Part 22: Redemption is Harder Than It Looks

Emma lay on the couch, staring at the TV, but not seeing what was going on. She heard the cars revving along, but paid them no mind. All she could think about was that he was downstairs, working on his motorcycle…giving her space. But…did she really want space?

She fought the urge to jump up and run to the door when it opened. Tracker had done his best to avoid her for the last three days. Ever since that damned kiss. She sighed. Why was all this going on? Why had he kissed her? Why had it felt so good? Why did her toes still curl whenever she thought of his lips on hers?

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear him enter the room until he cleared his throat. For the first time in a long time, the sound didn't make her skittish. She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. "Yeah?" she asked casually, though her heart was thumping so loudly that there was a swishing sound in her ears.

"I…uhhh…" Tracker stammered. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm done with the bike, and I thought I'd go down to Dillard's Deli and grab a bite. You want anything?"

She shook her head 'no' and stared blankly at the TV again.

Tracker sighed in irritation. "Are you ever going to talk to me again?" he asked.

"I said, 'yeah' didn't I?" she asked smartly.

He sighed again and went to the TV, shutting it off angrily. "Oh, quit pretending you're watching that damned race!" he shouted, finally getting a reaction from her. She jumped a bit, but refused to show more emotion than that.

"OK…you want to talk…" she said calmly. "So…talk." She instantly regretted looking him in the eyes again. The look she saw there was too intense. She wasn't sure she could fight it. Her gut tightened and her chest tingled a bit. She couldn't back down…couldn't show her weakness…or she'd lose this battle.

"Emma…I…"

Well, at least he was as uncomfortable about this whole thing as she was. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Yet, it seemed like an instant. Neither could tear their eyes away long enough to look at the clock.

Finally, Tracker sighed and walked over to the couch. He took her hand and helped her stand up. Their eyes unlocked only long enough for Tracker to guide her down the small hallway and into his bedroom.

Emma's head swirled. She thought of everything that had happened to her…Aaron…the bracelet game…two rapes…finding out about Sean…there was so much going on. She was a drug addict rape victim! She wasn't worth shit…and yet…Sean and Tracker…they thought she was worth something. No! Not Tracker. Tracker was just feeling sorry for her, right?

He closed the door quietly and turned, their eyes locking again.

"Track…I…this probably won't make things better," she stammered. "In fact, things will get worse."

Suddenly he was right in front of her, staring intensely into her eyes. She couldn't seem to look away. She swallowed hard, unable to speak. She bit her bottom lip, wishing the words would come to her, but her brain seemed to freeze. She finally sighed and started to walk to the door, but he caught her hand. She turned back and looked down at his hand then back into his eyes. Before she could open her mouth to speak, his lips caught hers.

Everything seemed to sweep from Emma's brain. There were fifty reasons why this wouldn't work, yet all fifty flew out the window when his tongue lightly touched hers.

Sean sat on the bed watching the rain splatter against the window. "Damn!" he muttered angrily to himself. Of all the luck!

Today was supposed to be his first day of work. The job wasn't much, but the pay was good. At first, he'd been excited about it…but now he was starting to see why the pay was so good. Weather had to permit before he could actually do his job!

There was a knock at his door and he turned. "Come in!" he called out before turning to stare sadly out the window again.

"Soooo…" Tyler said, walking inside. "No work today, huh?"

Sean sighed and turned to his best friend. "Gee…now what good would it do to paint houses in the rain?!"

Tyler smiled and nodded. "I hear ya', Man."

"How in the hell am I supposed to make money? If I can't make money, I can't prove to Emma I'm worth bothering with!"

Tyler sat down on the windowsill and glared at Sean, crossing his arms angrily. "You know…I'm really getting sick of explaining this to you! If Emma's this awesome person that you claim she is, she aint gonna' give a damn how much money you've got!"

Sean sighed and shook his head. "You don't get it. I have to prove to her that I'm not gonna' run this time."

Tyler raised an eyebrow in confusion. "OK…so…you're going to get a job here, then quit and go back to Toronto…how is that going to prove you're ready to stay in one place."

Sean pulled an envelope from under his mattress. "It won't. But…this might," he said, handing the envelope to his friend.

