Needing Him

by Kennedy Fox

  “If he doesn’t, call the cops and tell them where you are so they can scare him off at least.”

  “I will.”

  The car lights get closer, and I know he’s gaining speed now that we’re out of the city. Shit, shit, shit.

  Quickly, I pull up Evan’s contact info and call him.

  “Dr. Bell,” he answers in a flat tone.

  “Evan, I need your help.” I get right to the point because the closer the car gets behind me, the harder my heart pounds in my chest.

  “Emily, what is it?” he asks in a panic, rushed voice.

  I quickly give him a rundown of my patient’s husband and how he came after me because he blames me for Susan’s death. I explain how someone’s been following me since I left work, and I’m almost positive it’s him. He asks a few questions about what took place, and when I tell him all the crazy things Richard did, his breath hitches.

  “Call the cops, and whatever you do, don’t stop the car. I’m already on my way home and should only be about ten minutes behind you, but I’m picking up speed as soon as I can.”

  “Then he’ll know I know it’s him.” I explain the same thing I said to Kiera. “I’d rather just lose him, so I don’t give him another reason to come after me.”

  “He should know you know, Emily!” he barks. “He should know he can’t get away with this, and that you aren’t going to tolerate it.”

  Fuck, he’s right. I have no idea what Richard’s gone through over the past year or if he’s even more dangerous than before. He’d threaten me with his words and say my boyfriend or father should die because “an eye for an eye.” At first, his threats were just empty words, but then he’d show up at my job, and I’d catch him walking outside my condo building. I notified the police of his stalking and verbal threats, but the most I could do was get a restraining order. Only if he violated it could they take him into custody. However, he stopped or got smarter. Either way, he’s back, and I know he’s out for blood this time. He wouldn’t have tracked me down after all this time if he wasn’t seeking revenge.

  “Okay, I’ll call them right now,” I tell him.

  “Call me back as soon as you can.”

  “I will.”

  “And just keep driving on that road. Don’t stop or pull over or slow down.”

  “Okay.” My lips tremble.

  “Emily.” He says my name in a low, gravelly voice, making my body shiver.

  “Yes?”

  “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll be behind you in just a few minutes.”

  After hanging up, I call the cops and explain everything to the operator. I give her my license plate number and a description of Richard’s car along with the mile marker, so they can find me. She reassures me an officer will be on their way within fifteen minutes, which doesn’t give me a lot of comfort, considering how long he’s already been following me.

  Looking up in the mirror again, I see another set of headlights as they start to pass the car behind me. When I see it’s a big truck, I know it’s Evan. Relief washes over me knowing I’m not alone.

  “Emily,” he says when I call him back.

  “An officer is on the way,” I tell him.

  “Good. This asshole isn’t letting me pass.”

  I look and see he’s riding my ass even closer. “Shit. What should I do? Should I speed up, so you can pass him and get behind me?”

  “No, I’m going to speed up until I can pass both of you. Then once I’m in front, I’m going to slow down so you can pass me. Once you’re ahead of me, I’m going to close the gap between us, so if he tries to pass, he won’t be able to. He’ll have to pass both of us or stay behind me.”

  Sucking in a breath, I agree to his plan. “Then what?” I ask.

  “Then we wait for the cop to show up. He’ll either drive away or get pulled over. Then we stop and speak with the officer, and you can file a report against him for breaching his restraining order.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stay on the phone with me,” he orders. “I’m about to pass you.”

  Evan revs his engine loud and hard as he speeds around Richard’s car. When I look over, he gains more speed and drives ahead of me. Once he gets back in the lane, he slows down just enough for me to pass him.

  “Be careful,” he tells me.

  “You be careful,” I tease.

  “I meant be careful and don’t hit my truck. It’s my baby.”

  I release a small chuckle at the sound of him calling his truck that. “Of course, you’d have feelings for your precious truck.” I’m tempted to say something about him being capable of having feelings for an object but not women, but I clamp my mouth shut. Now isn’t the time.

  “She has a name,” he informs me, but I hear the smile in his voice.

