“You know,” smirks Vince evilly, leaning over me. “I never planned on actually liking you. At one point I did. Then Emery ruined it,” he snaps through clenched teeth. “Just like that bastard ruins everything.”

I squirm as Vince continues undressing me when I finally close my eyes.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I whisper through tears, as Vince’s grip on my mouth loosens. “What did he ever do to you?” I always thought it was just stupid competition; however Vince’s hatred seems much deeper than that.

“You will find out soon enough,” he spits, clamping his hand tighter over my mouth.

I can’t speak, I can’t escape, so all I can do is cry and pretend I’m somewhere else. I try to imagine I’m on a beach; however I don’t even get far enough to picture the water. No, instead memories with Emery flash through my mind. We kiss, we hug, we laugh and act like we’re a couple. I’m positive that I want my first time to be with Emery. However I don’t think I have much of a choice right now.

Vince moves his hand from my mouth before his lips smash into mine. I squirm and move my head away, but his hand move it back and hold it in place. His free hand trails my shoulders, slowly moving under my open shirt.

Suddenly, there’s a slam. My eyes fly open and Vince whips his head around. The loft door swings slowly, after it’s been smashed into the wall. Everything is a deafening quiet except for the sound of the door slowly recoiling.

“Emery!” I scream, shoving Vince off of me. I crawl to the edge of the bed in attempt to run to him, but I feel a hand clasp around my arm. Vince yanks me back towards him as I desperately try to get away. My eyes lock with Emery’s, but he doesn’t look surprised. He’s glaring, his eyes full of hatred. His hands are clenched into fists as his sides and his whole body trembles with rage. “Help me!”

Emery takes a step towards the bed however Vince is already off it. He storms towards Emery, grabbing the knife of the bedside table. I jump off the bed and take safety in the corner. I start to re-clothe myself as Vince is too distracted with Emery to pay attention to me.

“Get the fuck out,” snarls Vince, ready to attack. He doesn’t get the chance. As soon as he’s close, Emery punches him as hard as he can in the face. Vince falls over, holding his nose as Emery looks down at him in disgust. Quickly, Vince lunges towards Emery’s legs, wrapping his arms around them. Emery falls onto his back on the wooden floor.

Vince jumps onto Emery and starts hitting him when I realize there’s an unfair advantage. Emery has only one arm and is already hurt, while Vince has a knife. Quickly, I search the room, knowing I have to help somehow. Then my eyes land on the lamp.

Vince is too caught up in fighting to see me grab it off the nightstand and walk towards him from behind. He’s raised the knife, holding it ready to stab Emery. However Emery holds onto his arm, fighting the sharp object before it can pierce him. Smirking, I hold the glass lamp high above my head.

“This is for being a fucking asshole,” I snap. With all my strength, I throw the lamp as hard as I can into the back of Vince’s head. It smashes to pieces on contact. He instantly falls over, unconscious. Emery looks up at me. He looks like hell; however his mouth hangs open in shock. I don’t know whether it’s from me attacking Vince with the lamp or swearing for the first time in my life, however I don’t ask.

With shaky hands, I help Emery to his feet. Instantly he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug as I begin to sob. He smells like cigarettes and the smell comforts me.

“I’m so sorry for not believing you,” I cry, not caring that he probably doesn’t remember what for. “I’m so sorry!” Emery pulls back and holds onto my shoulders. There’s a new cut on his lip dripping blood and a gash on his forehead, though he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You have no reason to be sorry,” he tells me sternly. “None of this is your fault.”

I open my mouth to speak but shut it when I hear the footsteps running up the stairs. Mary runs into the door and looks around the room with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. I know she’s going to start yelling pretty soon. Her eyes look us over and then look past us, probably at Vince who’s lying on the floor. I’m wrong.

“Emery, watch out!”

I turn around just in time to see Vince pull back his arm, ready to stab Emery in the head. Feeling the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, I pull my leg back and kick him where it hurts. Instantly, he groans and falls onto the ground. The knife clangs on the ground as it falls out of his hand. I pick it up and look at him in disgust.

“Asshole,” I mutter, turning back to see my dad come into the loft, holding the family shotgun. He cocks it and points it at Vince. His eyes are glaring, yet somehow wide. He doesn’t even seem to notice the mess around us but instead only has the mindset to kill.

“Get the hell off my family’s farm!” He booms and my eyes grow wide. I’ve never heard him yell so loud. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you right now, you bastard!”

Vince holds his hands up and slowly rises to his feet. He leans over and grabs his backpack before slowly taking a step towards my father and the loft door. Emery wraps an arm around my shoulders as I shake uncontrollably, extremely upset and resisting the urge to steal the shotgun and put a bullet in Vince’s head.

