Emmy And Me

Looking up and seeing me approach at full speed, the assassin dropped Angela and brandished her knife at me. This did her no good. I grabbed her wrist with one hand and her throat with my other, squeezing for all I was worth. She tried to stab me, but I was much stronger and redirected her knife as she flailed wildly. The net result was that she stabbed herself at least half a dozen times before the blade fell from her lifeless hand. Throwing her down on the cement, I looked around but there were no more hostiles to be seen.

“You!” I yelled, pointing at a guy who had his phone out and was recording the whole thing. “Call 911 right now! Tell them we need cops, and a whole lot of ambulances!” When he just looked at me stupidly, I yelled at him again. “Fucking call 911, asshole!” This seemed to do the trick, and several other people who had witnessed the fight were rushing to do the same thing, just as the ballpark’s security guys ran up.

“You!” I yelled, pointing at the lead security dude. “Keep these people back from the scene! You, too!” I yelled, indicating the two other security types just arriving.

Realizing that the strange sound I was hearing was coming from behind me, I turned to see Emmy cradling Angela’s head in her lap, wailing, screaming in despair. There was nothing I could do there for the moment, and after ascertaining that Grant was looking after Tiny, I scanned the ground to see if any of the attackers could tell me anything but only two were still moving at all, and by the looks of them they weren’t going to be doing anything at all for very much longer.

I rolled one body over with my foot, only to realize with a shock that I recognized his face.

“Grant, come here,” I commanded. He looked up from where he was holding pressure of Tiny’s wound and asked what I wanted.

“Look at this guy,” I demanded, and after making sure Tiny could self-administer pressure, he did just that.

“It’s that window-checking fucker from New York, isn’t it?” he asked after taking a long look at the man’s lifeless face. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a quick photo, then went around and took pictures of the rest, completely ignoring the security guys telling him to stop that shit right now.

While he did that I pulled out my own phone and called my lawyer. Sure, it was one in the morning in San Francisco, but I didn’t give a fuck. I paid the man a ton of money and he knew to answer when I called, which he did on the third ring.

“Jim, I need the best defense lawyer you can find me in Atlanta. Right now,” I told him as I walked over to where Emmy was still wailing, holding Angela’s head in her lap. “I’ll either be at the Omni by the ballpark, or in jail,” I said, and once he said he’d get on it immediately I hung up.

I dropped to my knees behind Emmy and wrapped my arms around her. There was nothing I could say. There was nothing more I could do.

Soon the sirens announced the arrival of the ambulances and more police to add to the handful that had already gathered. When the EMTs arrived I told Grant to go with Tiny to the hospital- I’d go with Emmy.

“I cannot leave her!” Emmy cried, refusing to let the officers cover Angela’s body.

“Em,” I said, trying to pull her away gently. “You need to go to the hospital. I don’t want to leave her, either, but there’s nothing we can do for her now.”

Emmy turned to me, her face a mask of anger. “We could not protect her! This is our fault! We did this to her!”

“No, baby, it’s not our fault. That woman there did it to her, not us. We did our best.”

“Our best was not good enough!” Emmy said, furious.

“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed.

Finally I managed to gently pull Emmy away from Angela’s lifeless body and towards the waiting paramedic.

“Emmy, are you O.K.?” I asked, since she wasn’t standing straight.

“No,” she said, bending over a bit more. “I think…” she added, clutching her belly.

“Oh, fuck,” I said, nearly picking her up and carrying her to the nearest ambulance. “She’s pregnant- I think there might be something wrong with the baby!” I said to the EMTs. “Get her to the hospital right now!”

To their credit, they responded immediately and helped her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, but a policeman laid his hand on my arm just as I was about to climb in with them. I shook him off.

“If you want to talk, come to the emergency room,” I snarled at him, and he stepped back. At least a dozen people had seen us get attacked out of the blue, so there were plenty of witnesses for them to talk to. I hated leaving Angela lying on the astroturf, but like I’d said to Emmy, it was time to focus on those who still needed help. Our lovely, loving, precious Angela was beyond any help we could give her. She and her baby had been taken from us.

The emergency room nurses wheeled Emmy back immediately, but blocked my way. “She’s my wife!” I protested, but the doctor insisted that my being there would not make things go more smoothly, and besides, I needed to have my own injuries treated.

