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Emmy And Me
Hidden Tiger

Hidden Tiger

Emmy needed all the rest she could get, so I kept my phone on silent mode and didn’t answer it for anybody. I just let the voicemails and texts pile up while I stayed there by Emmy’s side. Emmy mostly slept, and as much as I would have liked to keep her company in that, my mind just wouldn’t stop.

I tried to steer my thoughts away from Angela’s last moments on this Earth, but the image of her blood pouring out and the life leaving her eyes wasn’t one I could ever forget. Every time my mind wandered in that direction I did my best to turn to happier thoughts of Angela posing in Catalina, or the feel of her thigh under my hand as we drove with the guys. Angela didn’t deserve her end. She should have lived to grow old and watch our girls make lives of their own- the life I’d promised her.

Rafael had tried to make it clear that wallowing in grief wasn’t going to do me any good, and while I knew that to be true intellectually, emotionally was a different matter. I’d failed in my basic duty to keep her safe, and that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I had promised Rafael that I would deliver retribution to those who’d sent the killers, and that was on my mind as well. Obviously the place in Brooklyn was where we were going to start, but patience would reap rewards in that regard. That group needed time to convince themselves that they were safe and I wasn’t about to rain thunder and lightning bolts down on them, and to resume their old patterns of behavior. Then, when we knew they were back to their complacent selves, we’d kick in their door and wipe them clean out. Mia had confirmed to her father that all but one of the group that attacked us had been members of that cell, so there was no doubt that’s where our path lay.

I took a stroll once I was certain Emmy would be sound asleep for a while to make some calls, and was pleasantly surprised to find Eddie and Nick standing guard outside the room.

“I’m going to need to talk to you guys at some point soon,” I said, and they nodded their understanding, but didn’t waver from suspiciously staring at everybody that came anywhere near.

I asked around and got directions to one of the small conference rooms so I could make my calls in private. When I closed the door behind me it did a great job of shutting off the sounds of the busy hospital, which pleased me. The last thing I needed was for any orderly to overhear me making plans to kill people mercilessly.

First up was a call to Mom to tell her what had happened. She’d been one of those who’d left voicemail- apparently she caught the news’ coverage of events. I managed to make it through the conversation without collapsing into tears, but I think that was because I’d pretty much cried myself out already that day.

I lied and told Mom I had no idea who the attackers were, but Emmy, like any controversial public figure, had her share of weirdos out there who didn’t like her.

“Lee,” Mom cautioned. “Let the police do their job. Just step away, mourn your loss, and don’t become bitter and vengeful. You know what they say about digging two graves.”

“I will, Mom,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t have any idea where to look, or have the resources to find any other members of this group, if they even exist,” I said. I hated lying to her, but had no real choice. “I mean, heck, the nine that attacked us might have been all of them.”

“Lee, they said on the news that you- I mean, you in particular- killed most of the attackers, even though they were armed. Is this true?” Mom asked.

“Mom,” I said, my voice quiet. “I killed six of them, and Grant and Jeremy killed the other three. Mom- this is important. Some fans in the crowd got the whole thing on video, and I guess it’s all over online. Do me a favor and try to keep Tiff from seeing that, please?”

“Oh, Lee,” Mom sighed. “I wish I could. I’ve heard about the video and they showed a little bit of it on the news, but you know how it is. If Tiffany hears about it and wants to see it, there’s no way I can prevent that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, knowing she was right.

“Give my love to Emmy,” Mom said at the end of the call. “I guess she wants to continue the tour? I don’t think that’s a great idea, but I guess I can understand where she’s coming from. But yeah, give her my love and tell her that if she ever needs somebody to talk to- or if you do, too- have her call me.”

“I will,” I promised, sure it would never happen.

“Michael, Emmy’s going to recover,” I said when he answered his phone in the first ring. “She lost the baby, and that and Angela’s death hit her really hard, but you know she’s tough. She’ll recover physically pretty soon, but I’m afraid it’ll be a while emotionally.”

