Stalking Emily Saving Emily

Blood Or Foe

EMILY

The library had become my sanctuary in Leo's glass fortress, where the city lights filtered through windows and made everything feel suspended between reality and dream. I was curled on the velvet couch, Leo's cashmere throw tucked around my legs, pretending to read the same paragraph about Renaissance art for the twentieth time.

My phone sat on the mahogany side table, it had been hours since Rowan's call. Leo had doubled the security, installed new locks, assigned me a shadow in the form of a former Marine named Darius who followed me around and pretended not to exist.

"You're safe here," Leo had said that morning, his hand heavy on my hip as we lingered in bed. "Trust me."

And I did. God help me, I did.

But trust didn't stop the gnawing guilt that my disaster was metastasizing, infecting everything I touched. My mother had left four voicemails I hadn't listened to.

The phone rang again.

I flinched so hard the book tumbled from my lap, it’s spine cracking against the hardwood. My eyes found the screen, expecting Rowan's number, the one that had burned itself into my retinas or worse, the Unknown Caller with its ghost-breathing silence.

Sarah.

My thumb shook as I answered.

Lord, let her not be in trouble.

"Sarah." My voice came out rough, unused. "Hey."

"Mom called me." No greeting. No ‘how are you, how's the city, are you eating.’ Just ice, sharp enough to cut. "Again. She's hysterical, Emily. Actually hysterical. Dad had to drive her to urgent care because her blood pressure spiked."

I sat up straighter, guilt immediate and suffocating. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." Sarah cut me off. "Physically. Mentally? She's been reading the blogs. Just like everyone else."

Leo appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the hall light. He didn't enter, just leaned against the frame, arms crossed, listening. I couldn't read his expression from here, but I felt his presence like a tether.

"What blog?" I asked, though I already knew. There was always news. There was always someone with a camera.

"Don't play stupid." Sarah's laugh was a blade dragged across stone. "The video. You and your boss." She loaded the word with so much filth I could practically smell it through the speaker. "Coming out of some restaurant. His hand on your ass. Your face all over TMZ again, Emily. Again."

I closed my eyes. “That’s not true. They twisted it. Sarah, it's not what it looks like."

"Then what is it?" Her voice climbed, shrill and breaking. "What is it, Emily? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you learned absolutely nothing from Dex. From Rowan. You're still the same girl who thinks spreading her legs is a career strategy."

Leo pushed off the door frame. I shook my head at him, sharp, don't, but he kept coming. Sat on the couch beside me. His arm slid around my shoulders, and I leaned into him despite myself, despite knowing Sarah would hear the shift in my breathing.

"I got a role," I whispered. It sounded pathetic even to me. "An acting job. I'm trying to fix things. Build something."

"An actress." Sarah laughed, and this time it was worse, pity wrapped in contempt. "Since when? You failed pre-med. You failed marketing. You failed at being a decent human being with Rowan."

"I didn't know he was married!" The words tore out of me, raw and ancient. "Sarah, I swear to God, I didn't know. He told me…"

"He told you what? That his wife didn't understand him? That you were special?" Her voice dropped to something almost gentle, which made it crueller. "Emily, you were twenty-six. You weren't some naive teenager. You made a choice. And now you're making the same choice with some billionaire who doesn’t give two scents about you"

"Leo," I interrupted, my voice shaking. "His name is Leo."

"Mom was right about you. You really do think you're the exception to every rule. That the world is just waiting to hand you things, because you're pretty and tragic."

Leo's hand found mine. Interlaced our fingers. I gripped him hard enough to hurt, but he didn't flinch.

"I have to go," I said.

"Of course you do. Run away. It's what you're good at." Sarah's breath hitched, and for a terrible moment I thought she might cry. Then: "My daughter came home crying yesterday. Did you know what happened to Lily? Some boy in her class asked her if her aunt was a whore."

The air left my lungs. "Sarah"

"She defended you." Her voice cracked, finally, emotion breaking through the armor. "My baby stood up in front of her whole class and said her aunt was good. That people were lying. And they laughed at her’"

Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't help it. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt her."

"Of course you didn't mean it. You never mean any of it. It's all just happening to poor Emily, isn't it? Poor Emily, who never catches a break, who everyone is so mean to for no reason." Sarah drew a shuddering breath. "Come home. Before you drag the rest of us down with you. Before, Lily has to spend her whole life explaining why her aunt is trending on Twitter."

I looked at Leo. His face was stone, but his thumb traced circles on my palm.

"I can't," I said. My voice broke, splintering around the words. "I can't come home, Sarah. I'm not... I'm not your embarrassment anymore."

"You've always been an embarrassment." The words landed like a slap and a tear managed to escape my tight hold. "I don't think you're capable of being anything else. And now you're out there embarrassing us on camera again, f*****g your boss for what? A penthouse? A designer wardrobe? For f**k's sake, Em, my daughter is being harassed because of you. Fix this, or we're done. I'm done."

The line went dead.