  “Probably after a porn star.” I snort, pulling my car around his and gaining speed.

  “How you going to give me shit when I’m the one helping you?” he muses, but his teasing tone isn’t lost on me. This is what we do. Neither of us can be serious with each other for too long. “You going to pass me or what?”

  “I am!” I defend, pressing my foot down harder on the gas. When I look in the rearview mirror, I see Richard following close behind me, trying to keep up with me as I pass. I knew he wasn’t going to let me go that easy. Considering this is a two-lane road with dangerous curves, I push on the gas harder, picking up my speed.

  “This asshole thinks I’m letting him in?” Evan growls, noticing Richard is trying to pass too. “This will show him.” Evan swerves into Richard’s lane, which causes him to brake hard.

  “Oh my God, Evan.” This is all escalating way too quickly.

  “I think I confused the fuck out of him.”

  I know Richard is thrown off because he jerks his car behind Evan’s truck. Looking in my mirror, I watch as Evan stays inches from my bumper and successfully blocks Richard. Relief floods through me for a moment, and I feel safer than I did before. “There.”

  “Okay. Now slow down, and I’ll stay on your ass.”

  Unable to control myself, I laugh at his choice of words.

  “Get your head out of the gutter, Dr. Bell.”

  “I didn’t say a word. However, you’re the one who lives in the gutter, so maybe you should be telling yourself that.”

  “Well—” he starts but cuts his words off. “Motherfucker,” he mutters, and I know something’s wrong.

  “What?” I ask, panicked.

  “He’s trying to pass again.”

  “What the hell?” I groan, confused by what this guy thinks he’s going to accomplish by doing this.

  “Just stay put. I’m keeping up with your speed, so he can’t wedge in, and the only option he has is to pass us both and be ahead of you.”

  “Okay.” I look in my side mirror and see Richard’s headlights approaching. I brace myself to see his face as he passes me, but he remains in the left lane. “What the hell is he doing?” I whisper, though I know he can’t hear me. If another car comes in the other lane, he’ll hit them head-on. There are too many curves. This is too dangerous. Panic coats me like a warm blanket, and I just pray an innocent person doesn’t get hurt because this asshole is driving in the wrong lane.

  “He’s waiting for me to let him in. Not gonna happen, dickwad,” Evan mutters, revving his engine.

  “What does he think—” my words are cut off when I feel a small bump on the side of my car. “Oh my God did he just—”

  “Fuck!” Evan’s words echo in my ear as Richard continues to drive beside me.

  “He hit my car!” I shriek. “Evan, what do I do?” I grip the steering wheel tightly and take a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

  Before Evan can respond, the line goes dead. Just when I’m about to hit redial, I look over and see Richard veering into my lane at a much faster rate. Before I can do anything, he crashes into the side of me again, this time causing my head to hit the side window. The wheels of my car straddle th
e shoulder and gravel, and by some miracle, I’m able to recover control. Headlights appear in the opposite lane, heading straight toward us, and to avoid a head-on collision, Evan is forced to make room. Risking someone else's life isn’t worth it. Having no choice but to move, Richard quickly jerks his car behind me, but overcorrects and slightly loses control. We’re right back to square one.

  “Shit!” Not knowing what else to do, I drive faster and try to keep watch in my mirrors. Just as I’m about to call Evan back, Richard flashes his brights and practically blinds me. I flick the rearview mirror to save my eyes and lose my train of thought when I’m slammed into from behind at a high speed. “Fuck,” I curse. My head jolts backward from the impact and smacks against the headrest. My adrenaline rushes, and I put all my focus on the road as I slightly weave from pavement to gravel to pavement again. I’m almost in shock. I didn’t expect him to do that.

