13. Pearl
Pearl
Leslie's car was clearly a mom’s car. The SUV had a car seat in the back, plus a ton of toys and other things scattered around. She even had to move stuff out of the passenger seat for me to get in.
When Emerson never came back, she agreed to take me home, but no one at the office could know Emerson and I lived together. It was better that way to avoid rumors of anything else going on between us.
All I could do was hope she didn’t know Emerson's address, though she didn't mention it when I gave it to her, so I assumed we were safe.
“Does this happen often?” I asked as we got closer to Emerson's building. I'd been skirting around the topic during our drive and finally found the courage to ask. “Surprise guests, I mean.”
Leslie looked at me nervously out of the corner of her eye and chuckled.
“Not too often, no.” Her voice wavered a bit.
“Emerson is getting famous out there for what she's done for our company and the others under her care.
We don't tell her to her face, but she is very impressive.
We're not the only ones who see it, though, and it would seem that some people… would like to take advantage of that.”
I clutched my bag in my hands.
I knew she’d met someone downstairs while I had lunch with Cristian and Leslie. After that, she walked in, got her stuff, and left. No explanation about what happened. She didn’t even make it to the meeting she had scheduled.
I didn't expect her to tell me where she was going or everything that she was doing, but it was the first time she wasn’t taking me home from the office.
Total radio silence when I thought she’d text about that.
I even thought, given our contract, that she might have been a little bit more open with me.
Even though she's not the only one.
I had been thinking about the text message I got, trying to figure out how I would break it to her. She was already asking about why I’d left school. I didn't want her finding out from someone else.
When it happened, everyone wanted to publish something about it, from gossip magazines to regular people with blogs. They were watching their very own true crime drama unfold before their eyes, and they just couldn't help themselves.
Everyone had been thirsty for my take on it or trying to find new angles on the case, uncaring that I almost died. All of it had been reduced to a flashy headline.
“Student Found Covered in Blood in Abandoned Classroom”
“Obsessed Stalker Corners Victim in Chilling Classroom Attack”
“Police Catch Killer in the Act—Victim Seconds from Death”
“Stalker Linked to String of Classmate Murders in Twisted Bid for Attention”
A thought crossed my mind.
What if Emerson’s surprise guest was him?
For all I knew, he was in jail for attempted murder. At least that's what I hoped. I had been too afraid to keep up with all of the news, unable to look back at the memories without feeling queasy. All I’d wanted to do was to forget.
Guilt ate at me, slowly destroying my insides.
Am I going to put Emerson in danger?
I couldn’t handle the thought of someone hurting her. Of him coming for her like he had for me.
Emerson could handle herself, I knew that. But that didn't stop me from worrying.
There was no protection against someone crazy and obsessed enough with you that they would stop at nothing until you were theirs. I’d learned that the hard way.
He tried to take out anyone who even got remotely close to me. Classmates who smiled at me. Someone who sat next to me for what he saw as too long. But no one connected the dots—not even me—until… Well, until he tried to kill me.
That was why it was so hard for me to accept Emerson seeing me in the shadows and wanting to bring me to the light. She didn't know there had been someone just like her but with far worse intentions.
“Pearl? Hello? Are you okay?”
I jumped when Leslie's voice broke through my musing. I hadn't realized she had stopped the car and was waiting for me to get out.
“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm just so tired and—”
“It's fine, girl,” she said as she patted my arm. “Trust me, I've been there. Just go ahead and get some rest tonight, okay?”
I nodded, and with a weak goodbye, I left her car.
This was my first time arriving without Emerson and not going straight up from the parking garage, so I thought the guy in the lobby would want to know who I was and probably want to see my ID before allowing me in.
Instead, he greeted me with a “Good evening, Ms. Meadows,” and offered me a smile along with a key that I supposed was to Emerson’s penthouse.
Maybe Emerson got me on an approved visitor list or something? It was such a small gesture, but it warmed my heart.
On my way up in the elevator, I decided I was going to tell Emerson everything tonight. More than my fear of revisiting the past, she needed to know. Otherwise, we could both be in grave danger.
I unlocked the door using the key and showed myself in. That was when I realized that the house wasn't empty.
Everything was the same as when I left it. The sunset was shining through the windows, giving me a beautiful look at the city.
