The Ragdoll

Falling Out

Emily was frantic. She shoved everything she might have needed into her pockets. Napkins, small knives from Oliver's kitchen, pepper spray, a granola bar, and handcuffs.

She paced around, too excited and out of control for her own good.

Sarah watched slightly amused and Oliver tried to get her attention but Emily didn't care.

She paced around and she was shaking and the bloodlust inside of her stomach was screaming at her to finish the job.

This is what she had worked for.

This is it.

Everything, everything she had ever done since her father had died had lead up to that exact moment.

"Emily."

She couldn't contain herself.

"Emily?"

She screamed and she shook and she punched a wall.

"Emily!"

"What?"

Emily turned to Oliver and saw Sarah hiding behind his back, afraid.

"Calm down," he said. "Before you do this we need to talk. Sarah, go wait in the back room."

Sarah did as she was told and Oliver sat Emily down on the couch.

"What is it?" she asked, still not completely calm.

"I was thinking... Maybe I should go to Paul's place."

Emily looked at him.
"Alone," he finished.

"What?" she asked.

"Emily, you're not ready for this, I mean look at you. He might not see you coming but you're a basket case right now. What if you're sloppy? What if you get killed? Emily, I'm experienced. I can kill him and save Stacy in a matter of minutes."

Emily was so shocked and hurt that she could barely speak.

Why didn't he understand?

Why couldn't he understand?

She needed her closure, her revenge, and that was that and there was no more.

Why couldn't he see that?
Christopher Paul was her's.

Her's.

Her's.

HER'S.

He belonged to Emily Thomas, not Oliver Preston.

He just wanted another easy victim.

He wanted to take this from her.

"Emily."

What she had worked so hard on.

"EMILY!"

Emily snapped out of it and turned to face Oliver. She didn't even see the same man in his eyes.

"What do you think?"

"You know what I think, Preston? I think that you're the world's biggest asshole for even suggesting anything like that."

"Emily, sit down, you're overreacting."

"I don't think I am. Paul's mine, you hear me? Mine. Not yours. Mine."

Oliver stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Emily-"

"Don't touch me."

Oliver took his hand away and she turned to face him.

"Get out, Oliver. Get far away from me until Christopher Paul is dead. Then we'll figure something out between us."

Oliver looked at Emily, completely dumbfounded.

He calmly walked over to the small wooden table and did something completely out of the blue.

He lifted the table above his head and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. It shattered into pieces.

He didn't say a word after that.

He grabbed his oversized coat and opened the door, his back to Emily.

"Leave the motorcycle," she said.

Without looking at her, Oliver shook his head and slammed the door behind him.

"Sarah!" Emily yelled.

Sarah slowly opened the door and walked out into the open. She stopped when she saw the destruction and looked around, surprised.

"What happened in here?" she asked.

"Nothing. Come on, you're coming with me."

"Where?"

"To see what revenge looks like."