  Evan’s loud truck comes barreling down the left lane with his window rolled down and points for me to pull over. With Richard right on my ass, I don’t know how I’m going to do that without him slamming into my car more aggressively than before. My heart pounds in my chest, and I halfway wonder if I’m going to make it out of this alive. As I round the bend, I jerk the car onto the shoulder, and Evan is somehow able to cut him off again as I begin to slow. I brace myself for a side impact, but Richard speeds past me as if nothing happened. My car comes to a stop once I hit gravel, and I put it into park and try to catch my breath. Police lights flash behind me, and then I hear sirens. No wonder Richard kept going. Chicken shit.

  I step out of the car because I need air and my chest feels tight. Everything from my past floods in fast and almost knocks me over. How can this all be happening again? My entire world is caving in around me, and the effort to come out on top is going to bury me alive.

  Once my feet touch the ground, I walk a few steps and lose my footing. No matter what I do, nothing can stop me from falling. I try to brace myself, but it doesn’t help. I land the exact wrong way and close my eyes tight right before my forehead crashes into the sharp edge of a large rock that’s protruding from the ground. Maybe if I lie there, all of this will go away, and I’ll wake up and realize it was a bad dream. Though I feel weak, I try to the find the strength to push myself up. I hear Evan’s truck pull up, then feet running on gravel toward me. With strong arms, he lifts me to my feet and holds me steady.

  “Emily!” I hear him shouting, but it sounds distant. My heart thumps in my ears as my eyes struggle to stay open. “Emily, are you okay?” Evan keeps a tight grip on me as he searches my face. “Shit, you have a cut on your head.”

  I groan, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart rate down. Lifting my hand, I finally feel the warmth of the blood. When I look down at it on my fingertips, it’s still hard for me to register.

  “Say something,” he demands. “Keep your eyes open.”

  “I can’t,” I barely mutter the words out. “My chest is tight, and my head is pounding. I’m a little dizzy.” And I might throw up, but I keep that to myself.

  “Jesus.” He guides me to his truck as he waves the cop down.

  “Stay with me, Emily. Sounds like you’re having a panic attack. Take slow, even breaths.”

  I’ve had panic attacks before, but nothing to this extent. Everything closes in around me, sucking the air right out of my lungs. My eyelids are heavy, and my palms are sweaty against my skin. My body is already starting to feel stiff from the impact.

  This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now.

  “Is she hurt? Does she need medical attention?” the officer asks before speaking into his radio.

  Evan tells him he’s taking me to the hospital and that we’ll give our statements there.

  “Follow me,” the officer tells him. Evan puts me in his truck and shuts the door. He jumps into the driver’s side, and soon, we’re taking off.

  “What about my car?” I mumble, trying like hell to stay focused, so I don’t pass out.

  “I’ll call a tow truck. That asshole broke a taillight and did some damage to your bumper.”

  Ugh. Motherfucker.

  The lights from the city reflect inside the truck, and I know we’re close now. I’m dreading walking into the same ER where we work, knowing it’s going to raise questions especially since Evan is with me. Hopefully, he’ll tell them all to mind their business, but like I keep hearing: small town, big mouths.

  “Evan,” I say as he pulls into the parking lot.

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t respond, but within minutes, he’s back at my side, pulling me out of the truck.

  “I can walk.” I try to stand, but he tightens his hold in response.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rest my head on his chest and focus on the rapid beating of my heart. Except now I don’t know if it’s from the panic attack or the fact that Evan Bishop is holding me as if his life depends on it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  EVAN

  Veronica notices me the second I walk in carrying Emily. She rushes to my side, and I immediately ask her which beds are open. I’m staying strong for Emily’s sake, but I’m boiling with anger inside as the realization of what happened hits me hard in my gut. Richard could’ve driven her right off the road, her car could’ve rolled over, and her condition could be much worse right now.

  “Put her in bed thirteen,” she tells me, leading the way. “What happened?”

  I give her a brief rundown as the officer stands nearby. Emily is pale, and the cut on her forehead is bleeding. She might have a concussion from whiplash or the fall, depending on how hard she hit her head, but I need to lay her down first and make sure her heart doesn’t burst out of her chest.

  Dr. Moody walks in with Fiona as I’m putting pressure on Emily’s bleed. Veronica hands me supplies so I can clean her and examine it to see if she needs stitches. I ask her the same questions she’s asked patients many times.

