“Did I mention that Michael is going to move to New York?” I asked Emmy that night while we relaxed in the living room. Of course, I had my computer on my lap and was dealing with emails, so it wasn’t really like snuggle time level of relaxing, but still… we were enjoying the lights of the city below us, and the heat of the fireplace beside us. Jeremy had already cleaned up after dinner and gone to his room, so it was just us.

  “You told me that he had been giving it some thought,” Emmy replied, looking up from her iPad. She took a sip of the English wine that Jeremy had found and bought more as a joke than anything else. “He wishes to be closer to Jassie when she goes to university.”

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “Although it’s still something like a three and a half hour drive from New York City to Williamstown, so it isn’t as if it’s just right there. Still, that’s close enough that she could visit for weekends.”

  “But that is not the only reason, is it?” Emmy asked.

  “No,” I admitted. “It’s looking as if all our outreach work is going to be happening on the Eastern Seaboard from now on out, so being where the action is happening only makes sense. You know he was planning on leaving the South Bay once Jassie graduated, anyway, so instead of moving down to LA to be near us he’ll be moving to Brooklyn to run things.”

  “Brooklyn?” Emmy asked, her brow creasing.

  “Yeah, we found a nice condo right by the water. It has a great view of Manhattan, and the building has a really solid security program. An actual manned entry into the parking garage, a security guy at the front door, cameras, all that kind of thing. I doubt Michael is really at any risk, but better safe than sorry.”

  “I have never asked, but does he have protection? We would be lost without him,” Emmy said.

  “Yeah, he always travels with one of the hitters,” I said. “Like you said, he’s vitally important to the organization.”

  “Jassie will be safe at university?”

  “As safe as any college freshman girl ever is,” I said with a shrug. “She’s taken self defense lessons from Grant, so she’s got that going for her. He also taught her what to do to avoid getting kidnapped and what to do if it happens. She should be fine.”

  “I hated those lessons when I was a child,” Emmy said, looking off into the distance. “It is no fun being locked in the trunk of a car.”

  “I guess I’d never thought about it, but yeah, I can imagine your parents had the same concerns,” I said, setting my laptop aside and scooting next to Emmy to put an arm around her shoulder. “We’re going to have to do that with our little girl, too.”

  “Yes, I know,” Emmy agreed. “It seems cruel to subject a child to those harsh lessons, but I do understand the value. I did, even as a child myself. It did not make it any more pleasant, but I did understand the need.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, there are real downsides to being rich and famous,” I said. “Our little girl is going to have the best protection possible.”

  “I am certain that is true,” Emmy said, snuggling up against my side, her iPad forgotten on the coffee table. “I am certain you will teach her yourself.”

  “Nope, not me,” I said, enjoying the feeling of Emmy’s body next to mine.

  “No?”

  “My old boyfriend back in junior year at Fallbrook refused to teach me to snowboard when we went to Big Bear together,” I said.

  “That is a non-sequitur,” Emmy said, giving me a puzzled look.

  “He explained that his father had told him not to. His father had told him that trying to teach your girlfriend how to snowboard, or surf, or drive- anything, really- was an invitation to hurt feelings and resentment. His dad said that I should take lessons from the pros, so if I got mad at anybody, it wouldn’t be Chris.”

  “Ah,” Emmy nodded in understanding.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Yeah. As you can see, that bit of wisdom really stayed with me,” I said. “Teaching a kid how to escape from a car trunk while blindfolded and tied up seems like a perfect application of that principle.”

  Emmy’s sparkling laughter filled that big, open space. “Yes, I would imagine that it would,” she agreed. “Mooooom!” she said in a little girl’s plaintive voice. “I hate when you tie me up and throw me in the trunk! Can’t I ride in front with everybody else next time we go to Grandma’s house?"

  Laughing, I pulled Emmy up onto my lap. “Kid,” I said in a mock stern parental voice, “It’s the only way to keep you from complaining the entire drive.”

  “We are terrible!” Emmy said, her laughter lighting up the room.

  “No,” I contradicted. “We’re awesome. Which is why we’ll have other people do our dirty work for us.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are evil?” Emmy said, twisting around to look at me.

  “It’s come up a time or two,” I admitted, enjoying the light-hearted banter.

  “I am very certain it has,” Emmy confirmed. “But you are my evil.”

  “Yes,” I said, pulling her in close for a kiss. Emmy tried pushing against me to resist, but it did no good.

  “You are too strong!” she said when we broke the kiss. “You are made of iron!”

