His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) Page 4
"I look a mess," I mutter unhappily, bending down to retrieve my wet clothes from the floor. I place them over the heaters in an attempt to dry them. Next I have to tackle my face.
I decide to remove all my makeup as it's already ruined, streaking down my cheeks. A bruise that hasn't faded yet underneath my eye stares back at me. It's definitely noticeable but to me I can see it stick out like a sore thumb. I sigh and rummage through my bag looking for anything to cover it up.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I glance at the bruise again. I'd hide behind my hair and If anyone asked, I'd say I hit myself in the face with something. I open the door and stepped out into a silent, deserted lobby.
Great, now I'm late to class too.
Ditching for the day looked appealing to me but the rain continued to pound down outside and Trevor was at home so I didn't have anywhere else to go. Besides I'm in shorts three sizes too big for me — I'd end up freezing.
I slowly walk to my classroom, pulling at Jake's clothes feeling insecure. I push open the classroom door and greeted thirty set of eyes, thirty one if you count Mrs Wilkins. My face blushes and I stare at my feet, feeling extremely self conscious. A few sniggers broke out around the class and I look up to meet Mrs Wilkins amused face.
"Take a seat Emily." She gestures towards the only empty seat and I nod, my face burning up immensely.
Trish is staring directly at me, her eyes shining brightly with amusement. I scowl at her and sit beside her quickly. Placing my bag underneath the desk, I glance to my right and my eyes met Jake's. He's leaning back in his chair, one arm draped around the back of it. The other is resting on the table in front of him.
He stares at me before his lips finally twitch up into a smile. I can feel his eyes scanning over me . . . over his clothes. They wonder down my body before gliding back up again and I feel my cheeks burn in embarrassment. I narrow my eyes and stick my tongue out at him childishly. In return he laughs a low sexy chuckle causing me to grin back at him.
Woah Emily, since when is Jake sexy?
I clear my throat and tear my gaze off him before turning towards Trish. She's looking between me and Jake with a confused expression. I shrug in denial, hoping she wouldn't question me over him.
"Wait for me after class, okay?" She whispers and I nod silently, paying attention Mrs Wilkins as she reaches the lesson. No doubt Trish wants to talk to me about the thing between me and Jake but the truth it . . .
I don't know what it is either.
*****
I remain behind after class to catch up on classwork I’ve missed when I hear the door open and shut. I glance up from my papers to see Jake leaning against the door. He simply stood there, his arms folded across his chest as he watches me.
"Are you going to stand there all day and stare at me or actually do something?" My voice trails off with a playful smile on my face.
"I came to tell you to keep the clothes."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I feel slightly taken aback.
"I was going to give them back to you," I tell him quietly. He shakes his head, his lips twitching into a smirk. From across the room I can still make out the sparkle in his cobalt eyes.
"They look better on you."
I feel the blush instantly creep up my neck and onto my cheeks as I stare at my papers, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Jake. My stomach flutters from his words and I have to bite down on my lip to stop myself smiling.
I see Jake walk towards me from the corner of my eye and sit a few seats away from me, swinging his legs on top of the table. My eyes widen at his actions but he appears unfazed as he pulls out his phone from his pockets.
This boy is dangerous and here I am, alone with him.
The silly thing is I don't feel scared. It isn't the same fearful feeling when Trevor is in my presence. I nod slowly to myself.
"It's completely different," I mutter as it dawned on me how petrified I am of Trevor. I mean the man terrifies me.
"What's different?"
"Nothing, never mind. I'm thinking out loud." I explain quietly, hiding my face behind my hair so he couldn't see the blush on my cheeks.
"Do you do that often?" Jake responds, humour lining his voice. My blush deepens and I know he's teasing me.
"Only when I'm nervous."
"Why do I make you nervous?"
"You don't." I lied.
"Now you're contradicting yourself Muffin. You told me you only do it when your nervous so why are you nervous?"
"Don't call me Muffin."
