Chapter 6 #2
She raised the hand that clutched her keys and lunged.
Emmett didn’t figure it out until the spray hit his face.
Heat like the worst kind of instant sunburn scorched across his forehead, arching down.
He snapped both eyelids shut, but some of it got underneath.
His eyeballs itched and grated, like someone had tossed sand beneath the lids.
He yelled and fell to his knees, scrubbing at his eyes, desperate to make the pain stop.
His eyes watered, making his contacts shift all over the place, and even his nose started leaking.
He was vaguely aware of the girl speaking to someone. Not Lincoln. No way was he up and about yet, even if he’d woken up when Emmett yelled. Emmett tried to speak, to say something in his own defense.
This is what happens when you try to have a life. Strange girls pepper-spray you.
He used the hem of his shirt to wipe at his face. The constant tearing was helping to get it out of his eyes, but his skin hurt like nothing he’d ever felt. He didn’t move from his spot on the kitchen floor, though, too terrified of being sprayed again.
“Don’t move,” the girl snapped from somewhere nearby. “The cops are on their way.”
“What?” That got his undivided attention. He tried to open his eyes, but the world was foggy, so he shut them again. “Why?”
“You broke into my house, asshole. And I’ve got a weapon, so stay there.”
“Didn’t break in.” As scared as he was of her, he wasn’t a criminal.
“Yeah, right. Then how’d you get in?”
“Lincoln.”
“What?” Her sharp tone made him shrink back. “Linc’s here? Did you fucking hurt him?”
“No!” He surprised himself with his snapped response. “We’re friends.”
“Oh yeah? Then where the fuck is he?”
“Bed. Migraine.”
Several long seconds passed before she said, “Don’t move.”
As if he planned to. Footsteps moved away, probably to verify that yes, Lincoln was home, and yes, he was laid up with a migraine.
Emmett tried opening his eyes again. The grainy feeling remained, but the stinging had lessened.
Maybe his contacts had been good for something.
It didn’t help the way his skin burned and ached from contact with the pepper spray.
He focused on the far side of the living room, which was blurry but slowly coming into focus.
Footsteps pounded in his direction, and he flinched back. He scooted until his back hit the cabinets. The girl darted past him for the sink.
“I am so sorry, oh my God.” She ran water. “Shit, he’s going to kill me when he finds out about this.”
Relief flooded Emmett, and he let his strung-tight body relax a bit. She wasn’t going to attack him again. Instead, she squatted in front of him and held out a wet dishrag. Her face was twisted up with a different kind of fear—not of him, but for him.
“I’m so sorry. I’m Roxy. Here, please, wipe your face off.”
Emmett took the rag, which smelled like dish soap. It felt like sandpaper over an open wound but he used it anyway. He flinched from her touch when she tried to help him stand. She maintained distance while he washed his face in the kitchen sink with more soap.
The police siren sounded as he was reaching for a towel to dab his face dry.
His heart kicked.
“Oh shit,” Roxy said. “Hang tight, okay?”
Emmett clung to the sink, his stomach twisting inside out while Roxy ran to the front door. He waited, terrified of being arrested for doing nothing more than existing—especially if they asked to see his ID.
Whatever fast talking Roxy had attempted didn’t work, because she came back in with two city police officers in tow. A man and a woman, both young.
“See?” Roxy said, flapping a hand in his direction. “I’m not being coerced. It was a huge misunderstanding. I didn’t realize he was dating my roommate.”
Dating?
“And where is your roommate now?” the female officer asked.
Roxy heaved a dramatic sigh. “I told you, he’s sleeping off a migraine. He got a really bad concussion in a car accident last summer, so he gets super-awful migraines sometimes. Second door on the left if you don’t believe me.” She pointed at the hallway.
The male officer walked toward Emmett, and he couldn’t help shrinking back. He had no love for or faith in the police anymore. “What’s your name?”
He glanced at Roxy, who was watching them with open curiosity. The last thing Emmett wanted to do was give his real name, but if the officer asked to see his ID, he’d only land himself in more trouble. “Emilio Sharif,” he replied.
“Is Ms. Bounds’s story true?”
