warning this chapter contains strong adult content
The only thing that is comfortable with our current situation is Emmett's warm skin pressed against mine. The lower half of my bed lay broken on the floor, leaving us laying at a very awkward angle. We broke it the first time around without even trying. Emmett fixed it while I was attempting to freshening up. Only to break it again within minutes of our second time around.
I trace the outlines of his tattoos and scars. I already know most by heart and anything that's recent I know how he got it. Prison isn't easy, and Emmett has a lot of enemies and the ones that aren't his hate him just because of who he rides with.
I touch one low on his hip, close to his thigh. It's jagged and rough, the edges uneven. "My first week in," he says, and my fingers caress it again. "A Riffer wanted to make sure that I knew he was running the place."
The thought of him in that place when he didn't belong there breaks my heart. The things that he went through that he didn't have to, and for no reason. He places his hand over mine, stopping its motion.
"I'd do it all over again," he puts my hand in his and pulls it to his mouth. "To be right here, right now," Emmett kisses the tip of each of my fingers. "To know that it kept you safe," he draws my thumb into his mouth and slowly releases it. "I see the wheels turning in your head," he nips at my thumb pad. "Don't over think it, I'm not perfect. I deserved to be there," he bits a little harder.
I kiss my way down his chest, covering every scar I find. I pull my fingers from his hand and straddle his hips. I let my wet fingers dance over my now favorite scar. I'm in awe of what's placed in front of me.
Here lays a man who threw away his life to save the daughter of a man he thought to be a friend to his enemy, only to somehow be his friend.
Emmett thought that as long as he was in prison for my parent's murder, no one would go looking for James. He'd think he got away with it and I was safe. That was until 3 more bodies showed up in Seattle, 12 years after Emmett was incarcerated. They used DNA to match it to my parent's murder and got a match to James. Seattle does carry the death penalty, and if I testify, he's looking at death row if they ever find him.
"What?" Emmett asks me, his thumb not drawing circles over a scar on my knee.
"Why'd you do it? I ask him, trying to pull my leg over him, so we're in a less intimate position, but he holds me there. "I was a skinny 12-year-old girl. Please don't tell me you were into that?"
Emmett laughs, but it's not a whole-hearted laugh. I know his wife had just died right before that. "Your dad took the blame for something I did, and it cost him everything. I needed to repay the favor," his hands move up and down my skin like he's memorizing it, like it's the last time he's going to see it, touch it. "Maybe, this is a mistake," he says and sits up. I can see he's thinking about bolting now.
I put both hands on his chest and push him back down. We both know if he wanted to get up and leave he could, and there's nothing I could do to stop him. "Wait a second. Two minutes ago there was no place else you'd rather be. You wouldn't change anything. Now, this is a mistake? What changed just like that?" I'm confused and hurt, I don't understand what's happening.
He looks at me and then at my hands against his chest. "I was the one who shot Victoria," he says matter of factly.
I'm blown away. The police report said my dad shot her, that she pulled out a gun on him after she set up a drug bust. I sit back on my backside and fall away from Emmett. Why did my dad lie for him? He lost his badge for it. Why would Emmett shot his own wife? Was he the dealer they were meeting?
"I told you this was a mistake," Emmett says, and he's off the bed and pulling on his jeans. "I didn't kill your parents, but I'm still the reason they're not here," he shouts a little louder than necessary.
Emmett is pacing the room. "I was working as your dad's informant." I know he's still saying something, but my mind is flying to Victoria's police file. Everything in there said she was my dad's informant. Was it fake? Every photo in her folder had Emmett in it. There were no signed affidavits by her or video recordings. Nothing that proved she was an informant.
"The Nomads were drug runners when Victor's dad got popped. My pops thought we could finally patch them over by giving them legit businesses in Folks, but they just used them as fronts. When Victoria got busted your dad offered her a deal," Emmett drops down into the oversized chair. "When she refused to take it, I went to your dad with another deal," his head falls into his hands.