"I like Muffin, Muffin suits you."
I scowl, looking up for the first time to show him the effect his pet name has on me.
"I hate it."
"What would you prefer I call you?"
He's looking at me intensely, eyes sparkling in my direction. Moments pass and I feel the air grow thick between us as we silently stare at one another from one end of the classroom to the other.
"Emily?" I finally whisper, clearing my throat. I want my voice to sound confident but it fails miserably.
"Emily is what everyone else calls you."
"It's kind of my name."
"No, I'll stick with Muffin. It's cute, like you."
I shake my head, my lips twitching up into a smile. Jake sits back and grins widely at me, looking like he's won the argument. I look at him from under my lashes and when I do, his eyes narrow and the smile on his face vanishes. My heart begins to pick up pace as I watch his features turn to stone.
He swings his legs off the table and begins to walk slowly towards me, like a predator after it's prey. My heart hammered against my chest as he crouches down, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into mine. His head is tilted slightly and his eyes appear emotionless, miles away from the playful glint in them previously. His alluring scent hit me and I could feel my head spin, throwing me off balance.
I swallow nervously, my gaze flickering back up to his eyes. They are so beautiful. Dark and mysterious, with a story to tell. Swirls of blue mixed in with his eyes and I find myself feeling lost in them, almost as if I'm in a dream induced daze. My breathing hitches as Jake inches a little closer.
"Where did you get that bruise?"
His voice is blunt, snapping me straight out of the daze I'm in. Disappointment settles inside my stomach. Oh right, the bruise.
"Emily, where did you get the bruise?" He repeats, growing impatient. I stare straight back at him and without hesitation, reply in a bored, monotone voice —
"I'm clumsy, I fell down some steps yesterday."
Jake studies me for a second, a deep frown on his face.
"You're lying to me."
I immediately felt a lump lodge itself inside my throat, restricting me from being able to defend myself.
"I'm not lying." I whisper.
A look of hurt flashes through his eyes before he stands up, walking away from me and towards the door. He swings it open but before he leaves, he turns around and stares straight into my eyes.
“Bullshit." Jake calls me out, his voice low. He doesn't wait for me to reply and pulls his hood over his head, disappearing from the doorway. He leaves me alone in the room, my heart hammering against my chest.
That's when his words dawn on me.
He's the first person to know I'm lying.
Chapter Seven - Numb.
I stop off at the local chemist after college and look around the shelves for something to ease the pain in my stomach. I desperately need something to numb the agony. I'm still dressed in Jake's clothes, my own still damp inside my bag.
"Can I help you?" A voice asks, directing the question at me. I snap out of my little daze and turn to face a worker in her early forties, smiling at me.
"Yes please. My brother is a boxer and he's in pain with his stomach. I wondered if you had anything to help him?" I lie, knowing I'm babbling way too much. I can't help it, I'm a crappy liar.
"Has he been tr
eated professionally?" She asks me, frowning a little. My eyes widen at her question and I feel my heart pick up pace.
"Y-yes but he's also been recommended to take painkillers, strong ones," I mumble quietly, staring at the floor.
"Follow me," she responds politely, disappearing down an aisle. I breathe a sigh of relief, following her in the same direction she disappeared.
"Tell him to take these three times a day after food. They are strong painkillers so no more than three," she informed me strictly. I nodded and thanked her, paid for the tablets and left the chemist. Once I was outside and around the corner, I immediately swallowed two without water.
"Please help me," I whisper, shuffling myself in the direction of home.
*****
I'm halfway up the stairs when Trevor stops me, slurring his words once again.
"What the fuck are you wearing?" He yells up the stairs. I turn slowly, feeling exhausted from the day. Much to my dismay, my heart begins to pick up speed in fear.
Trevor is stood at the bottom of the stairs in his pyjamas even though it's the afternoon. Slob. I can feel him glaring straight at me, eyes burning holes through mine. He was clearly growing impatient, his foot tapping against the floor.