“Yes, sir. Well, mostly. I’m not dating Lincoln. We’re friends, and we spent the afternoon together. He forgot his sunglasses at lunch, and the sunshine triggered his migraine. I hadn’t met Roxy before, so me being here probably scared her. It would have scared me.” He pulled back on his babbling.
The officer gave him a once-over. “She got you good with that pepper spray.”
“I’m aware, yes.”
“You have ID?”
“Of course.” Emmett fumbled for his wallet and produced his driver’s license.
He wasn’t surprised when the officer took it and left. Probably to run the number and make sure he didn’t have a record—which he did not. Not a single speeding ticket.
“Is all of this really necessary?” Roxy asked. “I told you it was a mistake.”
“Why did you pepper-spray him, if it was a mistake?” the female officer asked.
“Because I freaked, okay? Look, I was nearly date-raped last summer, and I walk to my job, so I carry pepper spray on my key chain. All I saw was a strange guy in my home, and I reacted instead of asking him a simple question.” Roxy threw him an apologetic glance.
Emmett was a little surprised by the wealth of personal information she’d just verbalized to two strangers. But it seemed to catch the female officer’s sympathy, and even Emmett couldn’t totally blame her for coming on so strong. She’d seen a perceived threat and she had reacted to save herself.
Something else occurred to him. The officer had called her Ms. Bounds. “Are you related to Dominic?” Emmett asked.
Roxy grinned. “Yup. Sister. And before you ask, we’re both adopted.”
That definitely helped explain why she looked more Zendaya than Hudson Williams.
“Wait, you’re Dominic Bounds’s sister?” the officer asked. “As in one-half of Off Beat?”
“The one and only.” Roxy’s mood shifted to that of a very proud sister. “Isn’t he amazing? I was always so jealous of how talented he is. The only thing I’m good at is cussing people out, and that’s not really something our parents encouraged.”
Emmett released a rusty sound that was almost laughter. Pepper spray aside, he was kind of starting to like Roxy. He vaguely paid attention to their conversation about Off Beat until the male officer returned.
He handed Emmett back his license. “You know, you’re well within your rights to press assault charges for the pepper spray.”
Roxy squawked.
“No, thank you,” Emmett said. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.”
The officer nodded, and he and his partner left. After Roxy shut the door, she walked into the kitchen, both hands held up in mock surrender. “I am really, really sorry.”
His face still hurt and he really needed to blow his nose, but the worst had passed. “It’s okay. Sounds like you had reason to panic.”
She shrugged as she lowered her hands. “I guess. I still feel awful. Lincoln’s trying this new thing called making friends, and I go and attack one of them. Emilio, right?”
His pulse jumped. “Actually, I prefer to go by Emmett.”
“Why?”
He really did not want to unpack that with a near-stranger. “Long story.”
“Okay, whatever floats your boat. You do kind of look more like an Emilio than an Emmett.”
He knew that more than she realized. The contacts to make his eyes look hazel instead of dark brown-almost-black. The light-brown hair dye that barely made his naturally black color look medium brown. He lived in disguise every single day, trying to distance himself from his Syrian roots.
Trying to be anonymous.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Roxy said, “Okay, Emmett it is. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“So the sunglasses thing? That’s what set off Linc’s migraine?”
“Yes.” He gave Roxy an overview of their afternoon, all the way up to his search for an ice pack. “You know the rest.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Again. God, your face looks awful.”
“Good, because it feels awful.”
“The good news is that when I started carrying pepper spray, my parents made sure I knew how to treat it, in case I accidentally burned myself. Do you wear contacts?”
“Yes.”
“Then go take them out and throw them away. They’re contaminated.”
And his last pair. He’d have to save up to afford more. But he did as told, popping them out with practiced ease. If Roxy noticed the big change in eye color she didn’t comment. She was busy soaking a fresh towel in milk.
“Go lie down on the couch, flat on your back,” she said.
He did as told. She came over a moment later and placed the milky towel over his eyes.
“This will help absorb the oil out of your skin, okay?”
“Okay.”
After a few minutes with the towel, his face started feeling better.
Less like an open fire pit and more like a heating pad.
Roxy brought a second milk-soaked towel over to replace the first. Emmett concentrated on the slow way his skin calmed, most of the irritation leaking away.
