Emily Freedman P.O.V.
Is it wrong to say that I've never been so mesmerized by another person as I am by Matthew Benson? His eyes certainly don't hurt, but it's more just the way he is.
"So what you made you decide to become a cheerleader? Was it my winning good looks?" Matt smirks at me, taking another sip of his beer. I giggle and take another sip as well. I know I'm actually getting pretty drunk and for the first time in my entire life, I'm not sad about it.
"Or the fact that Madison Colfer would have me skinned alive if I refused," I smile, rolling my eyes.
He frowns for a second. "You know I want to believe that you're a normal person, but the fact that your friends with her isn't very convincing."
"You're quick to judge," I observe, staring him down. He doesn't seem flinch. Instead he raises his eyebrow at me.
"I've actually been observing her for the past three years of my life," he says.
"That's actually kind of creepy," I say, smiling a little. He rolls his eyes at me.
"Not how I meant it. It's just, these kids are the most self-entitled people I have ever met. Maybe you don't see it yet, but you can't let your guard down around them. I've seen what they've done to people," he says, staring into the distance for a second. I have a feeling he's remembering something unpleasant.
"What do you mean?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.
He shakes his head and takes out his cell phone. "Oh fuck, it's after 1 A.M.. I need to go. Do you need a ride home?"
"You're driving?" I ask him, nervously. I don't want to freak him out, but I will never be okay with drunk driving.
"No, Bobby is. He's the goalie. He doesn't drink," he says, standing up. He offers me his hand. As I take it, I feel all the blood rush to my face. My heartbeat picks up and I have a strange feeling in my stomach. Is this what having a crush feels like?
"I'm sleeping at Madison's house, thanks though. My brother would probably freak out if he knew I was drinking anyway. I didn't even tell him I was going to a party," I tell him as I get to my feet. I awkwardly release his hand after holding it for a second too long.
"Well…I'll see you on Monday," he nods to me, before going back into the party.
I can hardly keep the grin off my face as I turn out to face the sound. I let out a little scream and I could roll my eyes at myself. I'm acting ridiculous, and for the first time since I can remember, I don't care. I don't know the last time I felt this comfortable around another person besides Diego, and that took years.
I look down at my phone to see a text from Madison.
Madison: WHERE ARE YOU? JAMIE IS MAD AT ME, PLZ HELP
Normally I would roll my eyes at the dramatics of a high school relationship, but tonight is different. It's Funny how much a simple conversation can mean. Even if we didn't talk about anything of importance.
The party has mostly emptied out since I went outside two hours ago. I notice a few couples making out on couches, and my nose wrinkles in disgust. Seriously? I guess these parties aren't that different than the ones from home.
I see Jamie in the corner with Trent and a couple of other soccer guys. I walk over to them, noticing that my walk is a little crooked in Madison's heels. Yeah, I'm definitely drunk.
"Jamie," I say behind him, suddenly a little nervous.
He gives me his award-winning smile as he turns around. "Emily, what can I do for you?"
His eyes stay on my cleavage for a bit too long, but I decide to ignore him.
"I'm actually trying to find Madison," I say to him. I'm trying to get this conversation over with. "She said she was upset."
He looks at me for a second and doesn't say anything. What the fuck? Did he not hear me?
As I'm about to repeat myself he interrupts me.
"Oh yeah…she's upstairs. Here, I'll show you," he says, placing his hand on the small of my back. I shrug out of his touch and start to head up the stairs with him close behind me.
"What room is she in?" I ask him, and he stares at me again. If I'm drunk, he must be wasted.
"Jamie," I snap. This is just getting annoying.
He finally motions to a bedroom door. Something about his smirk is making me ridiculously uncomfortable. I ignore the pit on my stomach and knock on the door.
"Madison?" I call out. I don't hear anything and decide to open the door.
I take a step into the large room and feel around for the light switch. But before I can find it I hear the door close behind me. I turn around and I'm suddenly face to face with Jamie.
"What are you doing?" I ask, aware of the hesitation in my voice. My legs are shaking with fear.
He reaches out and grabs a piece of my hair, twirling it around in his fingers. Too familiar. I close my eyes for a second to fight back at the nausea.
"Jamie," I snap, hitting his hand away. This can't be happening. Not again. "Where is Madison? Where is your girlfriend?"
He smirks at me again. "Baby, do I look like I give a fuck? I know you wanted me that day at the coffee shop."
