CHAPTER 4
(Emery's pov)
The memories of the earlier evening with Ezra continued to play in my mind, like a cherished melody in the midst of life's discord. Her warmth and kindness were a sharp contrast to the darkness I knew awaited me at home. As I got closer to my house, the smile that had graced my lips began to fade, replaced by a growing dread.
Returning home meant confronting my father, a daunting prospect that left me with a heavy heart. I entered the house with caution, closing and locking the door behind me. The dimly lit living room held a palpable tension that seemed to thicken the air, making it hard to breathe.
I moved slowly, trying not to provoke any sudden outbursts of anger from my father. Meeting his eyes was out of the question, so I kept my head low. In a voice that trembled with trepidation, I announced my arrival, "I'm home, Dad."
My father, whose scent was tainted by the unmistakable stench of alcohol, rose from his chair. He made his way toward me, and the atmosphere grew even more suffocating. I braced myself for what I knew was coming.
Before I could react, his hand struck my face with brutal force, leaving a burning imprint in its wake. A punishing blow to my stomach followed, causing me to double over in pain. I curled into a fetal position on the floor as he showed no mercy.
He kicked me from different angles, his words filled with hate, laden with homophobic slurs. I pleaded for mercy, my voice falling on deaf ears. The beating continued relentlessly until darkness claimed my consciousness.
(Ezra's pov)
The minutes dragged on, and there was still no reply from Emery. My concern grew with each passing second. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. My friends, Josh, Ryan, and Jude, gathered around, their expressions filled with worry.
They could see the unease in my eyes as I sighed and explained, "I've texted Emery, but she hasn't replied yet. I'm starting to worry."
(Josh's pov)
We exchanged concerned glances, the atmosphere heavy with worry for our friend. Ryan tried to offer some reassurance, "Maybe she's just busy or her phone's acting up. I'm sure she'll get back to you soon."
But the unease lingered in the room. We all knew how much Emery meant to Ezra, and the silence was deafening.
(Ezra's pov)
Time continued to slip away, Emery's silence echoing in my thoughts. I decided to give it more time, desperately hoping that she would reach out later, that everything was okay.
On the other side of town, Emery finally regained consciousness. His body was battered and bruised, a testament to the brutality of his father's actions. The temporary absence of his father allowed him a brief respite from the relentless abuse. Summoning the last of his strength, he tended to his injuries and took some pain relievers before drifting into a fitful sleep.
As I lay in bed, my phone buzzed once more with a message notification from an unknown number. My heart raced with hope as I eagerly opened the message, sending a simple "hi" to Emery. My thoughts were consumed by worry for her, and I prayed for a reply.
(Emery's pov)
In my restless slumber, I vaguely sensed my phone buzzing with a message from an unknown number. Too drained to check it at that moment, I decided to address it in the morning. The weight of my ordeal still clung to me like a suffocating shroud as I drifted into an uneasy sleep, yearning for a brighter tomorrow.
(Ezra's pov)
With no response from Emery and the weight of worry pressing heavily on my heart, I reluctantly concluded that she might have fallen asleep or had other pressing matters. Disheartened but understanding, I decided to call it a night. My thoughts were consumed by the image of the green-eyed blonde who had captured my heart.
The night seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with worry and uncertainty. I hoped and prayed for Emery's safety, longing for the dawn to bring with it some news or a sign that she was alright.