"It was raining this morning so I changed into some dry clothes," I explain myself quietly, signalling at Jake's clothes. I turn back around, wanting to escape to my room as soon as I could.
"You filthy slut. You disgust me."
Filthy slut?
"What did you just call me?" I ask, turning back around and narrowing my eyes at him.
"You're a filthy slut. Do you let every boy have a go on you in school?" He snaps back, his eyes flashing with hatred for me. I don't miss the smirk that grew on his lips as he tore me down with his words.
I immediately feel my chest tighten with anger.
My fists clench by my sides and I narrow my eyes into thin slits, staring directly at him.
See the hatred in my eyes for you.
I can feel my chest rising up and down as anger and adrenaline swirled together, becoming dangerous. Without thinking about my actions, I spit down, aiming directly for his face. I was taught growing up that it was the most disrespectful dirty thing to do.
That's exactly why Trevor deserved it.
My spit lands directly above his lips and slides down onto his upper lip.
"Bullseye!" I grin, feeling proud of my work. Trevor's whole body tenses up and he flares his nostrils at me, getting ready to charge like a raging bull.
I immediately turn and bolt up the remaining stairs, heading for my bedroom door. I quickly lock it, pushing the chest of drawers in front of the door.
My heart continues to pound and it isn't long before Trevor hammers on it with his fists, hard. The door threatens to come off it's hinges and I stare wide eyed at them. It's the only thing separating me from the beast. Please go away.
He's raging behind the door, screaming at me so much, I can't make out the words. I imagine him frothing at the mouth, fists slamming into the wood. He suddenly stops, silence filling the house. I can hear my heart beating inside of my ears and I frown, leaning closer to the door.
"What has she done this time honey?" Mum asks him, her voice small and timid. The fact that she doesn't stop him sickens me to the core. Imagine the person who is supposed to protect you the fiercest in this world, standing back and allowing such pain to come to you.
"I hate her!" Trevor hisses and I roll my eyes at his immature behaviour. I listen as he murmurs something else, much quieter this time. I can't make out the words but whatever he said causes Mum to grow silent. I frown deeper at the door —
What is happening?
Moments pass and I hear Trevor retreat back down the stairs, his feet slamming down hard onto the steps in rage. He's leaving me alone?
"I swear it to you, I will kill her slowly if she gets in my way again!"
My blood runs cold at his words.
My hands begin shaking profusely and I drop my bag to the floor in shock. My phone and clothes spill out but I don't care. I walk over to my bed and slide down onto the floor beside it, feeling my body and mind turn completely numb. Kill me.
The thing that disgusted me the most was that my own mother didn't disagree with him. She didn't argue back or stick up for me. A normal mother would call the police, kick him out the house in fear for their daughter's safety.
I feel bile rise to the back of my throat and run to the bathroom, nearly missing the toilet bowl. My eyes sting and I let out a tiny gasp, kneeling against the toilet for support. Tears roll down my cheek and I whimper, my entire body shaking in fright.
The constant years of abuse finally began to hit me all at once and I fing it impossible to breathe. Every single beating runs through my mind, Trevor's cruel taunts and evil eyes.
I have to get away from here.
Where would I go? Trevor would find me.
I have no choice, I'm trapped.
The thought of Trevor continuing to beat me, (if not worse) sent chills running through my entire body. I lay against the cold tiles, pulling my knees to my chest and shivering in fright.
"Please God, let this all end." I cry out, my chest heaving with sobs. My father's face flashes through my mind and I yell out, kicking the wall opposite me in frustration. I know it wasn't his fault but I couldn't help think this wouldn't have happened if he didn't die.
"Why Dad, why?!" I yell at the bathroom ceiling, feeling my cheeks soaked with tears.
"Why did you leave me?" I whimper quietly, tugging at my hair. Despite the strands being locked around my fingers, I feel no pain. Instead my thoughts begin to swirl around my head, going so fast I can barely understand what's going on around me. I feel my sanity slipping away second by second and my heart rate goes insane from fear and anger.