His words actually sting, because he's right. I did want him that day I first met him. But that was before I knew him.
"Jamie, you're drunk. Madison loves you. She is my friend," I say, trying to walk around him. He grabs both of my arms and slams me into the wall behind me. He slams me so hard that my head hits against the wall.
The pain vibrates through my entire body.
He looks down at me again before he starts kissing my neck. My knees start to buckle out from under me. No. Do not black out. Do not let this happen.
I shove against his chest. "Get off of me!" But he's strong. My shoving only seems to irritate him, because he grabs my arms and pins them against the wall.
This cannot be happening. The tears start flowing from my eyes as he starts trying to kiss my mouth. Suddenly I'm hysterical.
"LET GO OF ME," I shout, my legs flailing out. I suddenly sink to the ground and begin screaming. This isn't happening again.
Jamie looks at me with a look of utter disgust.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he asks. MY problem?
But I can't even think of that.
"If you ever touch me again, I will kill you," I say, before I push myself off the ground.
I barely make it out of Trent's front door before I throw up everything in my stomach. I'm almost positive that this has nothing to do with the alcohol in my body.
I pull out my phone and wait for him to answer.
Christian Grey P.O.V.
A knock on my door pulls me out of my sleep. What the fuck does Taylor want at 2:04 in the morning?
"Christian," Ana groans, looking towards the door.
"Shh, baby, it's fine," I say, kissing her forehead and grabbing a pair of sweats from my drawer.
I open the door to see Taylor holding his cell phone.
"Ms. Freedman says she tried to ring your phone multiple times, but that you must not have heard it so she found my name in her contact list. She seems upset, sir," Taylor says, handing me the phone.
I nearly rip it out of his hand.
"Christ, Emily it's after two in the morning. Is everything alright?" I ask, although I'm pretty sure that's a stupid question. I doubt she's calling to say hello.
"Christian," she sobs into the phone, and I immediately panic. "Can you please come get me? I can't stay here." She's hysterical.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong? I'll come get you from the Colfer's house right now," I say, looking at Taylor. He nods to me, silently agreeing to join me.
"No," she sniffles. "Please don't be mad, but we went to a party. That's where I am right now."
I run my hands through my hair before I speak. "Where the fuck are you Emily?" I snap.
I hear her cry harder and I realize that I probably shouldn't be so harsh. Something serious is going on.
"I'm sorry, where are you?" I try again, this time my voice much softer.
"Trent Zailor's house. I don't know the address, he's one of the boys on the soccer team. Please just come get me," she sobs again.
"Taylor, get me the address of Trent Zailor. Emily, we're coming now, okay?"
"Mhm," she cries again. "I'll be outside." She says, as the line cuts off.
"Christian, what's wrong? Is Emily alright?" Ana asks, tying her robe.
I run my hands through my hair again. "I don't know. She's at a party and I'm pretty sure she's drunk. I'm going to kill her."
Ana looks at me for a second and then runs her hand down my face. "Christian, please just remember that she called you for a reason. Be easy on her tonight."
"I will, baby. Just stay here, okay?" I say, pulling her to my chest. I never knew another person would be able to bring me this much comfort.
"I've located the address," Taylor says, and I reluctantly pull away from Ana.
"Good. I'll drive," I say, grabbing the keys off the coffee table in the foyer.
On the ride over neither Taylor or I speak. Despite the time of the night I am surprisingly alert. I want to believe that Emily has just had too much to drink and that she needs to sleep in her own bed. But something inside me knows that isn't the case. I know she wouldn't just call me for that. Something has to be wrong.
We pull into a nice neighborhood on the sound, not far from the house Ana and I bought. The streets are winding and it takes us about five minutes to approach the street. As we pull up, I can immediately spot Trent Zailor's house.
The driveway is filled with expensive cars all parked haphazardly. It's literally the poster of reckless teenagers and their expensive vehicles. The large front lawn is littered with cans of beer and solo cups, and I finally spot my sister sitting on a large rock.
Her outfit is enough to make my blood boil. She's all legs in a tight black dress and heels, with her make-up running down her face. I'm reminded of my college years and watching girls take "walks of shame."
I get out of the car and slam the door with Taylor following closely behind me.
"Emily?" I call out as patiently as I can, stopping a few feet in front of her.
She looks up at me hesitantly and I can tell that she's been really crying. Fuck. I have no idea what to do in this situation.
