Page 3 of Emily's Escape

Though it’s just a small thing, lifting her so she can see better, a swell of pride sweeps through me. No, I’m not off in the Middle East, risking my life to protect my country. I’m not winning national races and seeing my name on ESPN. But I’m making Em’s life better, and that feels pretty awesome, too.

I kiss the spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “Did you decide what you want?”

She nods. “I think I’m going to get the Bad Bacon Burrito. It has eggs, cheese, two kinds of bacon,andbacon jam.”

My stomach gives another enthusiastic rumble. “Sounds good.”

“That’s what I thought.” Em takes my hand again. “So. I was thinking about next weekend. I know I signed up as a high elf cleric, but I’m wondering if they’ll let me switch to a wood elf swashbuckler, instead.”

“You don’t want to be Adari Hightower this time?” I ask. Adari Hightower is the name of the character she usually plays during our LARPing sessions, just as I usually play a human paladin named Phineas Bravehorse. Once a month or so, Em and I join one of the LARPing events—or live action roleplaying, for the uninitiated—in the DC area. The event she’s talking about next weekend is one of the bigger ones, held bi-annually in Rockville, Maryland. We’ve been working on our costumesfor weeks in preparation, which means a last-minute character change would be a ton of work.

“I know,” Emily says, seemingly reading my mind. “I have Adari’s costume all ready. But I’d really like to try something different. And I think I can adapt one of my older costumes to work for a swashbuckler.”

We take a few steps forward as the line advances. “Then you should do it,” I tell her. “I’m sure it’ll be fine if you switch characters. And if you need any help with the costume, just let me know.”

“Don’t you have to work late this week?”

“Not too late.” I work as an EMT trainer in DC, and sometimes I have to teach evening training sessions. But this coming week, my classes should be over by six, which means I’ll be home by seven at the latest. “I’ll have plenty of time to help, if you need.”

Em grins. “So I can put you to work on the sewing machine?”

I flash a confident smile back at her. “Of course. My mom used to make me help with my Halloween costumes. I’m no expert, but I can sew a straight line.”

“Who’s sewing?” a man asks from behind us, sounding amused. “Surely not Derek Myers?”

Though we haven’t spoken in years, I recognize his voice immediately. Looping my arm around Em’s shoulders, I turn to look at him. “Kyle Atherton,” I say with a smile. “How are you doing?”

If I didn’t recognize his voice, I would by his appearance. Kyle still looks the same as he did back in high school, when we were on the track and field team together. Although he’s got a small paunch now, and a bit of stubble rather than his clean-shaven face of years ago.

“Derek.” He smiles back as he extends his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Same,” I agree as I give his hand a quick shake. “It’s been ages.”

Kyle’s gaze slides to my prosthetic, but just as quickly returns to my face. His smile falters for only a second before returning, bright as ever. “Figures I’d see you here. You do the 5K or the fifteen?”

I lift my chin. “The fifteen. It was Emily’s first time doing one.” Nodding in her direction, I add, “This is my girlfriend, Emily.”

Emily smiles at Kyle. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

He nods at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Glancing back at me, he continues, “Are you living back here now?”

“No, I’m—” I look at Em before amending, “we’reliving in DC. Rockville, specifically. But my parents are still here. So we figured we could run the Boilermaker and visit my parents. We’re heading back home tomorrow evening.”

“Nice,” he remarks. “It’s a good weekend for it. A little hot, but no rain, at least.”

We chat for another minute or so before Emily tugs at my hand. “Sorry to interrupt. But I’m going to find a restroom. If you don’t mind waiting here?”

“I can go with you,” I offer. “We can get back in line after.”

“Oh, no,” she replies quickly. “Stay. Catch up. I’m sure I’ll be back way before we get to the front of the line.”

“It’s awfully crowded, though. It might be better if we went together.”

“Derek.” Em’s voice takes on the gently scolding tone it gets whenever she thinks I’m being overly protective. Which is pretty often, I admit. But I can’t help it. After seeing some of the shit I have during my years in the Army, some of it in the most innocuous of places, it’s awfully hardnotto be suspicious. “It’s broad daylight. With hundreds of people around. I think I’ll be okay going to the restroom by myself.”

She’s right. I know she is. But still, I hesitate.

Not because I don’t think Em is capable of taking care of herself. It’s the other people—the truly bad people—I worry about.