Fissure (The Patrick Chronicles 1)

A rapping came at the door as I was preparing to twist it open with only one thing on my mind. Revenge.

A trio of Scarlett brothers smashed in the doorway, their faces ranging from concerned to disturbed.

“Someone told us they saw Emma stumbling into the building looking like she’d been hit by a car,” Tex said, studying me in my enraged stupor, white knuckles gripping a baseball bat with both hands.

Stepping aside, I made room for them to pass. “Take a look at what your best buddy is capable of!” I shouted, aiming some of my anger at them for letting a monster like Ty slip under their radar.

They stood like a trio of statues beside Emma’s bed, looking like they were trying to confirm the battered woman in front of them was their little sister.

“Did any of you know about this? Did any of you know he was capable of this?” My voice shook with my rage.

“Excuse me?” Dallas said, getting in my face. “What did you say there, Babe Ruth?” He shoved his chest against mine, his anger jacking up to my level. “How do we know it wasn’t you who beat our sister all to hell with the butt end of your Louisville Slugger?”

That wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a man who was a hair away from snapping. I shoved him back into his brothers to give my arm some leverage to land a powerful punch. At the same time a black velvet covered pair of arms wrestled around me, two pairs of brother arms wrapped around Dallas.

“Patrick, knock it off,” Julia yelled, trying to hold a ticking time bomb back. “Come on, Emma doesn’t need this shit right now.”

“Stop, you guys,” Emma’s hoarse voice carried above the chaos of the room. “Don’t fight.”

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to let her words and my better judgment restore my willpower to refrain from throwing Dallas out the window.

“Shame on you,” I said, wondering if my nostrils were billowing smoke. “Shame on you,” I repeated, figuring if once made him grimace, twice would really bring the point home.

I was not the enemy. Their childhood friend, their teammate, their drinking buddy, the monster they’d unknowingly sacrificed their sister to was the enemy. “And the bat is going to come in handy when I get close enough to Ty to bash his brains out his ear.”

The fight left Dallas when Emma’s blood caked hand weaved into his. “It’s all right, Dal.”

“Like hell it’s all right,” I spat, about to untangle Julia’s arms from me if she didn’t soon. My fight with Dallas was done, my fight with Ty would be done once I ensured he’d never be able to lift a hand to another woman again.

“What happened, Em?” Dallas asked, covering her hand with both of his as he kneeled beside her bed.

“Ty happened,” she answered, her shoulder lifting like it was just another day. And that’s when a proverbial light switch clicked on.

“He’s done this before,” I stated, wishing I could have asked it with an inflection, but I already knew.

Emma only nodded her head.

I wanted to dry heave into the closest garbage can. I wanted to scream until I shattered the windows. I wanted to have a moment of weakness, but Emma needed me to be strong. That was the only thing that kept me from tearing myself apart.

“How many times?” Austin asked, unable to look at Emma, and I guessed it had a lot to do with him being the closest brother to Ty.

“So many times I lost count,” Emma said, glancing at me. Looking at me like she was waiting for me to run away. Looking at me like she expected me to see a different person bleeding before me on her bed.

The only person I saw was the girl I loved, and the girl I’d failed to protect. Something I was about to rectify shortly. In fact, I couldn’t stay in this room another second with the broken girl in front of me until I broke the body of the one who’d done the breaking.

“You guys get her to the hospital to get checked out,” I ordered, shoving them aside as I made for the door. “I’ve got some unfinished business with a dead man.”

Tex’s hand curled around the end of the bat. “Sorry, boy, but that beating is going to be ours. He beat our sister. He betrayed us. The blood on that bat belongs to us.”

Tex had remained scary calm the entire time, and I now understood why. His calculating calm had formulated a plan while Dallas and Austin were letting their anger and betrayal drive them.

“This is my fight,” I said, gripping the bat tightly.

“This one isn’t. Emma’s been our sister for twenty years, she’s been your girl for twenty seconds,” Tex argued in his scary calm voice.

“Patrick,” Emma called out, her hand slipping from Dallas’s in my direction, “stay with me. Don’t do this. Don’t repay blood with blood.”

I stared at her outstretched hand for a solid ten seconds, and then I looked at the cold metal my hands were wound around. What were they still doing there when her warm hand was waiting for me?

“Fine,” I said, relinquishing the bat to Tex. “Take a swing at his balls compliments of me.” My hand found Emma’s and, somehow, everything felt right in the midst of everything being wrong.

“I’ll take two,” Tex said, shouldering the bat. “One for you and one for Emma.” Opening the door, he paused, looking behind him. “Anytime you girls are ready. We’ve got some ass to kick.”

