Chapter 7
"Honestly Killer, I think I learned this all from you. I've spent the past 6 months sitting through each hearing, trying to wrap my mind around all this..." Jon felt the warmth in the room, gathering Joe had turned up the temperature. Smart man. "Now, if you can promise to be a good little murderess, I won't cuff you back to the bed." It wasn't exactly like she had anywhere to go, now was it? "And I'll even send in a nurse to tend to your little wound there."
Even though Jon couldn't see him, Joe flipped off the monitor, shaking his head. Nurse, really?
"You're going to believe what you want, no matter how many times I say I didn't kill your precious abusive, psychotic best friend. Don't bother sending in a nurse. I don't want anything from you."
Emery could talk better now that she'd gotten a few gulps of water in her system, her stomach once again growling violently. It would pass and the sick feeling would settle in soon. She hated the feeling, but it was better than taking anything Jonathan Good had to offer. Why did incredibly handsome men have to turn out to be abusive dickheads? Would Emery ever find a man who didn't want to hurt her, providing she survived this kidnapping?
"And go fuck yourself while you're at it, asshole."
Maybe he would play nurse himself; Jon felt particularly vicious now. Flashing all his teeth at Emery in what was passably a grin, there was nothing friendly or amusing about it. "Hey bro, why don't you bring me my first aid kit?"
Sighing, Joe pushed away from the table and went to grab the box, knowing Jon would be less nice than he would have been. He let himself into the room, finally eyeballing Emery for the first time in several days, off a monitor. "She's sick."
"That is the least of her concerns. Killer there has a runaway mouth."
Of course she was sick! Jon had just given her a rather quick shower and she hadn't eaten in days. "Joseph Anoa'i. I should be surprised to see you, but I'm not. Knew this asshole had to have an accomplice. You both are gonna feel really fucking stupid sitting in prison when you realize I didn't kill Lopez. And I will be pressing charges once I'm out of here. My attorney will chew you up and spit both of you out so fast, it'll make your heads spin off your damn abusive shoulders. So keep going and see how far it gets you. I'm not changing what I've said for the past almost 7 months. I did not kill Colby Lopez. If I did, don't you think perhaps I would've already killed both of you by now?"
A murderer was cunning and sadistic – two things Emery knew zero how to be. She coughed harder, clutching her hurt wrist tightly against her chest and wrapped her free hand around it to keep it out of sight. It was horrible and more than likely, Emery would lose her hand if it wasn't treated, but again she didn't care.
"See, that's just cute, Killer. You keep mentioning getting out of here. What the hell makes you think you ever will?" Jon shot back, amusement in his tone and looked up when Joe growled. "Now, Joe isn't usually an angry guy, but I don't think he appreciates you being so hostile." He rifled around in the box, eyeballing its contents. "Joe, how's Lise doing?"
Joe folded his arms over his chest. "She met someone in the park behind her apartment building." He said flatly, trying not to look at Emery. "Met a nice guy there too..."
It took Jon a moment and when it hit him, he began laughing. "That's sick, man!"
"Leave her alone, do you understand me? Torture me all you want, but you leave Annalise alone, assholes! She has nothing to do with this!"
Emery had to get out of here and warn Annalise before she ended up going on a date with this lunatic! There had to be a way. No doubt John Layfield would start looking for her once Annalise realized something wasn't right. She was a fairly good judge of character and hopefully would see right through the Samoan. When Jon demanded to see her wrist, Emery shook her head and slapped him as hard as she could with her good hand across the face after he reached for it.
"DON'T TOUCH ME." Emery ordered in a low voice, not having the strength to scream anymore and rolled on the bed away from Jon when he made a grab for her.
Jon's blood was officially on fire and he lunged for Emery, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug and squeezed. "Listen here, Colfax," He growled in her ear, tightening his hold when she began squirming, feeling her tense against him. "If you want to make it long enough to go back to prison, I suggest you behave yourself because, right now, I'm not feeling very charitable." She had a hell of a smack on her for sure.
