Hainsey

I gape at Emyln.

What the hell is she doing here?

I know we discussed attending these exchanges together, but I didn't think she would follow me here. Hell, I thought she was tucked safely in her bed for the night.

Nothing has ever scared me as badly as this moment. Not when I broke her nose or when I realized I was going to be alone after she left. I can barely breathe as I watch one of Clayton's goons handle Ems in a rough manner. It takes every fucking fibre in my body to not go over there and pummel him to a pulp.

"Do you know this girl?" Clayton asks me.

I process what's happening, and then try to decide whether or not I should lie. Lots of people go on night runs in Whistler during the summer, but that's usually around Lost Lake or along the local roads. No one would come out this far to an old logging road that no one has used for years.

"Yeah," I nod.

Clayton raises his eyebrows and turns to face Ems, inspecting her like a hungry wolf does before it attacks its prey.

Fear twists my insides into a massive knot. I swear to God, if they lay a hand on her...

I clear my throat and go for the best option: the truth. "She's my girlfriend," I say slowly. Clayton turns back to me and raises his eyebrows, silently telling me to go on. "I told her about this" – I make a hand gesture between us – "and how I buy the heroin for my mom. She promised she'd keep it a secret, which she has." I shoot Ems a worried glance. The fear in her eyes sickens me. While I want to point out that I made the right choice in not telling her and that she's a fucking idiot for following me, the fear overpowers everything. If she gets hurt, it's all on me. "I didn't consider her following me. But I can promise that she won't say a thing."

Clayton runs a hand over his buzz cut, and then turns to Ems. "Who was that call from?" he demands.

Ems's eyes widen in shock. "I-I don't k-know," she stammers. "I didn't p-pay attention to who was calling. I j-just shut the sound off."

He contemplates her words for a moment. I hope he believes her. I sure as hell do. Ems is terrified at this moment, so nothing but the truth is going to come out.

But I'm wrong. So fucking wrong because Clayton's fist collides with the right side of her rib cage with such a force that I feel nauseated. Ems keels over, clutching her torso area, a cry of pain escaping her mouth. If his goons weren't holding her up, she'd definitely be on her knees in the mud.

"I said," he says in a deadly tone. "Who called you?"

Tears are streaming down her face as she tries to catch her breath. "I-I don't know," she gasps through the pain and tears. "I really don't know!"

Clayton ignores what Ems has to say and hits her again in the same spot, just ten times harder. That's the moment I ask myself, What the fuck are you doing? If he keeps doing that, you're going to need to take Ems to the hospital.

Instinct takes over and I snap out of the daze I'm stuck in, closing the space between Clayton and I within seconds. I'm furious with him. The fact that he thinks it's okay to hit her infuriates me beyond belief. I rarely lose my temper, but someone physically abusing my girlfriend – or any woman for that matter – pisses me off. So it's no surprise when my fist makes contact with Clayton's face after I have him pinned against the side of his SUV. I hit him so hard that his nose begins to bleed. In any other situation, I'm sure Ems would make some comment about me having an affinity for breaking noses, but this is definitely not one of them. I watch as the blood mixes with the rain and streaks his mouth and chin with uneven pink lines.

Gripping the hem of his leather jacket in my fist, I violently shove him. "Touch her again and see where that gets you," I growl.

He barks out a sardonic laugh and then makes a signal with his hand. His movement makes me raise my fist. "Ah-ah-ah," he grins, "one more wrong move and your girlfriend won't be so lucky." He nods in Emyln's direction.

I freeze, take a deep breath, and then turn around. My temper instantly deflates. The taller guy, the one with dreadlocks and a piercing in his eyebrow, has a switchblade pressed to my girl's side. I make eye contact with Ems. Her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks pink from the cold rain, and she's shaking. The fear in her eyes is definite and I feel a sense of helplessness.

"Let go of her," I say, my voice breaking a little. I already lost her once. I can't lose her again. Especially when the outcome would be my fault.

From behind me, Clayton says, "See, that's where the problem lies, my friend." He claps me hard on the back. "This girlfriend of yours," he continues as he walks past me. When he gets to Ems, he traces his finger along the scar that I gave her. It irritates me. He glances at me over his shoulder. "I don't know if she's trustworthy. Who's to say she's not writing up clear descriptions of us in her little mind this very moment? Who's to say she's not going to go to the police as soon as this is over?" He makes another gesture with his hand.

The switchblade digs deeper into her side, and I tense up. It's digging right where Clayton hit her with blunt force. If we get out of this, I'm taking her to the hospital. After the way he hit her, with the addition of pressure, there's the possibility she could have a cracked rib or maybe even caused some internal bleeding.

"She won't say anything – I'll make sure of it," I say, unable to hide the pleading note in my voice.

Clayton clearly catches on because his grin broadens. "I don't know, man." He turns back to Ems and plays with a lock of her hair. "She's a beautiful thing – I can only imagine what she'd do in bed. Maybe I'll keep her for myself. What do you think, sugar?"

Ems shakes her head. "P-please," she begs, tears slipping down her cheeks and mixing with the raindrops. "I promise I won't say anything. I swear. Please just let me go."