Dallas pressed a kiss into Emma’s forehead, leaving an imprint of lips in the drying blood.

“Don’t go,” Emma said, wincing as she tried to prop herself up on an elbow. “It’s not worth it.”

“Yes, you”—Tex looked her hard in the eye—“are worth it. I didn’t watch a sorry excuse for a dad beat our mom to stand by and do nothing when the same thing happened to my little sister.”

“Don’t,” Emma whispered.

“Sorry, Em,” Tex said, shuffling the other two out the door. “I’m not the forgive and forget kind of guy. I’m the eye for an eye kind of guy,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “And it’s time Ty Steel felt my wrath.”

The door slammed closed, locking an overwhelmed Julia, an anxious Emma, and me—and my bloody array of emotions that were so extreme they had yet to be named—away. “They’re going to ruin everything,” Emma said, looking at the door. “Their scholarships, their spots on the football team, their whole futures.”

“No, they’re not,” I replied, trying to help her as she rolled back down onto the mattress. “They’re going to ruin Ty. Their futures and everything else will be waiting for them tomorrow morning.” Her split open brows moved into a familiar arch. “Trust me,” I added.

Her head bobbed once. I took that as an affirmation she believed me.

“Okay, Em, we need to get you checked out to see if you need any stitches or see if anything’s broken.” In my opinion, heralding from a multitude of doctors, a couple gashes above her eyebrows needed at least a few stitches, and I’d still been too scared to look below the neck. “Can you move or should I call an ambulance?”

“No,” she said, trying to sit up again.

I held her down until I realized the significance of the gesture. Removing my hands braced over her shoulders, I realized how delicate I’d have to be about these kinds of situations. How much more sensitive a woman who’d seen the backside of a man’s hand would be to any shows of dominance, physical or emotional. Delicacy was something I wasn’t trained in, but I was certain it was something I could learn.

She stayed down though, managing to form a smile of acknowledgment with her swollen lips. The lips I’d kissed like there was no tomorrow were now doubled in size on the top and tripled on the bottom, where a gaping wound split it down the center.

I had to curl my fingers deep into her mattress to keep from punching a hole in the wall.

“I don’t want to go to a hospital. I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said, closing her eyes. “My night’s been eventful enough without adding a trip to the emergency room to it.”

I shook my head, not able to cave to her when it was her life we were talking about.

“Please,” she said, her voice a whimper. “I can’t go there. I can’t roll in that place looking the same way my mom did the last time I visited the ER.”

I silently cursed. What could I say to that? Even if she was bleeding from every pore, I’d have a tough time forcing her to go when she threw that at me.

“You need to get checked out, Em,” was all I could manage, but if she said no again, I was up a creek.

“Jules?” Emma croaked at her friend, who was still staring at the door like she was expecting it to burst open again. “Do you think your dad would be willing to make a home—dorm—visit?”

Looking relieved to be given something to do, Julia snatched her phone off the desk, biting her mangled nails as the phone rang.

“Dad?” she said. “I need you to get out of bed and get to my dorm ASAP. Emma’s hurt and she won’t go to a hospital. Will you come?” Julia said, sounding like a formality because she knew he would. That’s what a father was meant to be, someone his daughter would never have to wonder if he was going to come when she needed him.

Julia nodded. “See you soon. Love you, too,” she added, glancing our way as she tossed the phone back across the desk. “He’ll be here as soon as he can, but he’s way up in San Fran, so it will take him awhile to get here.”

“Thanks, Jules,” Emma said, sighing. “You’ve done your good deed for the year.”

“And on that note,” she replied, sliding a drawer open, “I need a cigarette. A pack of them.” She waved her hand at Emma when she opened her mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know I said I was going to quit, but today was not a good day to quit smoking.”

Flinging the door open, she jabbed a finger in my chest. “Patrick, I’m leaving her in your care. You okay?” she asked, glancing at Emma and having to glance away. “You got this?” she asked because she didn’t—she couldn’t do it.

Few people could stomach the reminders of the fragile nature of the human condition bloodied across Emma’s face, but I was one of them.

“I’ve got this,” I answered, nodding my head at the door. “Get some fresh air, Jules. You did a good job. I can take it from here.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed at me, looking ashamed and relieved at the same time.

“All right, beautiful,” I said, situating myself beside her. “I’ve got to get you cleaned up before the good doc gets here.” Given Julia’s oddities, I expected a Dr. Jekyll type to show up, but any doctor was better than no doctor at this point.

“Let me know if this hurts anywhere,” I said, sliding my arms beneath her and lifting her as gently as I could.

She lifted an arm to my neck, smiling up at me. “You know, I’ve had daydreams of this. Although you were shirtless, and I didn’t look like I was a post-op facelift patient.”

ping came at the door as I was preparing to twist it open with only one thing on my mind. Revenge.