There was no point in fighting him off because she had zero energy from lack of sustenance in her body and the fact she more than likely caught a bug of some kind. It was probably due to her infected wrist, which she still had pinned against her chest and Jon's arm covered it while holding her tightly. He was spooning her actually, if one wanted to get technical about the position.
"I won't be going back to prison, asshole, because I'm innocent." Emery gritted out, ignoring the current pain she was in and shut her eyes. "But I know you will for what you're doing to me now – both of you." All Emery could hope and pray for was that Annalise didn't fall for Joseph Anoa'i's tricks or else she would be in trouble.
"Optimistic that you're getting out of here, aren't you Killer? That's the spirit, keep fighting." Jon cooed in her ear, laughing darkly when he felt her squirming against him. "It'll make it that much more delicious when I finally break you."
"Hold out your wrist so I can tend it." Joe ordered, eyeballing her shrewdly. "Unless you'd rather we just chop it off?"
"Fuck off, asshole #2."
Emery was tired of being victimized and spat in Joe's face, an evil laughter soon following. She watched Joe slowly wipe the saliva from his face, grey eyes turning to pure steel. Cold iron. She wanted nothing to do with anybody Colby Lopez was linked to, including these two mongrels. They were convinced she murdered their precious buddy and Emery was starting to wonder if maybe she had, just not remembering it. No, she wasn't capable of murder. Self-defense yes, but definitely not murder.
"And trust me, if being in solitary confinement for 6 months didn't break me, nothing you do to me will, asshole #1."
"So you think." Jon sing-songed, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her while using his free hand to pry her injured wrist away from her chest. "Okay big man, fix Killer up."
Fixing the murderess up included her wounds being scoured open with anti-bacterial soap to extract all the pus. Once she started bleeding and it was nothing except the red substance, Joe followed that up with a whiskey bath, not surprised when Emery let out a scream. Even he tended to do some serious flinching at that one since whiskey burnt like nothing else. That was followed up with Neosporin and some wrap.
"Padded cuffs might be an idea."
"Sounds kinky, I like it."
Emery had never felt so much pain in her life, trembling from head to toe while lying on the bed with her throbbing wrist pressed to her chest. "You don't need to cuff me, period. Because I'm not leaving here until I prove to both of you I'm innocent and didn't kill your buddy."
Swallowing hard, Emery felt like razor blades were piercing her throat and continued staring up at the ceiling. There was nothing to go on, but Emery would find a way to prove her innocence, no matter what she had to do or how long it took. Since these two were hell-bent on making her life miserable, she decided it would be best not to fight them and instead show them the truth.
"Asshole #2, leave Annalise out of this. She has nothing to do with me being here and the less she knows about it, the better."
"See, if you really want me to do that, calling me asshole is not the way to do it." Joe informed her, his tone pure ice. "In fact, cooperating is probably your best bet. Until you can play nicely, Annalise and I are going to continue getting... better acquainted."
Even by Jon's morally bankrupt standards, that was cold and devious blackmail. Messing with the friend to get to the enemy, but... again, desperate times. He moved away from Emery, studying her thoughtfully. She wasn't going to be any good to them dead, after all.
"You have fun for a while, Killer. One of us will be back later to keep you company." Jon patted her head on his way out the door, deciding they had to feed and water their new pet.
For the next week, Emery continued being tortured verbally and psychologically by Jon and Joe, the videos and voiceovers slowly getting to her. She ignored most of it, instead racking her brain trying to figure out what happened the night of Colby's murder. Why had she slept for 15 hours and how was she supposed to prove her innocence to Colby's friends, who were demanding her to admit she committed the crime? Emery looked at her still bandaged wrist, knowing she'd more than likely have a scar from the handcuff biting into her skin. The only thing Jon and Joe hadn't done was cuff her to the bed; they wouldn't as long as she continued cooperating. This was getting old fast, being stuck in this room with her bag of clothes she brought with and nothing to occupy her mind. It was just like solitary confinement had been, only she had no idea how long they would keep her here against her will.
"So as fun as this is, Jonny boy, we're not getting anywhere with her, besides maybe slowly destroying her mind. I want her to confess to what she did."