Before I can even react she launches herself at me, stumbling slightly in her heels. She throws her arms around me and buries her face in my chest. I immediately freeze, but if she notices than she doesn't seem to care. I rub her back and instinctively kiss the top of her head.
"Hey, Emily, what happened? You're okay now," I say, trying to soothe her. She just shakes her head and tightens her hold on me. This is the first time we've ever embraced, and it's almost comforting.
After two minutes she looks up at me and wipes her tears.
"I'm sorry," she sniffles, "I just didn't know who else to call."
"Hey," I say, taking her face in my hands. I gently tilt her head up so she has to meet my gaze. "I'm always going to be here for you sweetheart. When you need me, I'm there."
For some reason my words make her cry harder and for a moment I fear that I've said the wrong thing. But then she looks up at me.
"There's something I need to tell you but I'm afraid that you're going to make me leave after I say it," she whispers, rubbing her eyes again. She starts to sob again
"Shh, Emily, you can tell me anything, okay? But let's get you home first," I say, and bend down to grab her. I lift her easily into my arms and toss the keys to Taylor. I sit in the back seat with her and she lays her head on my chest. I rub her back while she continues to cry.
By the time we pull back up at Escala she has finally stopped crying.
"Do you need me to carry you or can you walk?" I ask her, not trying to insult her.
"I can walk," she says quietly, climbing out of the car.
When we enter the foyer she looks at me for a second.
"Can I talk to Ana too? If she's gonna know what happened then I at least want her to hear it from me," Emily whispers, refusing to make my eye contact.
"Yeah, I'll go get her. Why don't you go get changed and meet us back down here," I offer, and she nods and heads up the stairs.
Ten minutes later the three of us are sitting in the kitchen sipping on tea.
Emily looks down at her cup as she speaks.
"My dad…my dad wasn't a bad person. I know that somewhere deep down he loved me," she begins, and I'm already annoyed. If that fucker abused her I will seriously lose it.
"But drugs made him do a lot of bad things. He would steal and spend all our money and never pay the pills. But he always tried to get clean for me. He just wasn't strong enough. Um my dad, a lot of his friends were bad though. They weren't like my dad. They were bad without the drugs too," she says, wiping at the tears from her eyes.
Ana drapes her arm around Emily's shoulders and I notice that this time she doesn't flinch.
"It's okay," Ana whispers and Emily nods.
"I'm fine, sorry. Um, don't think I'm a slut, but I was nine the time I had my first kiss. And it was with my dad's friend Steven. He was thirty eight," as she says this, all the color drains from her face. The tears flow freely from her eyes. I feel my stomach drop. No. I know where this is going.
"He um, made me have sex with him," she sobs, as her body shakes. "He would wait until my dad was too fucked up to notice or care and then he would sneak into my bedroom and…when I was twelve I bought a lock. But that made him angry. I used to have this little dog named Jingles. He was a mutt but he was one of the only things my dad ever gave me. Anyway, after I put the lock on my door…" she trails off and catches another sob in her throat. "After I put the lock on my door he strangled Jingles and left his body on my bed. And he told me that if I ever tried to stop him again that he would do something even worse to me."
"When I was younger I would try and fight him. I would scream and he would hit me and tie me up. But as I got older I just stopped fighting. When I was thirteen he got evicted from our building. Luckily he came around less and I only saw him about once or twice a month," she trails off, her eyes lost in thought.
I feel sick. I was worried about a high school boy wanting to fuck my sister and yet an adult had raped her through out her childhood.
Ana's face is completely drained. She grabs my hand and squeezes, pleading at me with her eyes.
"Emily, I'm so sorry," I finally say, grabbing her hand across the table.
"Wha—wait, you're not mad?" she asks, stunned.
"I'm furious, but not with you. What that man did to you was despicable and out of your control. But you're safe now," I tell her. And I will make sure of that, sweetheart. I will have that fucker killed.
"You know, I want things to be different here. But they never will be. He told me that he would find me. He told me that I could never be with anybody else. It doesn't matter if I'm halfway across the country because he always finds a way," she says, suddenly panicked.
"Emily, look at me," Ana says, grabbing her face. I try to fight the bile rising in my throat, as well as my desire to murder someone. "We will never let him touch you again. Things are different now. We'll help you."
Emily nods and then looks at me, and I try to give her the best smile I can manage. Because on the inside, the only thing I can feel is the anger to fucking kill the pervert that raped my little sister.