(Ezra's POV)
I couldn't contain my elation as I drove home after introducing Emery to my parents. It was a step closer to making our relationship official, and the fact that my parents liked her meant the world to me.
However, my joy was short-lived when I noticed Emery's phone on the passenger seat. I made a quick U-turn, my heart pounding with worry as I headed back to her house. Something didn't feel right.
As I pulled up to her house and knocked on the door, Emery's father answered. My polite inquiry about Emery's whereabouts was met with rudeness. "I don't know. She hasn't come home since yesterday," he snapped, sending shivers down my spine.
Dread filled me as I forcefully entered the house, and the sight that met my eyes was a nightmare. Emery lay unconscious on the floor, already sporting painful-looking bruises. Anger surged through me as I glared at her father. Without hesitation, I charged at him, using the boxing skills I had honed in my classes to defend Emery.
Our fight was intense. He was bigger and stronger, but I used every ounce of my training to dodge his punches and land my own, aiming for vulnerable spots. Amidst the chaos, my emotions spilled out. "How could you do this to your own child?" I shouted, my voice shaking with fury. But my priority was Emery's safety, and I continued to fight with all my might.
After a desperate struggle, I managed to incapacitate her father. I quickly dialed 911, my voice trembling as I relayed the horrifying situation to the operator. "Please, send help! My girlfriend's been hurt, and her dad did this to her," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.
Kneeling beside Emery, I whispered soothing words to her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. "Stay with me, Emery. You're going to be okay. Help is on the way," I murmured, caressing her face gently.
The police arrived before the ambulance, bombarding me with questions about what had transpired. I provided them with a detailed account of the events, my voice heavy with anger and concern for Emery. "I saw her with bruises at school, and now this... Her father did this to her," I reported, never taking my eyes off Emery.
As the police concluded their questions, the wailing sirens of the ambulance grew closer. Paramedics rushed in, and I held Emery's hand tightly, updating them on her condition. "Please, take good care of her," I implored, my voice filled with worry and love.
Conversations during this harrowing ordeal were laden with raw emotions, from anger and fear to love and desperation. Each word spoken reflected the intensity of the situation and the depth of our feelings for Emery.
Feeling a sense of urgency and concern, I reached for my phone again, this time calling my own parents. As the phone rang, my mind raced with thoughts of how to explain this situation to them.
My mom answered, her voice a mix of surprise and worry, "Ezra, is everything okay?"
I tried to hold back the quiver in my voice as I responded, "Mom, something's happened. I dropped Emery off at her house, but her dad... he did something to her. She's hurt, and we're at Crestwood Memorial Hospital. I didn't come home because I had to stay with her. Can you and Dad please come here? I'll explain everything when you arrive."
There was a brief pause on the other end before my mom replied, "We're on our way, sweetheart. Just stay strong, and we'll be there as soon as we can."
With that reassurance, I hung up the phone and wiped away a tear that had escaped. It was a long and agonizing wait, but I knew I had to be there for Emery, no matter what.
The ambulance arrived with a wailing siren, and I watched anxiously as the paramedics rushed to Emery's side. They worked swiftly, assessing her condition and securing her on a gurney. I held onto Emery's hand with a firm grip, unwilling to let go, as they prepared to take her into the hospital.
My heart was heavy with fear and guilt as they rolled her away from me, into the emergency room. They wouldn't allow me to follow, and I felt utterly helpless. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Emery disappearing behind those cold, sterile hospital doors.
I couldn't help but blame myself. If only I had pushed harder for Emery to open up about what was happening at home. If only I had insisted on knowing the truth when I first saw those bruises on her face. Maybe then, we could have prevented this nightmare.
As I stood there, my tears fell freely, and my mind raced with regret. I replayed every moment, every missed opportunity to protect Emery. I should have done more. I should have been there for her, no matter the cost.
In that agonizing moment, I made a silent promise to myself. I would stand by Emery's side, no matter what it took, and I would never let her face such horrors alone again.