Page 118 of Stalkers Anonymous

I’ve only sent one of those letters because Tracey thought it would be a good idea and peer pressure from the group talked me into letting Tyler deliver it to her. That was three weeks ago. She hasn’t responded. She isn’t going to respond. Tracey told me from the jump not to expect a reply, and I told myself I wouldn’t expect one, yet I still hold out hope every morning, like a kid who really believes that this year, he’ll catch Santa coming down the chimney.

False hope is a hell of a drug.

Tyler and I talk for a few more minutes, going through the motions of making sure my day is set up for success.

“Call me if you need anything. Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time tomorrow.”

I tuck my phone away and head into the gym, nodding to the receptionist at the front desk.

After my workout, I’m just finishing changing out of my sweaty clothes when my phone rings. It’s Emma.

“Hey, Em. What’s up?”

“Cole.” Her voice is shaky. “I need you. I’m in the emergency room.”

Every protective instinct I have springs into overdrive, but I force myself to breathe. I force myself to listen. To ask the right questions instead of taking over.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I fell down the concrete stairs outside of work and broke my arm.” Her voice wavers. “It’s a bad break, Cole. They’re saying I need surgery.”

“Are you alone? Where’s Matt?”

“He’s at work, but he can’t get here for another hour or two. The doctor wants to talk about surgical options and I don’t… I can’t think straight with the pain medication they gave me.”

I take a deep breath and apply the techniques Tracey’s been hammering into me.

“Emma, I’m sorry you’re scared and in pain.” I sit straighter on the bench in the locker room. “Tell me what would be most helpful right now. Do you want me to come to the hospital? Do you need someone to call work and check in? What do you need?”

“I thought you’d rush over here and try to take over,” Emma says, surprise evident in her voice.

“I’m going to support you however you need me to,” I clarify. “This is your choice. I’ll help with whatever you want, but you’re in charge.”

“Oh.” I can almost hear her thinking on the other end of the line. “Um, I think I would like you to come. Just to sit with me until Matt gets here. And maybe help me think through what the doctor is saying? My head feels fuzzy from whatever they gave me.”

“Of course. I’m heading out now.” And then my heart sinks into my stomach. “Which hospital are you at?”

Don’t say Memorial. Don’t say Memorial. Please, don’t say Memorial.

“I’m at Riverside. An ambulance brought me here.”

I close my eyes and breathe through a sigh of relief as I head out the door. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, Cole. I’m glad you’re coming.”

…

At the hospital, I’m hit by memories of Emma in the emergency room after what Shitbag Steve did to her. With her left arm in a temporary splint today, she looks like she did the night he beat the life out of her. It’s immediately triggering, and I can feel the scalding rage that wants to consume me. It’s pounding at the gates of my mind, begging to be let out. Begging to take control.

But I don’t let it. I can’t afford to lose control now. I force myself to breathe through it.

This isn’t Steve. This is a concrete staircase. The staircase didn’t do this to hurt her. My job right now is to be her brother, not her bodyguard.

“Hey, Em. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here. And the pain meds are helping.” She gestures to her arm. “The doctor said the break’s clean, but it’s in a spot that needs pins and a plate. Surgery tomorrow morning, I think.”