Page 32 of Fixing Emilee

He first touched me when he “accidentally brushed up against my chest” when he needed to get to the fridge. Our kitchen was small. It lined one wall of the tiny home, but it shared the space with our dining room. The table was all the way against the opposite wall, giving us more than enough room for two individuals to be in there at the same time without touching. That day when he called my name, I turned around, so my ass was up against the sink giving him plenty of space because that’s what I thought he wanted. Boy, was I fucking wrong. He had a disgusting smile and kept constant eye contact as he walked sideways, so his front was plastered to mine. Mom, of course, wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening.

I was shocked, frozen in that spot for a good five minutes before I could move. My whole body was shaking as I ran down the hall, slamming the bathroom door and stepping into the hottest shower I could stand with my clothes on. His laugh flowed down the hall, making my skin crawl even more. I scrubbed myself raw, trying to get the feel of his body off me. Later I would learn what I felt brush my stomach was his erection. Even though there were multiple layers of clothing between us, I still felt the dirtiest I had ever felt in my whole life.

That became a regular occurrence. No matter how much space was between us, Kevin made sure that when he passed me, his whole body touched mine. His hands would start to linger too long as well. Every time, my eyes looked for my mom. I would often catch her staring, but she said nothing. At night, I would place a chair under the doorknob on my door, afraid of what would happen when Mom wasn’t here or asleep. This continued for a month before I got the nerve to talk to her about how I felt increasingly uncomfortable in our home. She was getting ready for another night shift when I entered her room.

“Mom, can I talk to you?” I ask, keeping my voice low because I knew the walls were thin and Kevin was in the living room.

“What do you want, Emilee?” she huffs out, like it was such a hardship to talk to me, her daughter.

I open my mouth, trying to force the words sitting on my tongue out, but they won’t come. I shut my mouth, swallow what little moisture is there, and try again. But again, I can’t make the words “I’m scared” come out. If I say them, they make what is happening real. They make me face the possibility that I’m not safe in the one place I should be, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. What child is supposed to face something so dark, depraved, and evil at such a young age?

“For fucks sake, you dumb girl, spit it the fuck out or get out of here.” She turns, throwing the brush at my head, barely missing me.

“I’m scared, Mom. Kevin keeps touching me, brushing up against me, and I don’t like it,” I say, shuffling from one foot to the other, trying hard not to cry. I keep my eyes on the brown, stained, dirty carpet that is throughout the whole house. Until I hear her laugh. My mother, who I had just told I was scared, laughed at me. My eyes slowly rise from the floor to the woman who is supposed to love me unconditionally and protect me with her life. She has her head thrown back, eyes to the ceiling, and is laughing a full-belly laugh. She finds it amusing that her eleven-year-old daughter is scared that a grown, nasty, evil man will one day take brushing against her to a new level? How is this possible?

“What are you talking about, girl? I see how you stare at him like you want him for yourself. He has even mentioned how he has caught you looking at him inappropriately and making him uncomfortable. Staring at him like a bitch in heat all the time.” She stands, wiping tears that formed in her eyes from laughing too hard, and stalks toward me. My chest hurts as my lungs refuse to work, and I can’t understand what she says. My back slams into the wood-paneled wall behind me as my mother steps flush against me. “Listen to me, you little whore. If you even think about making me lose the best man to ever happen to me, I will leave you on the street corner where you belong.” My heart shatters as she spins, picks up her purse, and leaves the house, yelling I love you to the monster in the living room.

That night was when I knew I was in this all alone. I had no way of contacting anyone to rescue me, and with the stories I was told, my grandparents didn’t want me anyway. I could always tell a teacher, but it would be Kevin’s and my mom’s words against mine. I started calculating how long I had until I could legally leave home, and the answer was too long. I thought about running away multiple times. I’m sure I could find my way to my grandparents’ house, and when they found out the truth, they surely would take me in, right? Ultimately, I started leaving for school earlier and not returning home till late at night. If my mom was home, I would come home earlier, but I never truly felt safe even with her there.

Things seemed to improve two weeks after I told my mom I was scared. They got into a big fight, and according to what I overheard, my mom was caught cheating on him. When I got up the following day, Mom told me she kicked him to the curb, and he wouldn’t be back. After a couple of weeks, I stupidly believed I had made it all up and that maybe I was overreacting. That was until the day after my birthday, when I learned to ask before opening our front door.

I had a great twelfth birthday. Mom paid attention to me and spent the whole day with me doing whatever I wanted. I was able to go get a couple of books, some new clothes, and even a pretty dress. I was still riding the high from my birthday the day after. Mom called to tell me she would once again be working late, a double shift.

“Is anyone coming over?” I ask shyly, not wanting my mom to think I knew anything. She thinks I haven’t heard her talking to Kevin late at night, but I have. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she returned to him, but it had only been sixteen days. Sixteen days of not having to worry about anything or anyone touching me. He hasn’t been here, but I know everything will change soon. It’s the same thing. She does something wrong, the man leaves, we get to a good place, and then she runs back, saying she needs him.

“No, sweetie, why would anyone be coming over? Look, I got to go.” I roll my eyes at her, not believing a word she says.

“I love…” The line dies before I can tell her I love her.