Joe did not bother glancing at the monitor. He had been sending e-mails and text messages back and forth with Annalise, both as himself and Emery. As far as Annalise knew, Emery was having a grand old time, or at least, that's what he reported.
"So, you want me to go play bad cop with her, is that what you're saying?" Honestly, there was no good cop in this situation. Jon was busy reading through all the case files and evidence they were able to get their hands on, trying to piece together what had obviously been missed. "I can do that."
Emery didn't move when the door to her room swung open and shut, the lock once again sliding into place. Just the smell alone, she knew who was in the room with her, not bothering to look in Jon's direction. It was a mixture of cigarettes, musk and gasoline – very intoxicating. Why Emery thought that was beyond her, but she would be lying if she said she didn't find Jon to be a beautiful man. Still, he was her enemy and Colby Lopez's friend. Just like Joseph Anoa'i. They were not trustworthy. The bed dipped in front of her and Emery remained against the iron headboard, folding her legs Indian style. What did he want now? How many times would it take for him to start believing that maybe – just maybe – she didn't kill Colby? Jon studied Emery thoughtfully, noticing she didn't look sickly anymore. Probably helped by the fact he had decided to resemble something vaguely human and fed her regularly. It wasn't the best fare, but better than whatever she had had in prison.
"So... Killer," He began, seeing her shoulders tense, knowing how much she hated that title and merely flashed an angelic smile that was definitely out of place on his face. "Let's review again the night Colby died, shall we?" Jon would make her repeat herself and defend her ridiculous slept for 15 hours straight alibi yet again.
Once again, Emery told him the same story she'd told everyone else, nothing changing about it, not a single detail. "I know 15 hours is a long time to sleep. That's why Annalise took me to the ER because she said I was out of it and groggy. I don't remember anything past getting in my car and driving back to the apartment the day Colby was killed. And I know you don't believe me and you shouldn't because it does sound like bullshit, but it's also the truth. I did not murder him. I don't know how to shoot a gun and, if you wanna take me to a gun range, I'll prove it to you." Emery didn't know how else to prove her innocence to these men. "Hell, I even have my test results from the ER that morning with the time and everything."
"That doesn't mean jack shit. A kid can have dead on aim when it matters." Jon argued, stroking his chin while mulling over her words, her story. "You honestly believe you slept for 15 hours straight? Even you said you were groggy and out of it the next day. How the fuck do you not know if you did something during those hours and then just returned to bed?"
This is what Jon didn't get or understand; how this could have flown by any of the jury. She had walked on a technicality because she could not prove she was where she said she had been, and those text messages meant nothing. There was no options anymore and Emery felt like a broken record.
"I don't know what you want from me! I don't know what you want me to say or do! Actually, yes, I know what you WANT me to say, but I'm not saying it because I DIDN'T kill him. After everything he put me through, none of you understand the amount of hell Colby Lopez forced me to endure." Emery lowered her eyes from Jon and shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself shivering at the awful memories. They still plagued her nightmares at least once a week. "You see Colby as this victim when you don't know the real person he was – the monster he was. All you see is a friend that was gunned down and you're so hell-bent on believing it was his ex-fiancée of all people! I don't get it. Yes, it was outside of my apartment building, but did it ever occur to your stupid ass that I was set up? That maybe – just maybe – that abusive psycho rapist had enemies you knew NOTHING about? Oh no, of course not because he's perfect in your eyes, huh?" Rolling her eyes, Emery lulled her head back and shut her eyes, trying to stop shaking from so many emotions coursing through her at once. "I hate him. I hate Colby Lopez and I hope he's burning in all eight circles of hell."
Joe had been idly monitoring their conversation when he heard a strangled scream and turned to look. It hadn't come from Emery, which he had been expecting as she continued running down their dead friend, but from Jon. His eyes widened when Jon actually lunged forward and wrapped his large hands around Emery's relatively slim throat.
"Shit!" He flew out of the monitor room to go stop Jon from becoming a killer himself.