  “You shouldn’t be doing that,” Dr. Moody barks. “You’re off the clock. Let me look at her.”

  “I’ve got it,” I clip. “She smacked her head and might have whiplash. There’s a cut on her head that needs to be cleaned. She was also having trouble breathing.”

  “It’s just a panic attack,” Emily mutters, glancing over at the police officer standing in the hallway.

  “Veronica, give her fluids and an order for alprazolam.”

  “Do you have these often?” Dr. Moody asks Emily. I’m relieved when she shakes her head.

  “I’ve had a few over the past year, but nothing regular,” she admits.

  “Do you want a psych evaluation?” he asks, resting his palm on top of her wrist, and it takes everything inside me not to rip off his hand. “It might help if you target the triggers leading to them and lower the severity.”

  I turn my head and roll my eyes. Emily isn’t just a regular patient; she’s a goddamn doctor. She knows this shit.

  “Her trigger is getting hit in her car and nearly getting run off the road,” I blurt out, bringing everyone’s attention to me. I give them a quick rundown on Richard—who he is, and why he’s after Emily.

  “Evan’s right.” Emily speaks up, breaking the awkward silence once they learn of the situation. “I’m okay.” Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and I know she’s trying to be brave in front of everyone.

  “Can Dr. Bell get some privacy?” I snap. “It’s not helping her to have an audience right now.”

  “He’s right,” Veronica chimes in. “I’ll finish her IV and give her the Xanax as soon as the order is filled.”

  Dr. Moody gives me a pointed look, and I know he’s not happy with me, but I don’t give a shit. Emily and I may bump heads ninety-nine percent of the time, but I’d never want her to get hurt.

  “Here’s my number,” the officer says, entering the room and handing me his business card. “Call when she’s feeling up to it,
and we’ll get her statement for the police report.”

  “Thank you,” Emily and I both say.

  “It’ll be within the next day or two,” I tell him. That asshole isn’t getting away with this.

  The room clears after Veronica hands her the pills, and then it’s just Emily and me alone. She tilts her head and looks at me as I take another look at her cut.

  “It’s gonna bruise,” I say softly, getting my tools ready to stitch it up. “But fortunately, you’ll live.” I smirk.

  “Thanks to you,” she says with a grin. “However, if I had died tonight, I would’ve been really pissed I had no underwear on, and the coroner would’ve seen an eyeful.”

  I burst out laughing, completely forgetting I’d put them in my pocket. “Guess that’ll teach you to always have a spare pair on you.”

  “You’re relentless, you know that?” she quips.

  “We should talk about today,” I say in all seriousness. “But later.”

  “No, we don’t have to.” Her eyes lower as I bring my hands up to her forehead and start the sutures.

  “It’s a deep cut, but it shouldn’t scar,” I tell her once I’m finished, needing to fill the silence.

  “Dang. No sexy battle wound?” she mocks, lifting a finger to her head. Looks like the Xanax is kicking in.

  “Do you have a headache or feel any neck pain? I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

  “No, Dr. Bishop. Just a little sore,” she tells me with a lifted eyebrow.

  “Let’s get you discharged then,” I say, fighting to hold back a smirk at the goofy smile on her face. Grabbing her hand, I help her move to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to drive you home tonight and call for your car in the morning, okay?”

  “That’s not necessary. I’ll just call Kiera.”

  Studying her face, I realize it’s probably for the best if I don’t drive her home tonight because then I’ll be tempted to stay and watch over her. “I’ll call her,” I say, reaching for my phone.

  Emily’s discharge papers arrive, and Veronica checks her stats one more time before taking out the IV. Thankfully, her heartbeat has steadied to normal, and her dizzy spells aren’t as bad. She looks so vulnerable sitting on the hospital bed, and I feel an urge to hold her in my arms right now. Tonight was tense as hell, but I’m so relieved she’s okay. If I ever come face-to-face with that Richard guy, there’s no telling what I might do. The bastard is lucky he drove off when he did.