I tried to tell them that I wasn’t that hurt, but soon recognized that I probably should have the stab wound in my leg looked at.

Grant found me while the nurse was cleaning my cut, which really was starting to hurt.

“How’s Tiny?” I asked.

“He’s not in great shape, but it isn’t life-threatening,” Grant said, and I noticed he had some bandages, too.

“We really fucked that one up,” I said, and Grant instantly understood what I meant.

“Yeah, we fucking did,” he agreed. “They played it perfectly and caught us with our pants down around our ankles.”

“So, like, what actually happened?” the nurse asked as he prepared the suture kit for the doctor.

“After the concert tonight a bunch of hostiles blending in with the fans took us by surprise and jumped us,” I told him.

“The Downfall concert?” he asked, stabbing me repeatedly with a needle loaded with lidocaine, or whatever it was.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Wild,” the nurse said.

“They killed my pregnant wife. It was more than just ‘wild’,” I said.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he said. “You just seem so calm about all this.”

“There’s no point in freaking out now,” I said. “Shit happened. Now it’s time to sort things out and assess the damage. I can freak out later.”

“I guess,” he replied, but didn’t seem convinced.

The doctor showed up just then, accompanied by two uniformed policemen. He was about to shoo them away, but I stopped him. “It’s O.K. I can answer their questions while you sew me up.”

The officers asked me for my version of events, and I kept it short and succinct. I told them that we were attacked, and that I know that a number of the witnesses had recorded video of the whole thing, so there really should be no question about what actually happened.

“It seems strange, that a group of people armed with knives would just suddenly rush you with intent to murder,” one of the officers said.

“It took me by surprise,” I agreed, noticing that Grant had slipped out before they could talk to him.

“We got a lot of wild stories about what happened,” the second officer said. “A couple of witnesses said you went on some kind of rampage.”

“Is that what they said?” I asked.

“Said you killed most of the, uh, attackers.”

I looked him straight in the eyes, just long enough to make him squirm a little bit. “I think you guys need to get ahold of the videos. I’ve told you what happened. Watch the videos, and then tell me who went on a rampage and who defended themselves.” With that, I turned away and made it clear I was done with them, whether they were done with me or not. They seemed as if they were about to go to asshole mode when a perfectly groomed, impeccably dressed man in a suit joined us.

“I’m sorry, Officers,” he said, handing the nearer one a business card. “My client is done answering your questions, as are the rest of her party.”

Knowing that was all they were going to get, the two policemen grumbled, but took the card and left.

“Leah Farmer, I’m Tyler Mitchell. I’ll be your counsel until James Turner gets here in the morning. Now, please, what have you told the police?”

Finally sewn up, the doctors let me in to see Emmy, whose dried tears stained her sleeping face.

“We gave her a sedative,” the doctor said. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but she lost the baby.”

“Will she be O.K.?” I asked.

“Your wife… She suffered a traumatic blow, causing the death of the fetus. This is a serious injury, with very serious emotional ramifications, so I’d say no, she’s not O.K., but with your help, and professional therapy, she will hopefully be able to move past this-”

“You don’t know Emmy like I do,” I said, cutting her off. “In some ways, she’s harder than any of us. I’ll make sure she gets all the help she needs, but I meant physically.”

Taken aback, the ER doctor said, “She took a brutal kick to her abdomen, causing significant bruising and internal injuries. The loss of the fetus…” she trailed off.

“Yes, I get that,” I told her. “I really do. But what I want to know is how soon she can be up and moving. I’d like to get her home as quickly as possible.”

“I am not going home yet,” Emmy said, her voice weak and dulled by the sedative, but clear. “We must finish the tour.”

Moving to the side of the bed, I stroked Emmy’s hair. “I understand, baby,” I said, my voice soft. “But only if you physically can. Don’t endanger yourself further to make a point.”

“Make a point?” the doctor asked, appalled.

“I will not be bullied. Ever,” Emmy said, her voice gaining strength. “They wanted to silence me. I will not be silenced.”

“You’re going to need time to recover,” the doctor said, horrified at the idea that Emmy would even consider toughing it out and continuing.

“I have four days,” Emmy said, and it was clear her mind was made up.

After making sure Emmy knew I was going to be back in a few minutes, I went out to the waiting room to find Grant and maybe Tiny. As it turned out, pretty much everybody was there.

