I Write Sins, Not Tragedies [An Emmett Cullen Love Story]

Chapter Fifteen

I Write Sins, Not Tragedies 

Chapter Fifteen: Buy Me Some Time

"Emmett, Carlisle gave me crutches for a reason." I hiss as Emmett lifted my broken form out of his monster Jeep effortlessly. A few weeks had passed since the attack and I was now able to move around with the effort of what I refer to the as my torture canes. "I can walk, you know."  

The ride here in a bumpy off-roading Jeep probably wasn't Emmett's brightest of ideas, each bump sent pain shooting through my nerves, though I stubbornly bit my lip and said nothing the entire time. Emmett spoke as he carried me the long gravel drive; "I know you can, Louie, but I don't have three hours." 

I sneered silently at him and crossed my arms. There was no argument, I was slow; but I considered being handicap a valid excuse. Emmett was speedy and swift in his movements, but still careful not to give me motion sickness on top of everything else. After a few moments I recognized all the other Cullen cars in the drive showing that we were the last to arrive. "Emmett, is this the driveway?" 

Emmett smiled down at my amazed expression, "Yeah. I told you I didn't have three hours. It's quite the distance, isn't it?" 

I nodded silently until I had grown tired of only the sound of crunching gravel beneath his feet. "How long has it been since you've lived here?" 

Emmett frowned, pondering. "I don't know exactly. Long enough so that no one will remember our faces or names. Everyone from before his dead now; it has probably been about seventy-five or eighty years." 

"Wow!" I gasped, unable to swallow it. "How old are you?!" 

Emmett chuckled. "I only lived here for a few days last time, Mary." 

"That doesn't answer my question." 

Emmett sighed. "I don't want to freak you out, Mary." 

I put on a cute face. "I promise I won't get scared." 

Emmett frowned and took in a deep breath that I highly doubted he needed in the first place. "I was born in 1915, my real name was Emmett Dale McCarty." He paused checking my face, I gave away no emotion so he continued, satisfied. "I lived in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. I was part of a large Scotch-Irish family and was the youngest of all my brothers." 

I quieted my amazement and asked; "What were you like back then, Mr. Emmett McCarty?" 

Emmett smiled. "Much like I am now, I guess. It is hard to remember that long ago." I laughed a little before he continued. "I worked on the railroad with my brothers for a living, and that was how I spent most of my days.  

"My parents considered me the wild child, and to be fair I did like to gamble and drink and I loved the ladies." Emmett flashed a grin and I gave him another appreciative laugh. "But they loved me none the less." 

Emmett sighed, getting to the real part I had been curious about. "One afternoon my brothers and I had gone out for some sport hunting. And of course, we had bet on who could bring home the biggest catch; I had wondered off on my own. 

"It wasn't long, a few hours maybe, until I had come on a mother black bear and one of her cubs. I was stupid back then, I thought it was something I could take on my own, even with my inexperience. I pulled out my gun just as the mother bear had spotted me..." 

Emmett looked down and saw the look on my face, it was almost impossible for me to hide my horror at the scene he was painting for me. I was thankful when he chuckled a little nervously and spoke, "I'll spare you those gory details." 

Emmett sighed, continuing after my face had relaxed a little. "It was Rosalie that found me and brought me back to Carlisle; and that is how I became this."