My jaw clenches tightly and I tug at my hair harder, feeling anger towards myself.
Why am I not strong?
If only I could find the strength to expose Mum and Trevor but I am weak. Ever since my father left me alone in this cruel world, I began to slowly fall apart. A piece of me chipped away day by day and I had come to realise that I didn't even recognise myself anymore.
I'm a broken shell that was once the loving and fun Emily Wentworth.
Its like a sudden switch goes off inside me and I suddenly feel numb. Numb to the pain and heartache taking over my body.
The most terrifying emotion a person can feel is absolutely nothing. Feeling nothing means you simply don't care anymore. You don't care about yourself and that is more dangerous than someone holding a gun at your temple, ready to shoot. You feel no fear, no anger, no pain.
I slump backwards against the tiles, my eyes staring straight ahead in a daze. I don't know how long I remain like that.
I don't know whether it's minutes, hours or days.
Eventually my eyes flicker shut and I see darkness. I fall into a sleep, feeling absolutely nothing.
Chapter Eight - The loneliness hits me like a ton of bricks.
Light streams in through the window, settling around me like a protective halo. My eyes slowly flutter open and I groan, squeezing them shut tightly. The sunlight is too bright for my sensitive vision. My eyes are stinging and I can barely keep them open for any longer than a few seconds.
I murmur weakly, my voice croaky and low. I listen out carefully for any noise, my body shaking in fear. Silence surrounds me, the feeling of loneliness hitting me like a ton of bricks.
I'm lying on the bathroom floor, my head resting against the tiles in an uncomfortable position. My entire body aches and burns from any slight movement.
My eyes fill with tears as reality hits me.
I'm forced to continue living this nightmare.
I inhale deeply before gripping tightly onto the toilet seat as I attempt to lift myself up. My legs wobble underneath me unsteadily and my arms begin to shake vigorously from the strain.
All I want to do right now is sleep.
r /> My body is screaming at me to give in and rest from weeks, years of being mistreated.
I shuffle over and lower myself carefully in the shower, sitting cross legged on the shower floor. The second the warm water washes over my body, I feel my shoulders slump in relief. I spent the next half hour in the shower, feeling completely numb to the world.
I feel disorientated from my exhaustion and the heat from the shower. My body sways as I crawl to my bed, opening up my nightstand drawer and taking two sleeping tablets.
I dress into clean pyjamas and bury myself deep inside my bed surrounded by blankets. The clock on my bedside table reads 10am. The thought of attending school makes me nauseous, my stomach churning.
I pull the duvet around me and snuggle in, breathing in the familiar scent. Barely a minute passes before my body finally gives in and I fall into a deep much needed sleep.
*****
I wake up to the sound of my phone going off, over and over again. I groan and reach out for it on my bedside table but it's not in its usual place. I sigh and slowly sit up, my body screaming in pain. It's dark outside and my clock reads 11pm. I slept through the whole day.
"Wow, that's a new record for me." I mutter. I crawl onto the floor towards my phone which is by my door. The screen is brightly lit up, alerting me that I have several missed calls and numerous amount of texts. I let out a small groan as I reach over for it. My arms can barely support my weight and I feel myself grow light headed. I know I'm about to pass out if I don't rest so I shuffle back towards my bed, phone in hand. I press the home button and wince at the screen. I am so not ready to face brightness.
I have ten texts from Trish, asking if I'm okay and whether I'll be coming into college. As the texts progress, Trish begins to believe I'm beginning to ignore her and don't want to be friends anymore. I let out a small laugh at how overreactive the girl can be sometimes. After texting her back and letting her know I'm fine and our friendship is fine, I scroll along to my next text message.
It's from Ivory, asking whether I'm okay as I don't usually skip a day. I smile at her concern and respond to her, again letting her know that I'm fine.