My dad follows him down the stairs, hitting him in the back with the barrel of the shotgun every few minutes. Once they’re gone, Mary runs over and wraps her arms around me.

“River!” She cries, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“I should have listened to you,” I sob back, shaking in her arms. “I’m so sorry!” Something crosses my mind and I pull back to meet Mary’s eyes. “How did Emery know I was here?”

She blushes and avoids looking at me. “I told him,” she says shyly and I roll my eyes. “Then I told your dad.”

In the house, I sit on the couch with my legs crossed. A blanket sits around my shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate shakes in my hands. My mother sits beside me, holding me gently. She only filled the cup halfway, knowing I would spill it if it was full. On the other side sits Mary, doing her best to comfort me. My dad’s on the phone in the kitchen, talking to the police. Emery stands in front of me, staring down with worried eyes.

“Honey,” my mother says gently, rubbing my back. “It will all be okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Mary chips in, squeezing my shoulder. “He will get what he deserves.”

“You should have seen her,” mumbles Emery, gaining three pairs of eyes on him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and smirks. “She smashed a lamp over his head.”

My mom instantly turns to me with huge eyes. “The good lamp?”

I roll me eyes. “If it’s such a good lamp, why was it in the loft?”

“Well,” she sighs, giving me a small smile. “At least you put it to good use.”

Four Hours Later:

“Can’t sleep?” I turn my open eyes towards Emery, who’s sitting on the edge of my bed. He rests a hand on my leg and I shrug. His eyes meet mine, asking if it’s okay for him to sleep beside me.

“Okay,” I whisper, closing my eyes for the first time in an hour. The bed shifts as Emery climbs in behind me and pulls the covers up over him. When he’s done, he reaches over and makes sure I’m tucked in too.

“I used to do this a lot, didn’t I?” He murmurs, wrapping his arm around my waist and snuggling into me.

“You remember?” I ask quietly back. “I thought you don’t remember anything about me.”

Emery sighs, his breath ticking the back of my neck. “I don’t,” he whispers, barely audible. “But this just feels…” He trails off and I wish I was facing the opposite way so I can see him. I wrap my hand around his and squeeze.

“It feels what?”

For a few minutes, the only sound is of Emery and I breathing in the dark. As happy as I am snuggling with him right now, it still hurts me horribly that he doesn’t remember me at all.

“It feels right.”

I wake up to sunlight. For the first time in a long time, Emery is still with me. He’s snuggled his head into the back of my neck, his breath tickling me every time he exhales. His right arm is draped over my waist while his hand holds onto my stomach, pulling me into him and making sure I can’t leave. My whole back is warm from him being pressed against me all night.

“Emery,” I murmur, trying to turn onto my back. However it’s impossible because he’s snuggling me so tightly. “It’s time to wake up.” The only response I get is a moan and he hugs me tighter. “Emery?” This time he only groans. “You’re going to miss out on pancakes.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, his voice raspy and quiet from just waking up. He cuddles me even tighter, as if I could just disappear at any given moment.

“Gee,” I mutter. “I thought that would have worked.”

“River!” My dad’s calling up the stairs. “Emery! I need to talk to you two!”

Instantly, my heart begins to race and I feel like all the blood in my veins has magically disappeared. Before when my parents wanted to talk, I never thought anything of it. However now with Emery in the picture, I’m constantly worried I’m in trouble.

Emery finally let’s go and I climb out of bed, fixing my messy morning hair in the mirror before Emery decides to open his eyes. Once I look semi-presentable, I turn back to the bed.

“We have to get up, Emery,” I tell him, grabbing onto his shoulder and waist with my hands. I start to shake him and his eyes fly open, immediately into a glare.

“You’re mean.”

I roll my eyes and shake him once more for good measure. “Come on.”

“Fine,” he groans, followed by more words I can’t understand. He climbs out of bed and rubs his messy black hair. It looks absolutely adorable not brushed and I can’t help but grin as he gets dressed.

“What is it?” I ask nervously, stepping into the kitchen where my dad waits. He’s standing beside my mother, who sits at the table. Emery bounds down the stairs after me, obviously still half asleep as he bumps right into my back, not seeing me. Once he’s settled beside me, my dad speaks sternly.

“I talked to the police again this morning and they did a background check on Vince,” he tells us, meeting my eyes then Emery’s. “At the hospital, you both told us that a man named Keith attacked Emery in a parking lot that time you two went shopping.” Emery and I both nod as I clasp my hands together, trying desperately to prevent them from shaking. “Well it seems that Vince and Keith both know each other.”

My eyes grow wide and Emery’s face starts to go pale. “How?” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“Keith,” sighs my dad, not meeting either of our eyes. “Is Vince’s father.”