“Killing infants or young children is the greatest harm a Night Child can commit. Emmy is correct in saying that this was a message. If all they’d wanted to do is to kill Emmy for her visibility they would not have bothered with Angela. The fact that they did target her, a pregnant woman known as Emmy’s family member, that speaks volumes. This was intended to be a message that any Night Children would recognize.”

“Yeah, I got that,” I sighed. “And that was my mistake. One of them,” I corrected. “I’d always assumed that Angela wouldn’t be drawn into all this, since she’s a day walker and not part of the New Nation.”

“But she was known to be in a committed relationship to Emmy, and known to be pregnant- possibly carrying a surrogate baby of Emmy’s. The fact that Emmy might soon have two heirs… That was too much for them. They needed to end Emmy, and also end her future,” Michael said. “Although they failed to kill Emmy, they will be celebrating killing the two babies. This was a major victory for them. Losing their nine assassins was worth the price.”

“That won’t be the only price they pay,” I said.

“No, I don’t think it will be. Our people are in an uproar over this. Virtually every single one of our people would gladly rush into battle to avenge Emmy’s murdered child.”

“Can we use that?” I asked, thoughts coalescing in my head.

“If you need an army, you will have it,” Michael said.

“No, I think that we have that covered,” I said. “No, I’m thinking about informational warfare. Our assessment is that this attack was carried out by the group in New York, right? But the actual attack happened in Atlanta, almost a thousand miles away. How about we get everyone we can easily mobilize to swamp the Atlanta area. Make a show of searching for the perpetrators here, and run silent in New York.”

“I see,” Michael said. “Word will reach them in New York that we are looking in the wrong place, and they will think that they have escaped detection.”

“Right,” I said. “Misdirect. Grant is going to Cleveland to train about twenty of our hitters so when things line up we can be ready for fast deployment, but if we have our enemies focusing on what’s happening in Atlanta…”

“I’ll coordinate it immediately,” Michael said. “We’ll be on the ground there in Georgia within forty-eight hours.”

Jody was my next call. I asked him how security was going there in Colombia, and he told me that things had been peaceful. I told Jody that Grant was going to need him and any hitters they could spare from Cartagena to join him in Ohio for some fortified location invasion training. He said that he and three others could be on a plane the next day.

“I’m going to have a hard time keeping anybody here,” he told me. “When we got the news, the guys all went freaking ballistic. Everybody has taken this personal like you wouldn’t believe. Everyone wants to get in on the action.”

“Grant is sure that we don’t need any more than twenty at the most, plus you, me, and him. Any more would just be a cluster.”

“You understand that, I understand that, and Grant for sure understands that, but the guys… They want blood. They want it bad,” Jody said.

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“We’ll have our blood, but you and Ricky need to make it clear that continuing our outreach and growing our New Nation is also a victory against these people. They wanted to shut us down, so doing just the opposite is just as important for us to beat them,” I said. “Frame it like that- we’re winning, and this attack was an act of desperation. As long as we keep moving forward, those who oppose us lose ground.”

“Yeah, and while that may well be true, the guys that are going to be left here aren’t going to be happy,” Jody cautioned.

“How many guys will that be?” I asked.

“Well, we brought six hitters…”

“So, two will stay?” I asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” Jody confirmed.

“Alright. Whoever your best guy is down there, leave him, even if he’s one that you’d think we could use up here. Put him in charge of a special job. You heard about that Luis Cardeño asshole, right? Drop the hint that he might have somehow been involved in planning or funding that attack. He’s probably in Bogotá. Set your remaining guys to tracking him down and taking him out as quietly as possible,” I said.

“Um, why? I mean, what’s the point?” Jody asked. “He didn’t really have anything to do with the attack, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” I confirmed. “But I’m feeling particularly fucking spiteful right now and he did scare and hurt Angela, so he deserves it anyway. A quick knife between his ribs in an alley is the least I can do for Angela and her family, even if they never hear about it.”

“And it keeps the guys down here focused,” Jody said, understanding.

“Leah,” Jody said, changing the topic. “We’ve all seen the videos. When we get a few and we’re in the same place at the same time, I think we need to do a debriefing. We need to analyze where things went wrong and where they went right.”

