Free Steel Me Away by Vivian Lux Page A

waited for her to fight him again.  Instead she stalked stiffly to the bunkhouse. 
    She emerged seconds later with her pack on her back. 

Chapter 15
     
    Emmy
     
    Isn't there anywhere else you can go?
    The intelligent part of me knew I was being crazy. The rational side shouted at me to calm down.
    But the panicky part, the traumatized, protective part of me was shouting louder.  And the stubborn, prideful part drowned out everything else.
    I wanted to run, to hide.   I wanted to find a place that was mine and mine alone, a place where I could belong.  A place that felt normal to me.  A place where I could regroup and figure out what the hell I was going to do next.
    The front office was dark, but I knew where the phone was.
    I picked it up and considered my options. 
    Sammie was gone back to her home in Upstate New York.  It would be five hours before she could come get me.  I knew she would, but I couldn't wait that long.
    The only other people I knew who would come for me were the last people on earth I wanted to see.  But I was broke and alone, and had no one else to turn to. 
    I dialed the number I knew by heart.
    "Hello?"
    I didn't recognize the voice that picked up the phone.  It wasn't my father's rum-soaked drawl, nor was it my mother's pinched, nasal whine.  This was a smooth baritone rumble that would have been comforting if it wasn't so startling to hear.  "Who is this?"
    "Em?  It's Andy."
    My mouth fell open.  My little brother didn't sound so little any more.  I swallowed at the realization of how much had changed since I'd left. 
    Andy had been a scrawny late-bloomer, always the smallest kid in his class, always the high, piping voice in the background.  He had made up for his size by being the hardest scrapper in his school, ready for a fight even and especially if his opponent was bigger than him.  He was constantly on suspension for bloodying someone's nose.  And then my dad would bruise his backside, using his size as an advantage over his own son. 
    "If I'm going to get beaten, it may as well be worth something," Andy had informed me the first time we picked him up from the police station.  The charges of theft and vandalism had been dropped as it was his first attempt and the shopkeeper knew us from church.  But it was the first of many, and Andy soon grew into an accomplished petty thief, keeping just below the radar of the law.  The more he stole, the better he got, and the better he got, the more my father hated him.  At fifteen years old and still as tiny as ever, Andy Hawthorne had had enough.  He started punching my father back.
    The last fight before I left for college had ended with me throwing myself in between them.  If I hadn't, they probably wouldn't have stopped until one or the both of them were dead.
    But now the voice on the phone was that of a grown man.  My guilt over leaving, always poking at the back of my mind, flared to life.  I hoped against hope that my father no longer saw him as an easy target. 
    "Holy shit, Andy," I breathed into the receiver.  "I didn't recognize your voice."
    "I barely recognized yours," he replied pointedly and I swallowed.
    "Andy, I'm sorry."  A lie sprang to my lips but I pushed it back down again.  That wasn't me anymore.  I was living my truth no matter how badly it hurt.  "I needed to get away.  You would have too if you could."
    "So why're you calling?"
    I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, choking on the words.  "Because I need to come back."
    Andy still was dubious.  "Why?" He didn't sound so much like a man anymore.  More like the teenager he was.  Petulant.  Confrontational. I inhaled deeply and steadied myself against the counter.  I could hear the Sons moving in the garage behind me.  I had to leave before J. found out and tried to stop me.
    Or worse, if he saw me go and didn't stop me.
    "I have nowhere else to go," I choked into the receiver.
    There were a few moments of silence.  I could hear