"I just wanted to save her," he says, and tears are running down my cheeks. "I told her I wanted in on her brother's deal. We set up the meet. When the police showed up to bust James, Victoria pulled out a gun on Charlie. His back was turned, he trusted me. He would have never seen it coming," Emmet reaches down for one of his boots. "I shot her right when before James came running in. Charlie shot at James, but he got away, and I ran," he tugs his boot on. "The next morning the paper read that Victoria was shot by the chief in a drug bust gone bad," he picks up the other boot and tugs it on.
"Are you trying to save me because you couldn't save her?" I need to know no matter how much it hurts.
"God no," Emmett is on his knees in front of me. "Don't you see? You've been saving me all this time. His hands are on my hips, and he's pulling me closer to him. "The night your patents died, the four years of letters, here and now."
I'm taken back by his word, his honesty. I've known Jacob my whole life, and he's never talked to me the way Emmett does.
"When did you know?" I ask Emmett.
"That I needed you? From the very first letter," he answers.
"No. When did you know it was me writing to you?" I clarify my question.
His hand runs from my hip. His fingers sliding against my bare skin until they reach the scar on my knee. He rubs his thumb against it. "When I wrote to you about the time I crashed my bike." He leans forward and softly kisses the scar on my knee. "You wrote back telling me about the time you crashed yours," he puts his chin in my lap and stares up at me. "I was with Charlie when he got the call that you had been hit by the car. All I can remember him saying into the phone was, Bell, Bell, Bell. He was so worried about you. He couldn't get to you fast enough."
That was like our 9th or 10th letter. "You knew for the whole 4 years?" How could he have still written to me?
"Yes," he smiles like the cat that ate the canary, and he lowers his mouth to my knee and kisses it again.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask him. He just raises his nudges his shoulders up and down. I know there would have been no easy way to bring it up, but I'm afraid if I stop talking he'll stop doing what he's doing. "Were you mad?" My voice squeals a little as his lips reach my inner thigh.
"I had to do some math before I sent the next letter," he states, and his mouth moves higher. I open my legs just an inch more. "I still think you might be too young for me," his breath tickles me in all the right spots, and I whimper
"There you go," Emmett replies and slides his fingers between my legs. I fall back on the bed and hang on to whatever I can find, as not to shove Emmett's head between my legs. His tongue laps at me slowly, and his fingers fill me one then two at a time. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed, his bread brushing against every spot that his tongue can't reach. When he bits down on my lips, I lift off the bed, only to have him pull me in closer and do it again. I'm coming apart, but it's not enough I need more of him.
With every ounce of strength I have, I'm up and pushing Emmett onto his backside. I'm sure he's not fighting me, but my body is shaking, and every ounce of me is spent. He takes my mouth softly with his, testing it. I can taste myself on him, and he wants to make sure I'm okay with it. I let my tongue explore his mouth, savoring myself mixed along with mine, and work to once again remove his pants.
My hand touches him, and he flips me onto my back. My hands are locked above my head, and Emmett is removing what is left of his clothes. He positions himself just outside my entrance and slowly enters me. "Fuck Bella," he breathes against my cheek. "I thought this time would be easier," he says, and pulls my arms down closers to my head, my body arches up and Emmett takes one breast in his mouth and then the other, bitting down softly before releasing it.
He releases my hands, leans back. I watch him in amazement as he slowly pulls out and pushes back into me, watching every stroke as he enters me now. He reaches for the back of my neck, and he yanks me up to him, pushing as far into me as he can go. I let out a loud moan, and he covers his mouth with mine. "I'm sorry Bella," he says against my open mouth, and he rocks into me again, harder this time. I cry out again. He rocks into even harder, pulling the edges of my hair, pulling my mouth away from his. "Fuck I'm sorry Bella," he says, and he starts to slow down his punishment.
"God, please don't stop." I tilt my pelvis towards him, my chest up and expose even more of myself to him. I've never felt this way.
Emmett's mouth is licking the empty spot between my breast, his teeth graze against my skin. He pushes into me again and again and again. My inside quiver non stop and Emmet holds very still inside me, pushing as deep as he can go. All I can think about is the loss I'll feel when he removes himself.
