Chapter Seventeen
Half an hour later I was scaling Emma’s fire escape and climbing through her open window.
I had tried buzzing her apartment but there had been no response and I was out of my mind with worry.
If someone called the cops at the sight of me breaking in, then so be it.
I had a good enough story to tell, that was for sure.
Any sense of loyalty to the man that had been my father figure was well and truly gone, he could be locked up for life now and I wouldn’t care.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I straightened and scanned my surroundings.
I was in the living area. The kitchen/diner was to my left, the main apartment door straight ahead and two further doors were to my right.
One, I assumed, would be to her bedroom and one to the bathroom.
There were no sounds in the flat, other than those that came from outside and the adjoining tenants.
“Emma?” I called out tentatively, trying to calm my racing pulse. “Emma, are you here? It’s me, Abi.”
“Abi?” Her voice was so quiet I almost missed it.
“Emma?” I raced to one of the doors, swinging it open. It was the bedroom. The bed was a ruffled mess but empty, there were clothes strewn on the floor along with an open suitcase, but no Emma.
“Emma, where are you?”
“In here.” The sound came from the other door and in my desperation I flung it open, not thinking to knock.
There she was, her body cocooned in a deep bubble bath.
Relief swept through me but then I saw her properly: a bust lip, a bruised jaw and a graze across her right knuckle.
And those were just the bits I could see.
“Baby!” I raced to the tub and knelt beside it, my hand moving to cover hers. Pain like I had never known ripped through me. The bastard had done this to her!
“Hey, darling, it’s okay, please don’t cry,” she said gently, her hand coming up to stroke the crazy mass of hair from my face.
I wiped at my eyes to rid them of the tears I’d unknowingly shed, but it was no use, they fell relentlessly as the true horror of what my stepfather had done was before me. “How could he do this to you? How could he be so evil? I’m so, so sorry.”
“Hey, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she soothed. “I only have myself to blame.”
“How can you say that?” I said, my voice full of anguish and guilt.
She gave a small, knowing smile. “You know how, it’s just like you said, I never should have got involved with him in the first place.”
“Oh, Emma,” I shook my head, my tears falling hard and fast as I bowed my head to rest against her own.
“Please don’t cry,” she said again, wincing as she tried to sit up in the bath, the reaction enough to tell me that her body was indeed sporting similar injuries to her face.
Concern taking over my grief, I raised my head to look at her. “You need medical attention.”
“I’ll be okay,” she said trying to smile and failing pathetically. “It’s nothing an ice pack or two won’t heal. What about you, though? Edward told me it was all a wasted effort, that he’d had you certified as insane or some such nonsense...”
I could hear the rising panic in her voice and see her body stiffening with the stress of her thoughts, her face contorting with pain as the tension aggravated her wounds.
“Shh, baby, don’t worry about that right now.
” I said, my hand gently squeezing her own.
Now was not the time. She didn’t have the strength to go through it all and, more importantly, I needed to get us out of the flat before my stepfather tracked us down.
God knew how far he would go if he found us together.
There would be plenty of time to explain everything when we were safely away.
“How can I not worry?” she stared up at me, her captivating green orbs wide with concern. “From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted to look after you.”
Her words warmed me to the core and instinctively I reached for her, my fingers nudging her lips to mine as I pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, the side untouched by my stepfather and his thugs.
“We can talk about it all later, let’s get you out of the bath first,” I said, my voice soft and encouraging. “Everything will be all right” — she eyed me doubtfully — “I promise.”
She still didn’t look convinced but at least she didn’t object, her hand coming out for my own as she started to stand. Helping her out, I had to bite back a gasp as the bubbles slid down her body and unveiled patch after patch of fresh bruising.
Christ, they must have used her like a punch bag!
The imagery brought bile rising in my throat and I swallowed it down. Turning away to take up the largest towel I could find, I wrapped it around her, careful not to touch her too hard, and led her into the bedroom.
She was shivering uncontrollably beneath my palms as I set her down on the edge of the bed and I hurried to draw the quilt up and over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling, her legs jittering up and down as she worked to warm herself up.
“I just want to check you over,” I said to her gently, my hands rubbing carefully up and down her arms.
She gave a violent shudder that had me biting back further tears and my mind screaming profanities directed at my stepfather, but then she nodded her consent.
Her trust in me so wholehearted that I felt unworthy, guilt at having brought this hell down upon her tearing me apart inside.
But I had to bury it. Feeling guilty wasn’t going to get us to safety.
Preparing myself, I gritted my teeth and parted the towel.
Keeping my composure steady, outwardly at any rate, I scanned her body for any wounds that looked like they needed immediate attention.
In truth, I didn’t really know where to begin .
.. her body, so beautiful and feminine, had taken on a patchwork blanket of varying shades of color.
Not a limb had gone unscathed. She screamed fragile and broken, and it was all I could do not to crush her to me and refuse to let her go again.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” I asked quietly.
“Medicine cabinet” — she paused to yawn and wince simultaneously — “in the bathroom.”
“I’ll be back,” I said, closing the quilt around her.
Hurrying out of the room, I grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and headed for the kitchen area, closing the living room window as I passed to shut out the morning chill.
Locating the freezer, I hunted out an ice tray and dropped the contents into a cloth.
I was gone mere minutes, yet when I returned she was fast asleep, curled in a tight ball at the edge of her bed.
I studied her peaceful form and couldn’t bring myself to disturb her too much. Joining her on the bed, I gently pulled her body back to spoon against me and placed the ice against her jaw. She moaned in protest.
“Hush, baby, it will help,” I said into her hair, kissing it gently.
She buried her head under my chin and stilled, sleep consuming her once more. She was utterly wiped out.
Now I really didn’t know what to do. She desperately needed to rest and I needed to get us out of here before my stepfather hunted us down.
But surely half an hour wouldn’t hurt? By my reckoning, he wouldn’t even know that I was missing yet.
I could try and get some rest too. I still felt groggy from the dose the doctor had given me and now that I was lying down, my body relished the comfort.
Nuzzling into her, I closed my eyes and inhaled her freshly-bathed scent, the smell soothing me to the core.
Yes, half an hour would do it and then we could get moving.
I would use the time to plan our next move...