I spent the first few hours alone, getting lost in my new book and snacking on the junk food Mom finally bought. It was getting close to midnight, and I knew I better get in bed, but I hated sleeping in a quiet house. As I walked past the front door, heading to my room, there was a knock on the door. I thought it was Mom. Sometimes, she forgets her keys and will knock for me to let her in. So I didn’t stop to think before turning the deadbolt and opening the door. Everything happened so fast. A figure rushed me, pushing me back into the wall, their hands everywhere on my body and their breath in my ear. I couldn’t breathe, I kept trying to push the hands away from me, but they kept coming back.

I fought hard until the figure whispered in my ear, and I recognized the voice. “I’ve been biding my time with your mom. Now I get the younger, hotter, innocent, and feistier version all to myself.” I stopped fighting him instantly, and a chill swept over me like someone had poured cold water over me. He laughed the evilest laugh I had ever heard as his hands pushed under my shirt. “Don’t stop fighting me now. I love when you struggle.” It was Kevin…

* * *

I’m yanked from the memory flashing before my eyes when my body is pulled to the left and into the strong arms of Parker. I was so lost in telling my tale that I hadn’t noticed my body shaking violently. I’m crying so hard that snot runs out of my nose, making breathing difficult. My eyes sweep the room, looking at my family. My dad’s face is the darkest shade of red imaginable, and I’m worried he isn’t breathing until I see his chest move. Mom is crying with her head bowed. I can hear the prayer she is whispering into her hands. Carly is curled into Adam’s side, and Levi is holding Tiffani. Both ladies are silently crying, and my brothers look like they are ready to commit murder. Lastly, I make eye contact with the person I’m most worried about, Parker. I pull my head back so I can look into his eyes.

They are full of rage, murderous rage. Parker’s jawline is more prominent because his jaw is clenched so tightly. I raise my hand up and place it on the side of his face. His eyes close, and he leans into my palm, breathing deeply like he is trying to hold it together. Adam is the first to speak up, “Emilee… did he… rape you?” Parker’s eyes fly open, his hand grabs my wrist holding my palm to his face, and the other tightens on my waist. I don’t look away from his blue eyes as I answer the question.

“No, Adam, he didn’t. Mom walked in shortly after. She started screaming at me, calling me a whore, saying she knew I was trying to steal her man. Kevin pushed off me and started saying how he came by to talk to her, and I jumped him.” The tears start flowing again, but Parker never lets me go or looks away from me as tears swim in his eyes. “I ran to my room and locked the door. I sat on my bed, never shutting my eyes, too scared that he would come back in and try to finish what he had started, but he never did. She made me pack my clothes the next day and brought me here.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Breathe in and breathe out. Maybe if I kept repeating those words over and over in my head, they would work. I watched Emilee as her eyes glazed over, and she mentally left us all sitting here staring at her as she told us all a story that none of us wanted to hear. The shock, rage, and horror at the words spilling from her mouth were written all over the faces surrounding her, but she didn’t pay us any attention. When her body started to tremble, I knew the story was about to worsen. I probably shouldn’t have moved her, but I couldn’t stand being that far from her anymore. I had to hold her, to remind myself that she was here, not there, and she was okay.

I’m not sure I will ever forget the look in her eyes as they connect with mine. The fear of what she is describing, the hurt she felt because of her mom. But the main thing written on her face is worry, worry that this changes everything. It’s all written right there in her brown eyes for the world to see. My back teeth scream at me to loosen my jaw before breaking them. The rage running rampant in my body doesn’t seem to have an end in sight, and it’s starting to boil over in unshed tears. Blinking back the tears, I lean forward, placing my forehead against Emilee’s, and whisper so only she hears me.

“You’re safe, baby. I’m so fucking sorry you went through that. I love you.” My eyes are closed because I’m trying to calm myself down, and if I see the pain written on her face, I will have to start the process all over again. “This changes nothing, Butterfly. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. Do you understand me? You did nothing wrong and hold no blame for what that bastard did to you. You were an innocent child, and he was a predator that should be put down.”

Her shaky breath fans over my lips, “I love you too.”

“Why didn’t you tell us when she dropped you off?” Her mom’s voice interrupts our little moment, and I remember we are not alone.

Pulling back from me, Em sighs, turning toward the rest of them. “I was repeatedly told how much you guys didn’t want me. How you begged her to leave Adam and Levi with you but never me. It was pounded into my head that I was unwanted by everyone but her. Plus, if she didn’t believe me, I had no faith that you would believe I hadn’t wanted his hands on me. In my mind, even though she wasn’t the nicest, she was my mom, and if she believed that evil man, that meant no one would believe me.” She shrugs in defeat.

“We would have believed you,” her dad finally speaks. His face isn’t as red as it was a minute ago. The longer we sit here, the calmer we get. Well, they get calmer, because all I want to do is find this mother fucker and end his life painfully for daring to touch Emilee. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know her then. No child deserves to be touched like that.

“I know that now, but you have to understand I was young, scared, traumatized, and just wanted it all to be a bad dream. I was certain she would come back to get me, but as the days turned into months and years, I just wanted to forget it, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. Until Christian came into the picture asking questions. He wouldn’t stop, and I broke telling him everything one night.” Emilee slumps forward, looking exhausted and defeated, placing her head in her hands.

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