Tyler scanned the papers and looked up at Sean. "You're serious about this, Cameron?" Sean just nodded.

"Well…I don't…I don't know what to say. I'm proud of you, Man."

Sean gave him a dry look. "Funny, Man."

Tyler shook his head. "I'm serious. You've got a really bad history, and you're working to make your life better, and move past it. It's just…"

"It's just what?"

"It's just…" Tyler sighed. "If you're not doing this for yourself…if it's only for Emma…then it won't work."

"Emma's worth it."

"Yeah? And so are you. Just…just do it for you, or you're going to fail is all I'm saying."

Sean looked out the window again. This wasn't something he wanted to think about! Luckily…"Hey!" Sean said with relief. "The rain let up. I gotta' get to work." He grabbed his jacket and rushed out before Tyler could say another word.

Emma pulled away. She felt hot all over. "Tracker. We can't. This isn't right," she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, his forehead resting against hers. "I'm sorry."

Emma sighed sadly and started to pull away, but his eyes caught hers again. Soon, their lips met again. This time, his kiss was more frantic. Everything seemed necessary…rushed.

He tugged the hem of her shirt, trying to pull it over her head, but she pushed at his hands. "Track…"

"I can't help it," he whispered against her lips. "I know we need to stop, but…" Even as the words came out, he was tugging at the cord that held the waist band of her running pants. "I need you, Emma."

Something inside Emma snapped. It felt like a dam had burst. Before they knew it, they were both naked. Tracker studied her nude body…every scar…every freckle…"God, you're beautiful," he whispered.

"No, I'm not," she replied covering her chest.

Tracker pulled her hands away. "Yeah…you are." He sat up and his lips caught her neck, making her gasp in surprise.

Soon after, Emma's body covered Tracker's. His hands were on her hips, guiding her. Their eyes stayed locked and their soft whispers and moans filled the room.

Emma reveled in the feel of Tracker. She reveled in the fact that this was the first time she'd ever been with someone and actually enjoyed herself. She realized that she wasn't crying in pain and fear.

"Emma!"

Her eyes snapped open in surprise.

Sean stood on the ladder and slid the brush across the side of the house, a frown creasing his forehead. Why would anyone in their right mind paint such a nice house such an ugly shade of blue?

Sean's frown deepened as a memory of Emma's crying face popped into his mind. He remembered those tears from the day she'd thanked him for saving her life. Why had she done that? Why had she thanked him? Didn't she know he'd have taken a bullet to save her life? Didn't she know that all the agony he'd gone through over killing Rick was worth it…just as long as she was alive?

"You saved my life," Emma had almost whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. It was his first hug from her since their breakup.

"Hey, Cameron!"

Sean nearly fell off the ladder when his boss's voice startled him. "Yeah?" he called back down.

"You gonna' paint…or do you plan on standing there like an idiot all day?"

Sean looked down and the paintbrush, the paint already beginning to dry on the bristles. "Sorry…painting," he answered as he dipped the brush into the bucket and pulled back that ugly shade of blue…so gross looking!

"Yeah…well…" his boss smirked. "When you planning on taking a break? All the other guys have been gone almost ten minutes already…and I don't pay you extra just cause you work through supper. Or…should I say 'daydream' through supper?"

Sean cleared his throat and ignored the growling of his stomach. He couldn't mess this up! He needed this job so he could get back to Toronto and prove himself to Emma! "Yeah…about that…I just figured that, since I sort of drifted off, I'd make up for my lost time."

His boss shook his head. "No can do. You got a visitor, and she's been dying to see you."

"Say what? Who?"

His boss shrugged. "Didn't catch her name. She's quite a cute little thing, though."

Sean frowned as he climbed down the ladder. Who could be here to see him? Who even knew he was here?

His boss hooked his thumb. "She's in the office. Says paint fumes make her nauseous."

Sean's confusion grew as he walked into the office. Emma was the only girl he could think of who got nauseous at the smell of wet paint…and that was only when she hadn't eaten breakfast.

"Hi, Sean," the familiar feminine voice nearly whispered.

His head snapped up. "You? What the hell are you doing here?"