“Yeah, we do,” I admitted. “Grant and I haven’t really had time to go over things, so maybe when we all get together… I’m pretty sure I know how we fucked up, but it would be good to hear your analysis.”

“Alright, I’ve got my marching orders,” Jody said. “See you in Cleveland.”

I didn’t want to call anybody else, so I just went down the line and responded by text to everything that I could. I kept it minimal with the Saturday drive guys, even though between the lot of them (well, mostly Jimmy, to be fair) they’d sent nearly forty texts. I just confirmed that yes, Angela had been killed, and it was going to be a little while before I got back. “I have some shit I need to take care of”, I said, and left it at that.

I was quite a bit more forthcoming with James Atherton. His texts had shown a lot of concern for me and Emmy, as well as mourning the loss of a truly special human being. I relayed what had happened, and that Emmy refused to back down and the tour would continue, to make a point as much as anything else.

He responded almost immediately to my text, saying that he and Imogen would be thinking of us and if we needed anything, even just someone to talk to, don’t hesitate. Grateful for their friendship, I said I’d pass the message on to Emmy. I’d also definitely give him a call when I had a chance to catch my breath, I told him.

“If you and Em need a place to hide from the world for a while, let me know. My family has a summer house on an island in Connecticut- we own the whole island, so lots of privacy. It’s yours if you need it.” he offered.

“That sounds pretty good, but it’ll have to wait until after the tour. Two more months, maybe?” I replied. “I’ll talk to Emmy about it.”

“The offer is open. Any time at all.”

I wrote up a mass email for all my Heads, telling them that due to personal events I was going to have to take some time off from my duties with Royal Holdings. Only email me if it’s extremely important, I wrote. Please let any clients know that I’d be back, but I wasn’t sure how soon that would happen, I instructed.

Back in Emmy’s room, I found the nurse checking Emmy’s vitals.

“The doctor says that if everything looks O.K. she may discharge me this evening,” Emmy said.

“How do you feel? Are you ready to get out of here?” I asked.

“I am very ready,” she said with a weak smile.

“One more day in Atlanta, then we need to be on a plane to Miami,” I said. “Will you be able to manage that?”

“I will,” Emmy said, her voice a little more confident.

“Em,” I said, my voice turning soft. “Angela’s funeral will be in Cartagena three days after your second Miami show. If you think it’ll be too much…”

“I would not miss that for anything,” Emmy declared. “There is nothing that could keep me from her memorial. Nothing on Earth.”

We did spend that night at the new hotel Stephanie had booked for us. I was very glad she’d done that, since the window of our suite at the ballpark hotel had looked directly down on the plaza where Angela had been killed and I never, ever wanted to see that place again in my life.

Emmy was still very weak and sore, so I helped her with her bath before bed. No fun soapy time, but it was a chance for me to show that I loved Emmy very much as I tenderly washed her hair and then her terribly abused body.

That night Emmy fell asleep in my arms after crying silently to herself for a very long time. I didn’t say anything- what could I possibly say that would make anything better? I just held her as my own eyes leaked onto the pillow. I fell asleep sometime after Emmy had finally drifted off. Thankfully my mind let me rest and the self-recrimination didn’t keep me awake for a second night in a row.

Stephanie called a band meeting the next morning. She wanted to make absolutely sure everyone really was O.K. with continuing the tour. Emmy was adamant that she was, and more or less forced the others to go along.

“Em, are ya gonna be able to do right by our fans?” Jackson asked, and it was clear that he was concerned both for Emmy and for the band’s professionalism.

“I cannot promise I will dance very much,” Emmy said, showing the first spark of humor I’d seen since the attack. “But yes, I will be able to play and to sing. I may ask you to do most of the patter, though.”

“Fair enough. You know we’re gonna have to address things, right?” he pressed.

“I know,” Emmy admitted. “And I will think of what to say before we go onstage.”

“Well, alright, then. I gotta trust that you know what’s best for you, but listen, if it gets too much or whatever…” Jackson said.

“Emmy, Jax is right,” Lee added. “Let’s play it by ear. If Miami goes fine, then let’s consider Houston. We’ve got a break of a week between those shows- maybe you can go home for a few days and rest, y’know?”