“How is Em doing?” Jackson asked, looking worried.

“She lost the baby,” I told him. Turning to Stephanie, I said, “We need to organize a press conference.”

“I would strongly recommend against that,” Tyler Mitchell the lawyer said.

“I understand, and we’re going to need your counsel on what we say, but we need to get ahead of the rumors, and we need to reassure everyone that the tour will continue.”

“What the fuck?” Lee and Jen said, almost in unison. Pretty much everyone else in the group had the same reaction, even if they didn’t say it.

“Emmy will insist on it. Her whole point is that this was an attempt to silence her, and she won’t give in, not even one tiny inch.”

“Can’t you talk some sense into her?” Stephanie asked. “I mean, if the money is an issue-”

“It has nothing to do with any monetary losses for canceling,” I said. interrupting her. “Steph, you remember that whole thing with that asshole football player back in our senior year? The guy that keyed her car, then punched her?”

“Um, yeah, Jack Merrick, right?” Stephanie said, unsure where I was going with this.

“That was the first time I saw how she was,” I said. “She knew he was going to punch her in the face, but she stood up to him anyway, even though he was like twice her size. This is the same thing. These assholes, like she said, wanted to shut her up, but she refuses to be silenced. She won’t ever, ever be bullied or intimidated by anyone, ever,” I said, looking around the group. “Those fuckers killed Angela and our unborn baby. They tried to kill Emmy, and did kill her baby, too. She absolutely will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her run and hide.”

“That is fucking bad-ass!” Jen breathed. “Bad fucking ass!”

“Right. So we need to have some sort of press conference to let everyone know that we were attacked and our wife and babies were killed in an attempt to end Emmy, but she won’t back down,” I said.

“Continuing the tour seems like a really bad idea,” Lee said, shaking his head.

“Lee, listen to me. Listen carefully. You and Jackson will continue, if you care at all about Emmy. It may well be a bad idea as far as her health goes, but she is dead set on continuing to prove that she will never surrender. If you don’t do this, she will never forgive you,” I said, looking Lee and then Jackson in the eyes. “This isn’t me saying this. This is Emmy. I know this aspect of hers, and it is as hard as a goddamned diamond.”

“Who were those people?” Lee asked, unable to meet my eyes.

“I don’t know,” I said, but I was pretty sure I had a good idea what group they actually represented.

Once the discussion finished with everyone agreeing to soldier on, I went to go find Grant and Tiny but Stephanie put a hand on my arm and pulled me aside.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she said. “But I just want to know how you feel about this.”

“I feel like a huge chunk of my life was just burned to ash in front of me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it,” I answered honestly.

“I mean about continuing the tour,” she said gently, her hand still on my arm.

“I’m worried for Emmy’s health and wish we could just go home, but honestly, I knew Emmy would react this way. Like I said, it’s a core part of her personality, and I respect that.”

“You know, what you said about high school, I remember that Emmy went to all her classes that day Jack punched her face in. Her eye was swollen shut, but she acted like she won the fight,” Stephanie said, remembering back.

“She did. That asshole got thrown in jail for that, you know. And from that day on, everyone at school knew she was a complete bad-ass, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so…” Stephanie said.

“Do this for Emmy. Set up a press conference. We need to make it clear that these assassins failed to intimidate her.”

“But they killed Angela!” Stephanie said.

“And they’re gonna pay like you wouldn’t believe,” I said.

“They already paid. God, Leah, you were like some sort of killing machine. You wiped out like five or six of them just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“Somebody sent them. That somebody hasn’t paid yet. But they will,” I said.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re unbelievably frightening?” Stephanie asked.

“I’ve heard that before, yeah,” I said.

“I don’t understand how you can be so cold, Leah. It’s like you’re a machine.”

“I’m compartmentalizing so hard right now you wouldn’t believe,” I said. “I don’t have time to think about things right now. When I do, I’ll be a wreck, but now, I have to stay focused and get the job done,” I told her. “The kindest, sweetest, most loving woman I’ve ever known was murdered right in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t stop it. If I let my emotions out I’d be no use to anyone. Right now I need to fight like hell for those of us still living. I need to be strong for Emmy.”

Stephanie let out a shaky breath. “I think I understand,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze before she turned back to the waiting room.