Stay Close✔️

19: Trust

19: Trust

My statement put a pause to the crackling emotion in the air. He froze, and my mind automatically said, I told you so.

But I continued, anyway. "I really need to tell somebody." It was a sudden realization. It felt as if, with that statement, a weight was being slowly pulled off of me.

"You can tell me," he said softly.

I nodded and felt a tear slip, but I didn't care. It stayed, not being wiped off my either of us. "I was in a home with Mr. Walsh."

"The man who is after you," Emmett said slowly.

"The other girl there, his daughter, was such a snob. She was thirteen when I was fifteen and I was almost sixteen, practicing. I had my hardship and drove us to school. When I was sixteen, I did get my license. But one night, I was driving home from work. Mr. Walsh made me pay for most of my stuff."

Emmett's attention was unwavering, his eyes holding my gaze easily in such an intimidating stare. But I couldn't look away.

"I wasn't paying attention. There was some report type thing for Mr. Walsh I had to have done and was reading over it while I was driving. I made it into the neighborhood at about one a.m. It was so late, I didn't figure anyone would be out.

"Apparently, this thirteen-year-old liked to sneak out. I didn't know. I'm sure Walsh didn't know, but she was with some guy in the neighborhood, walking in the middle of the street. I didn't see her because my eyes were on the report in the passenger seat. I was going thirty miles per hour."

A shiver ran down my spine at the memory, the sickening crunch when she hit the ground behind me and mine and the boy's shrieks in the air. "She went over the car."

Emmett's eyes were wide. "Report? Did you have to do that for every home?"

"It wasn't normal. Walsh made me give it. It was like a schedule, work and school and anything I do that isn't for work or school. Like if I go out."

"That's ridiculous."

"He was too lazy to keep tabs on me." I shrugged and looked at my hands. "It was how he made sure I wasn't doing illegal things."

"Wow. I thought it was because he cared and didn't want you fooling around with guys or something."

"He could care less if anything like that happened to me."

Emmett's eyes sparked momentarily, but he didn't say anything. I watched him carefully, gauging his reactions to the story.

"I cut out that night. When I went back, Walsh was working on some work this. I handed him my report, went upstairs to grab the few belongings I had, and left through the window. It was about a ten foot drop, but there was a tree."

I pursed my lips at the memory. "My first encounter with Walsh was what told me he was angry and after me. He found me in Pennsylvania and—" I was cut off by my own sob, which had been held at bay for the whole story.

Emmett tried to take me into his arms, but I pushed away. "I went into my apartment and saw that it had been trashed. There was only a little money left—the money I'd hidden for emergencies—and a note on the counter." His brow furrowed, as if he'd been expecting something else. "Never come back," I said, remembering the note. "Mr. Pete Walsh."

"So you don't go there anymore," Emmett stated. "No University of Pennsylvania for you."

"Nope. I think he figured I was there because I'd talked about going there for college. Next, I went to Ohio. Someone screwed with my job building. I thought it was an accident when a fire started, but then I realized I was the only one there. It was my turn to close up the shop. I was working at a little boutique. I looked at the front desk to grab my purse and run out, and Walsh had his name in one of those window markers scrawled over the jewelry glass."