A trio of Scarlett brothers smashed in the doorway, their faces ranging from concerned to disturbed.

“Someone told us they saw Emma stumbling into the building looking like she’d been hit by a car,” Tex said, studying me in my enraged stupor, white knuckles gripping a baseball bat with both hands.

Stepping aside, I made room for them to pass. “Take a look at what your best buddy is capable of!” I shouted, aiming some of my anger at them for letting a monster like Ty slip under their radar.

They stood like a trio of statues beside Emma’s bed, looking like they were trying to confirm the battered woman in front of them was their little sister.

“Did any of you know about this? Did any of you know he was capable of this?” My voice shook with my rage.

“Excuse me?” Dallas said, getting in my face. “What did you say there, Babe Ruth?” He shoved his chest against mine, his anger jacking up to my level. “How do we know it wasn’t you who beat our sister all to hell with the butt end of your Louisville Slugger?”

That wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a man who was a hair away from snapping. I shoved him back into his brothers to give my arm some leverage to land a powerful punch. At the same time a black velvet covered pair of arms wrestled around me, two pairs of brother arms wrapped around Dallas.

“Patrick, knock it off,” Julia yelled, trying to hold a ticking time bomb back. “Come on, Emma doesn’t need this shit right now.”

“Stop, you guys,” Emma’s hoarse voice carried above the chaos of the room. “Don’t fight.”

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to let her words and my better judgment restore my willpower to refrain from throwing Dallas out the window.

“Shame on you,” I said, wondering if my nostrils were billowing smoke. “Shame on you,” I repeated, figuring if once made him grimace, twice would really bring the point home.

I was not the enemy. Their childhood friend, their teammate, their drinking buddy, the monster they’d unknowingly sacrificed their sister to was the enemy. “And the bat is going to come in handy when I get close enough to Ty to bash his brains out his ear.”

The fight left Dallas when Emma’s blood caked hand weaved into his. “It’s all right, Dal.”

“Like hell it’s all right,” I spat, about to untangle Julia’s arms from me if she didn’t soon. My fight with Dallas was done, my fight with Ty would be done once I ensured he’d never be able to lift a hand to another woman again.

“What happened, Em?” Dallas asked, covering her hand with both of his as he kneeled beside her bed.

“Ty happened,” she answered, her shoulder lifting like it was just another day. And that’s when a proverbial light switch clicked on.

“He’s done this before,” I stated, wishing I could have asked it with an inflection, but I already knew.

Emma only nodded her head.

I wanted to dry heave into the closest garbage can. I wanted to scream until I shattered the windows. I wanted to have a moment of weakness, but Emma needed me to be strong. That was the only thing that kept me from tearing myself apart.

“How many times?” Austin asked, unable to look at Emma, and I guessed it had a lot to do with him being the closest brother to Ty.

“So many times I lost count,” Emma said, glancing at me. Looking at me like she was waiting for me to run away. Looking at me like she expected me to see a different person bleeding before me on her bed.

The only person I saw was the girl I loved, and the girl I’d failed to protect. Something I was about to rectify shortly. In fact, I couldn’t stay in this room another second with the broken girl in front of me until I broke the body of the one who’d done the breaking.

“You guys get her to the hospital to get checked out,” I ordered, shoving them aside as I made for the door. “I’ve got some unfinished business with a dead man.”

Tex’s hand curled around the end of the bat. “Sorry, boy, but that beating is going to be ours. He beat our sister. He betrayed us. The blood on that bat belongs to us.”

Tex had remained scary calm the entire time, and I now understood why. His calculating calm had formulated a plan while Dallas and Austin were letting their anger and betrayal drive them.

“This is my fight,” I said, gripping the bat tightly.

“This one isn’t. Emma’s been our sister for twenty years, she’s been your girl for twenty seconds,” Tex argued in his scary calm voice.

“Patrick,” Emma called out, her hand slipping from Dallas’s in my direction, “stay with me. Don’t do this. Don’t repay blood with blood.”

I stared at her outstretched hand for a solid ten seconds, and then I looked at the cold metal my hands were wound around. What were they still doing there when her warm hand was waiting for me?

“Fine,” I said, relinquishing the bat to Tex. “Take a swing at his balls compliments of me.” My hand found Emma’s and, somehow, everything felt right in the midst of everything being wrong.

“I’ll take two,” Tex said, shouldering the bat. “One for you and one for Emma.” Opening the door, he paused, looking behind him. “Anytime you girls are ready. We’ve got some ass to kick.”

Dallas pressed a kiss into Emma’s forehead, leaving an imprint of lips in the drying blood.