  “I am Iron Woman!” I said in my best Ozzy Osbourne voice (which, honestly, was pretty bad but Emmy got the reference anyway).

  “Leah,” Emmy said, her voice softer, indicating that she was turning serious. “Would you like to hear some of my new music? I have not shared any of it with anybody at all, but I think…”

  “I’d love to, babe,” I assured her. “Like I said the other day, share it if you want. I’d be happy to listen to anything, no matter how personal.”

  Making up her mind, Emmy got up off my lap and offered her hand to me to lead me to the little-bitty home studio.

  Emmy had me sit in the office chair facing the production desk while she reached over and cued up a track on the computer, setting it to output to the speakers rather than headphones.

  “It’s war!” erupted from the speakers, Emmy’s voice an angry scream. As the last syllable faded away her guitar took up the note seamlessly, gradually becoming more and more distorted as the furious riff progressed.

  Emmy had used some sort of generic Pro Tools rhythm section for the demo (which was essentially what this was) and the production was of relatively low quality, but the rage conveyed by the guitar was very, very real.

  “War!” Emmy screamed again to finish out the otherwise completely instrument track, her voice raw and tortured.

  “I do not think this has any commercial appeal,” Emmy said with a wry smile. “But I had to express myself.”

  “You certainly did that,” I agreed. “And yeah, maybe this one never gets released to the public.”

  “Here is another one that I have been working on, but I am not satisfied with it. It is not….” she said, cuing up another track.

  Unlike the War song, this one started off with a soft Spanish-style guitar, playing a beautiful, melancholy melody. Emmy’s voice, when it made its appearance at least a minute and a half into the song, was soft, a gentle lullaby.

  “The night sky is brighter now,” she sang sweetly, in complete contrast to the last track. “A new star shines down, its light reminding me of you.” Emmy never expressly called out Angela’s name or directly referenced what had happened, but anybody would know it was a song of loss and remembrance, and probably who it was about. “I kiss the sky, hoping the wind carries my love to you,” was the last line as the guitar faded away.

  It took me a few long moments to compose myself after that, moments spent holding Emmy tightly against me as tears flowed down my face.

  “Em,” I said, “I miss her so much.”

  “I do, too,” Emmy replied, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “It hurts so much, Leah. So very much.”

  “I know, baby,” I said, rubbing her back. “I know it does.”

  “How do you do it?” Emmy asked, her voice barely audible. “How do you stay so strong?”

  “I fake it,” I told her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m hurting inside, too.”

  “You hide it well,” Emmy said. “I did not mean that to sound the way it did,” Emmy said, catching herself. “I meant that you present to the world as if you are dealing with the loss well.”

  “I guess I’ve been leaning hard into my stone cold image,” I admitted. “Maybe even convincing myself a little bit.”

  “You are stone,” Emmy said grabbing a handful of my side. “Not cold, though.”

  I appreciated her attempt to change the subject, so I ran with it. “Sixteen per cent body fat, according to the test today,” I told her. “But it was old-school calipers, not hydrostatic weighing, so who knows how accurate it really is.”

  “Have you ever been weighed for body fat?” Emmy asked, looking up at me.

  “Sure. Every season at Stanford we all had to go to the sports science lab and get tested,” I told her. “VO2 max, body fat percentage, muscle fiber analysis, the whole works. We all hated it, but it had to be done,” I told her.

  “And get your naked picture taken,” Emmy teased.

  “That was just the one time, and it was for a good cause,” I objected. “And you couldn’t really see anything, anyway.”

  “I have a copy of that photo on my phone,” Emmy confessed. “I like to look at it when we are apart.”

  Laughing, I lifted her up to my level and gave her a kiss.

  “How are you so strong?” Emmy demanded, draping her arms on my shoulders.

  “Lots of very hard workouts,” I told her. “Very hard workouts.”

  “I want you to use that strength tonight,” Emmy said. “I want you to make me remember that we are still alive and that love still exists. I want you to make me forget everything else.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said, cupping her butt in my hands to carry her upstairs to our bedroom.

  “This does not even seem difficult for you,” Emmy remarked as I climbed the steps with Emmy in my arms.

  “You hardly weigh anything,” I told her. “I wouldn’t be able to carry Jeremy up these stairs.”

  Emmy’s delighted laughter at the thought made me smile, too.

  Tinea And Leah (a cyberpunk novel here on Royal Road. It was originally a fanfic of Stray Cat Strut, also here on RR, but has since surpassed its source material and gone beyond), has graciously given Emmy And Me a little corner of their Discord channel.

  Emmy And Me's Discord Channel.

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