“Thank you both for understanding, This is very important to me and it would be impossible without you two supporting me in this. So, yes, Stephanie, if Miami is a disaster then I will reconsider. For now, though, I think we must plan to finish the tour,” Emmy said.

“You guys know Tino bailed, right? He had a front row seat to all the killing and it really fucked him up. He left for LA this morning. I told him there was a penalty in his contract and he said he didn’t care,” Stephanie said.

“Pay the man,” Jackson said. “None of us can blame him for freaking out about what happened. We’ll work around not having keyboards,” Jackson said with a shrug. “We got this.”

“Leah,” Stephanie said, turning to me. “Your law firm’s PR lady said that it would be best if you’re seen with Emmy as much as possible for a while. She said you should dress conservatively, classy, but not- and this is her word, not mine- ‘mannish’. She said you need to be seen as Emmy’s caring partner, supporting her through this very hard time. She said she tried to call you, but you’re not answering your phone.”

“That’s true- I’m not,” I admitted. “But her advice is noted.”

“So you’ll do it, then?” Stephanie asked.

“Well, I am Emmy’s caring partner and I did cancel all other obligations for the foreseeable future, so yeah,” I agreed.

“Now, none of this is ever gonna leave this room, got it?” Jackson said, looking around the room. “Only the five of us- not even Jen,” Jackson said, looking at Lee, “Ever hear of this convo. Got it?”

A bit puzzled, we all nodded.

“Now, I know that sure as shit you have some clue who these fuckers were, don’t you, Leah? And you’re already making plans to go after whoever it is that sent ‘em, right?” Jackson demanded.

“Yes,” was all I admitted to.

“Well, my best advice is to play it slow for now. We all know- I mean, if we had any fucking doubts before the other night, we sure don’t now. We all know you’re fucking stone cold. We know you have guys… But wait until after the tour, if you can. I’m sayin’ this as your friend, and as Emmy’s. Be there for her for now. Like Stephanie said the PR flack advised, be seen in public as Emmy’s caring wife. The whole world has seen the video of you just fuckin’ laying waste to those assholes, so you need to turn the public image of you into… well, hear me out,” Jackson said, thinking about what he wanted to say. “Leah, up until the other night, the world knew you as Emmy’s wife, right? Paparazzi pictures, red carpet photos, that stuff. If anybody did any Googling, they maybe knew you were a volleyball player. A little more, and they might know you’re into real estate, right? Well, now, everybody knows you as some sort of female John Wick. They saw you twist that guy’s head nearly off, then drop him and move on to the next guy without a second glance. They saw you pile drive a guy into the sidewalk so hard it smashed his head in, then turn and kick the knife out of another dude’s hand before moving in and punching his throat.”

Jackson took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “That shit just doesn’t happen outside of the movies. So lean into the movie archetype. Everybody loves James Bond, John Wick, dudes like that, right? Not just because they’re psychos- not sayin’ you’re a psycho, but you know what I mean- but because they do it with style and and a sort of… well, panache, right? So like Steph said the PR lady said, dress nice, conservatively. Be seen as a serious badass, but not one who advertises it. Picture, like, Sean Connery James Bond. Elegant, classy, but you know he’s a killer. Well, ain’t nobody gonna look at you and not think of that video, but if you dress well and speak softly and politely, they’ll understand that the tiger only comes out when it’s needed. If that makes sense,” Jackson finished.

“Jax is right,” Lee said. “I mean, we all knew, like he said, you have a tiger inside. Anybody who really looks into your eyes can tell. But we all also know that, like, that tiger isn’t an asshole. That tiger only comes out when it needs to. That is the image you need to, um, foster, I guess. Be calm, be cool, and be polite. Don’t give anybody the idea that you’re, like, some sort of loose cannon or something, liable to go off without warning.”

“They’re absolutely right,” Stephanie said. “We all know you, and know that’s true, but the world now needs to know it, too. As much as I hate to ever agree with any PR types, I have to this time.”

“I can do that,” I conceded. “I’ll be good.”