But on the couch was Emerson. And she wasn't alone.
Both of them turned to look at me. I held in a gasp as I took in her guest. A handsome woman with messy short hair, piercings on her lip and ears, and tattoos covering her arms, chest, and neck.
I couldn’t help the prick of jealousy that ran through me.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” Emerson asked the girl, and she met her with a sly smile, her eyes shining with a mischievous light.
“Is someone finally off the market?” she teased. “She's cute! Better than all those other girls hanging off you in the club.”
And just like that, all my thoughts about telling Emerson about my past blew up into thin air.
Hurt cracked my chest open, and I had trouble keeping the frown from my face.
Other girls. Made-up images of Emerson with imaginary girls feeling her up and fucking her had volatile emotions swirling up inside me
I knew it was a stupid reaction given that Emerson was a free woman before we signed our contract, but it hurt me because this entire time… all I had been thinking about was her.
“Stop being annoying and get out of here,” she said, practically pulling the woman up.
“Alright, alright.” She chuckled and then paused as she passed me. “The name’s Jax. What is—” Her eyes widened before a smirk spread across her face. My face heated. She was teasing me without even saying anything. “Oh! I know you. Emerson bought you at the auction.”
I gasped and covered my mouth. My eyes shot to Emerson. It felt like rubbing salt into a wound.
“You told her?”
“She didn’t have to, I saw it!” she replied, standing with her hands on her hips. “I got myself a pretty little thing that night as well. But unlike your arrangement here, mine’s still fighting me. I just wish she’d come around. I mean, I already ate her pus—”
“We’re done. Get out of here,” Emerson said with a huff and pushed her out the door.
“It was nice to meet you! Like I said, I'm Jax. I have a security company if you need any—”
Emerson slammed the door in her face and turned to look down at me with an unreadable expression.
“What's that look?” she asked, annoyance in her tone.
Hot tears welled in my eyes. I hadn't even realized that I was so close to crying until that moment.
Other. Girls.
I hadn’t even allowed myself to think about Emerson being with anyone else, and now it was all I could think about.
Had she paid them?
Had they played whore for her too?
Rage filled me. I turned away from her, meaning to walk up those stairs so I could be alone. I wasn’t in control. I was pissed off at the whole situation, and I felt like a ticking time bomb. If I blew up, she would be the only victim.
But I didn't get far. She grabbed my wrist hard and pulled me back to look at her.
“Tell me what you need.”
I needed her to hug me. To tell me I was the only one she’d ever wanted. That she had been madly obsessed and in love with me for as long as I’d been with her.
I also wanted her to tell me she found out what happened to me. That she’d done her research and I wouldn’t need to say anything or relive those awful moments.
And all my need, desperation, and jealousy just fueled my anger even more.
“I don't need anything from you,” I spat and tried to move away from her again, but her grip was tight on my wrist.
“The contract says that when you're in my house—”
“Fuck the contract. In fact, fuck you too,” I growled and glared at her. “Just leave me alone and go find one of those other girls supposedly hanging off you.”
At those words, she let me go, but I didn't have it in me to run away from her. I wasn’t going to run this time. So I took a few steps back, watching her digest what I said. Waiting to see if she’d go.
Wishing she didn’t.
Her eyes flashed. Something in them scared and excited me at the same time.
“Kneel.”
One word, but she spoke it in such a commanding voice that my body moved as if I were hypnotized. My knees hit the cold flooring.
She stepped toward me, one hand coming to gently hold my chin, forcing me to look up at her. I loved seeing her above me like this. Total control.
Other. Girls.
But the image of other women with her was burned into my mind. I hated it. I hated the jealousy that ran through my veins.
Most of all, I hated the power she had over me and how my cunt immediately fluttered to life for her.
“Are you jealous?”
I bit my lip, hard, unable to lie to Emerson.
“My poor, neglected slut, have I not been taking good enough care of you? Are you unhappy with me?”
I’m unhappy about you fucking other women. But I still remained quiet.
“You have no reason to be jealous, Pearl,” she said, leaning closer until our faces were just inches apart.
I wanted to believe it. It would be a dream come true if she were telling the truth.
But all my dreams had only turned to nightmares.
“What about the girls?”