me back to the present, standing at the top of the stairs.
"Not really, but I will be," I admit, feeling submerged in sorrow yet hoping I can overcome it.
"Did he hurt you?" His voice becomes hushed, ensuring no one in my family downstairs can overhear.
I shake my head, wishing to put it behind me. "No, he's just upset," I say, brushing it off and attempting to walk past him.
"Wait, Em," he says, holding me tighter, pulling me near to his chest.
As much as I want to lay my head against him and embrace him with all my might, I hesitate. If Damon were to witness, he'd erupt. If Eli were to see us, it would lead to chaos. A fucking hug isn't worth the fallout.
"I should go back," I begin, but I'm unable to finish my sentence before his lips softly meet mine, his hand resting protectively on my hip.
The kiss may be brief, but it's enough to make me question everything. His tongue glides with ease around in my mouth, sending tingles all the way down to my toes.
"What... what was that for?" I ask as he pulls away, touching my tingling lips with my fingers.
"You know exactly what it was, Princess. After all these years, can't you figure out why I did that?" he chuckles, intertwining his fingers with mine and guiding me downstairs.
En route, I'm engulfed by various family members offering their condolences, recounting tales of my parents, and giving me money to help, even though I don't need it. .
I lost my parents; nothing will ever completely heal that wound.
A flute of champagne is placed into my hand, and I accept it without a second thought, needing to numb myself before facing people I'd rather not see. In the background, the hushed whispers of my brother, Seven, and our friend Stone are unmistakable.
I decide to step outside for some air and pass by the room where photos of my parents are scattered across the tables. I resist the urge to look, quickly grabbing a bottle of wine from the bar.
I push open the back patio door, stumble outside, and hope to keep my tears at bay until I can be alone.
The snow crunches beneath my heels as I descend the porch steps, making my way toward the fire flickering in the backyard firepit. Sitting down, I allow the warmth of the flames to envelop me. Besides the pain of losing my parents, I can't get the simple kiss from Seven out of my mind.
"Would you like some company?" A deep, resonant voice filled with sensuality and danger startles me, and moments later, my father's best friend Kane appears, holding a bottle of his own.
"Sure, sit." I motion to the empty spot beside me, taking a generous swig from the wine bottle.
Kane joins me, sitting so close that our shoulders touch. Instinctively, I rest my head on his shoulder and exhale heavily, the weight of everything still feeling like a fucking elephant on my chest.
Kane remains silent for a while, simply being there for me before speaking. "If you ever need me, Little One, you call me. I won't hesitate to come." He kisses my temple, wraps his arm around me, and does his best to bring a smile to my face.
And he does.
With his other hand, he runs it down my thigh, giving my knee a playful squeeze. The intriguing look he gives me makes me swallow slowly and hard, unable to pull my eyes off of him, wondering what he's thinking about. His gaze then drops to my lips and nervously I lick them, trying to keep my eyes off of his.
He was my father's best friend and my closest confidant when me and my parents didn't see eye-to-eye.
Kane, his son, Stone, and my father were in the same MC club together; riding bikes was their life. My mother wasn't a fan of it, especially since my brother and I got bikes of our own. She was terrified something would happen to us—the irony.
My parents meant everything to me, especially my father. Even at twenty-two, I still lived at home because I couldn't bear the thought of leaving them. And now, because of a drunk driver who fled the scene, they're no longer with us. Eli and I are alone now, but at least we have each other.
“You're going to be okay, kiddo,” Kane reassures me, breaking the silence, his hand resting on my knee and his fingers dragging lazily up and down my arm. An innocent gesture is turning into so much more in my mind, and I know I need to put a stop to it before it gets out of control.
He leans in, kissing my cheek, the stubble on his face scratching against my skin, a shiver wracking my body.
“I'll always be here.”
One by one, my brother, Seven, and Stone join me and Kane around the fire, offering silent support. I keep drinking, trying to escape the pain—to forget the loss even just for one night.
I already feel myself falling into a dark hole and I fear what might happen if I can't find a way out.
How am I going to carry on without my parents? I guess I'll figure it out one way or another.
The warmth of the fire and the company of those around me start to ease the pain, if only just a little. I look at everyone, feeling grateful for their presence. And especially for Kane, who seems to be looking out for me in his own way.
The weight of the wine in the bottle is a reminder of the dark hole I'm trying to avoid, but for now, it offers some sort of fleeting relief.
I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the warmth of the fire as I come to terms with the fact that I'll need to figure out how the fuck I'm going to live without my parents.