“Don’t go,” Emma said, wincing as she tried to prop herself up on an elbow. “It’s not worth it.”

“Yes, you”—Tex looked her hard in the eye—“are worth it. I didn’t watch a sorry excuse for a dad beat our mom to stand by and do nothing when the same thing happened to my little sister.”

“Don’t,” Emma whispered.

“Sorry, Em,” Tex said, shuffling the other two out the door. “I’m not the forgive and forget kind of guy. I’m the eye for an eye kind of guy,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “And it’s time Ty Steel felt my wrath.”

The door slammed closed, locking an overwhelmed Julia, an anxious Emma, and me—and my bloody array of emotions that were so extreme they had yet to be named—away. “They’re going to ruin everything,” Emma said, looking at the door. “Their scholarships, their spots on the football team, their whole futures.”

“No, they’re not,” I replied, trying to help her as she rolled back down onto the mattress. “They’re going to ruin Ty. Their futures and everything else will be waiting for them tomorrow morning.” Her split open brows moved into a familiar arch. “Trust me,” I added.

Her head bobbed once. I took that as an affirmation she believed me.

“Okay, Em, we need to get you checked out to see if you need any stitches or see if anything’s broken.” In my opinion, heralding from a multitude of doctors, a couple gashes above her eyebrows needed at least a few stitches, and I’d still been too scared to look below the neck. “Can you move or should I call an ambulance?”

“No,” she said, trying to sit up again.

I held her down until I realized the significance of the gesture. Removing my hands braced over her shoulders, I realized how delicate I’d have to be about these kinds of situations. How much more sensitive a woman who’d seen the backside of a man’s hand would be to any shows of dominance, physical or emotional. Delicacy was something I wasn’t trained in, but I was certain it was something I could learn.

She stayed down though, managing to form a smile of acknowledgment with her swollen lips. The lips I’d kissed like there was no tomorrow were now doubled in size on the top and tripled on the bottom, where a gaping wound split it down the center.

I had to curl my fingers deep into her mattress to keep from punching a hole in the wall.

“I don’t want to go to a hospital. I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said, closing her eyes. “My night’s been eventful enough without adding a trip to the emergency room to it.”

I shook my head, not able to cave to her when it was her life we were talking about.

“Please,” she said, her voice a whimper. “I can’t go there. I can’t roll in that place looking the same way my mom did the last time I visited the ER.”

I silently cursed. What could I say to that? Even if she was bleeding from every pore, I’d have a tough time forcing her to go when she threw that at me.

“You need to get checked out, Em,” was all I could manage, but if she said no again, I was up a creek.

“Jules?” Emma croaked at her friend, who was still staring at the door like she was expecting it to burst open again. “Do you think your dad would be willing to make a home—dorm—visit?”

Looking relieved to be given something to do, Julia snatched her phone off the desk, biting her mangled nails as the phone rang.

“Dad?” she said. “I need you to get out of bed and get to my dorm ASAP. Emma’s hurt and she won’t go to a hospital. Will you come?” Julia said, sounding like a formality because she knew he would. That’s what a father was meant to be, someone his daughter would never have to wonder if he was going to come when she needed him.

Julia nodded. “See you soon. Love you, too,” she added, glancing our way as she tossed the phone back across the desk. “He’ll be here as soon as he can, but he’s way up in San Fran, so it will take him awhile to get here.”

“Thanks, Jules,” Emma said, sighing. “You’ve done your good deed for the year.”

“And on that note,” she replied, sliding a drawer open, “I need a cigarette. A pack of them.” She waved her hand at Emma when she opened her mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know I said I was going to quit, but today was not a good day to quit smoking.”

Flinging the door open, she jabbed a finger in my chest. “Patrick, I’m leaving her in your care. You okay?” she asked, glancing at Emma and having to glance away. “You got this?” she asked because she didn’t—she couldn’t do it.

Few people could stomach the reminders of the fragile nature of the human condition bloodied across Emma’s face, but I was one of them.

“I’ve got this,” I answered, nodding my head at the door. “Get some fresh air, Jules. You did a good job. I can take it from here.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed at me, looking ashamed and relieved at the same time.

“All right, beautiful,” I said, situating myself beside her. “I’ve got to get you cleaned up before the good doc gets here.” Given Julia’s oddities, I expected a Dr. Jekyll type to show up, but any doctor was better than no doctor at this point.

“Let me know if this hurts anywhere,” I said, sliding my arms beneath her and lifting her as gently as I could.

She lifted an arm to my neck, smiling up at me. “You know, I’ve had daydreams of this. Although you were shirtless, and I didn’t look like I was a post-op facelift patient.”