The next thing she brought him was an ice pack, and that felt amazing.
He lost track of time and started to doze, his thoughts wandering back to how much he’d enjoyed spending time with Lincoln. Despite how it had ended, he’d had fun today. He wanted to do it all again—except maybe without the migraine and pepper spray.
“How are you feeling?” Roxy asked at some point.
“Better.” Emmett lifted the warming ice pack. His skin was tender, if somewhat cold, and he imagined it was flaming red. “Thank you.”
“Believe me, it’s the least I could do. Lincoln is going to kill me.”
He tracked her voice to the other side of the sofa, where she loomed over him. “I don’t think so. He’d have a hard time explaining that to Dominic, wouldn’t he?”
She giggled. “Too true. So where’d you meet Linc?”
“Off Beat. The owner is my aunt.”
“That’s awesome.”
He fished his phone out of his pocket. Still two hours before he had to be at the club. Although Aunt Beatrice might take one look at his face and send him home. “How bad is my face, anyway?”
“Um . . .”
“Great.” He snapped a quick selfie to check the damage, and yeah, he looked bad. Like he’d gotten a horrible sunburn on his forehead, across both eyes, and on part of his cheeks. “Ugh.”
“Sorry?”
“Please, stop apologizing.” He deleted the photo, then sat up. “I should probably go.”
“Okay.”
She walked him to the door, wearing apology like a shroud.
“When Lincoln wakes up,” Emmett said, “tell him I had a really great time today.”
“I will. It’ll put him in a good place before he throttles me.”
He smiled. “If it helps, tell him I forgive you for the pepper spray.” I’ve lived through far worse.
“Okay. See you around, Emmett.”
“Bye, Roxy.”
Despite the pepper-spray incident and the police involvement, Emmett left happier than he’d been in ages. He’d genuinely enjoyed his time with Lincoln, and he wanted to see him again. Even though he wouldn’t risk anything except friendship with him, Emmett was eager for their next day out.
As expected, Aunt Beatrice took one look at his face, listened quietly to his explanation, and then told him to take the night off.
Emmett was so used to spending his evenings at Off Beat that he wasn’t sure what to do all night.
Television wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, so he curled up on the couch with his tablet and picked a book he’d been wanting to read.
The house was quiet until around nine o’clock, when Adrian banged through the front door.
He rattled around in the kitchen for a while before barging into the living room with a beer bottle and a sandwich on a plate. He stopped short. “Fuck, dude, you scared me.”
“Sorry.”
“Why are you home?”
The accusation in the question raised Emmett’s hackles. “I had an incident today. Your mom told me to stay home tonight.”
Adrian stepped closer and squinted. “The fuck happened to you?”
He sat in the armchair near the couch and ate while Emmett described his day. Adrian scowled through the whole thing, like he didn’t really care, but he also didn’t tell Emmett to shut up. It was as interested as Adrian had been in his personal life in forever.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Adrian said once Emmett ended with coming home.
“A sign of what?”
“That hanging with Lincoln West is only going to end in pain and trouble.”
Emmett blinked. “Because of one misunderstanding?”
“Dude, his roommate pepper-sprayed you. That isn’t a misunderstanding, that’s deliberate.”
“She was scared. She didn’t know who I was.” Emmett couldn’t explain his deep-seated need to defend Roxy. And no way was he giving up Lincoln on Adrian’s say-so. Especially not when this was the most words they’d exchanged in one sitting in over a year.
“Yeah, well, be careful, okay? Don’t end up dead like the rest of your family.”
Grief punched Emmett in the gut over the careless way Adrian said that. Adrian seemed oblivious, too intent on his sandwich and beer. Unwilling to get upset in front of his cousin, Emmett took his tablet and went to his bedroom.
Behind the closed door, he let loose a silent scream of anger, frustration, and grief. He missed his parents and sister intensely, every single day, and he didn’t need anyone reminding him of his loss. He knew what he’d lost, and he knew why.
He knew exactly why his parents and sister were dead, and he’d never make that mistake again. He couldn’t risk it.
Even if it meant a life of loneliness, surrounded by casual friends. And never knowing another lover’s touch.
I won’t risk it.
His heart wouldn’t survive losing anyone else he loved.