*Dawn's POV*
I check my mirrors repeatedly to make sure he was still following me.
When we got to my house, I entered the code to open the gate. It creaked open and we drove in.
I parked my car and told Emory to park next to me.
He stood up and pulled his helmet off. He was very good looking. His hair looked discheveled, his jaw was perfectly chiseled, and his eyes were so captivating. He was beautiful.
"Umm.. Before we go in..." He started.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Well, two things. One, I'm extremely scared seeing as I'm more of a nobody and you live in a mansion of a house. Two, can I borrow some makeup?"
I giggled for a moment, "What?" I asked.
"I know, it sounds funny, but just something to cover the bruises and the redness from my dad." He told me.
"Oh.. Yeah. Just follow me." I said, my laughing stopped.
I carefully snuck him up to my bedroom and locked the door.
"Okay, just stay quiet. If someone hears you in here, I'm screwed." I told him.
He simply nodded and examined the room.
"Your room is huge." He whispered.
"Yeah, that's what happens when your brother tries to rape you. You get a bigger room and a lock on your door." I told him, but paused when I realised what I said.
"What?" He asked.
"Shhh... Nothing..." I told him before I continued to look for my makeup bag.
"Sorry the room's a mess right now." I whispered.
"It's alright. No different from mine."
I looked in my bottom drawer of my vanity. "Here it is!" I exclaimed.
"Can I ask you a question?" Emory asked, his voice still a whisper.
"Sure, what is it?"
"What is your tattoo of?" He pointed at my back as I looked at him through my mirror.
I walked over and handed him my makeup bag and then turned around, sliding to top of my pants down slightly so he could see. It was a rose laying on the ground, dying.
"Does it have meaning?" He asked.
"Not really." I answered pulling my pants back over it.
"Oh. Okay." He nodded. "Can you help me with this? I use something different at home."
"Sure." I dumped the bag onto my bed and began to cover the bruises and markings left on his face.
Once I finished, we snuck back out the front door and pretended we had just gotten there.
"Mom! Dad! I brought a friend to dinner!" I yelled.
My mother floated down the stairs. "Who is he?" She pointed at him.
"He has a name. Mom, this is Emory. Emory, this is my mother, Jenna Adams."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He nodded.
"I'm sure it is." She sounded disgusted.
"Mom!" I snapped at her.
She rolled her eyes and walked into the dining room.
"Sorry about her." I apologized to Emory.
"Who's your friennd darling?" My dad asked as he walked out of his office.