"Clayton, man," I interject. "Please. She's not going to speak about tonight to anyone but me. Look at her – you've scared her enough. Fuck, you're scaring me. She was just concerned about my safety in all of this! Can you blame her for following me? Just because she's seen all this doesn't mean she's going to say anything. For fuck's sake! Emyln just needed to know that I was okay, and I am!" I'm yelling by the time I finish.

He contemplates my words, and all I can think about is how I'm going to get her out of this. If things don't go right, I'm going to need to devise a plan; a quick, smart plan that can get us out of the mess I've made. As per usual, this is my entire fault.

"And why should I listen to you?" he asks, turning to me.

I frown, several perfectly good reasons popping up in my mind. "I have been a loyal customer for years," I start, ready to prove my point. "I have paid the required amount and never once complained when prices went up. Think about it! This has been going on for years and the police have never been brought up. I can guarantee that Emyln will not tell anyone because I will convince her not to." I shoot Ems a glance and she gives me a subtle nod to keep going. It surprises me because I'm kind of making it look like I have total control over this relationship (which I don't), but I don't think she cares about much right now. She's scared and hurt and I know she regrets following me. "Just let her go, Clayton. She's no part of this."

My last words come out as a whisper. What I've just said is my last line of defence. I can only hope it's enough to convince him.

After several long seconds of waiting, he finally nods his head and I make no effort to hide my sigh of relief.

"Fine," he says. "Let her go, Victor."

The sights of the switchblade being drawn away from her body and then Ems being shoved forward make me relax a little. I step forward, ready to catch her and feel her body press against mine, but Clayton intercepts her, his fist colliding with the already-tender spot of her rib cage. She cries out in pain again, gripping the spot, and falls to her knees. Mud splashes upward and spots her pink cheeks and sopping hair.

I rush to her, dropping down beside her. I pull Ems into my arms. She's quivering and sobbing and I feel like the worst person in the world. I should have told her. Fuck me for not taking her words seriously. "What the fuck was that for?" I yell at Clayton. His goons have started heading back to the SUV.

He shrugs, looking at us like we're things that deserve to be spat on. "Good measure – the message needs to be clear for little Emyln. She speaks one word about this night, and she's done for. Got it?"

I'm pissed. "Of course she gets it! She's not a child."

Clayton doesn't seem to like my outburst, so he simply turns and walks back to the black SUV without another word.

And I don't give a shit.

I look down at Ems. She's sobbing into my chest, gripping the fabric of my soaked sweater like she's scared to let go. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry, Hains – I shouldn't have come."

"No," I whisper in her ear as I lift her up. "You shouldn't have. But I should have called you. I'm sorry."

Ems murmurs something incoherent to me, and then a shiver takes over her body. While I want to check the area where Clayton hit her, I decide it's best to get her to my truck first. That way, I can turn on the heat and warm her up.

So that's exactly what I do, trudging at an extremely slow pace through the dark, slippery forest.

When I'm at the truck, I settle her down in the passenger seat and then get the heat going. While she warms up, I assess her injuries, using my iPhone as a light.

She has a severe bruise that's already turned different shades of red and dark purple with faint hints of green and blue mixed into the equation. Nothing seems to be swollen too badly, but then again, I'm not a doctor. There's also a small cut that's leaking a thin line of blood. The cut isn't enough to concern me, but the bruising is. She could have internal injuries that I don't know about.

As I gently press my fingers to her bare skin, she flinches and groans in pain. "Hains?" she slurs.

"Yeah, baby?" I ask, feeling ashamed of myself. Though I didn't lay a hand on her, I've scarred my girlfriend.

"Can you call my dad and Rosa for me?"

I frown, thinking she must be in a lot of pain to be acting so delusional. I really need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.

"Ems?" I whisper, brushing away a piece of wet hair from her forehead. "I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"

I wait for an answer, but nothing comes. I watch as her eyes flutter shut and her body goes limp.

And it scares me.

"Ems?" I say louder this time, taking her shoulders in my hands and giving her a light shake.

The only response I get is her head falling forward.

I begin to panic, frantically feeling for a pulse. I do find it beneath the cold skin of her neck, but it's faint, barely there.

"Fuck," I curse, getting to my feet and slamming the door.

I sprint around to the other side of my truck and get in. I don't know what's wrong with her or why she's suddenly passed out, but I know I need to get her to the hospital. There has to be some internal bleeding – that's the only thing that makes sense to me at this moment.

While I'm speeding down the road, I pull my phone out and dial Val's number first. Yeah, it's illegal, but I don't give a shit right now. When she answers, I tell her she needs to get to the hospital now, and I don't give her a chance to ask me why. I hang up immediately, hoping she listens to me. With Ems out, I'm going to need someone there. 

After that, I press down harder on the gas pedal. Rain pelts against the windshield as I drive, but again, I don't care.

I try not to think about how Ems asked me to call her dad and Rosa. Did she somehow know, deep down in her gut, that this was going to happen? A tear slips down my cheek. Is this all I can do? Fuck things up when they get good? 

Fuck, I can't think about that right now. 

Getting Ems to the hospital is my top priority. 

So I clear my mind as best I can, and turn right off of the highway in the direction of the hospital.