The Fall Risk: A Short Story

The stairs were back.

It was Monday, 5:00 p.m., just as promised. Seth and I stood at the top of the landing, watching the workers load up their trucks and drive off. We’d put away our outdoor living room. No more pool.

No more anything.

Seth was back in the boot and on crutches. He’d officially done his ankle in.

I looked out over the carport. I felt exposed.

“Okay,” he said. “So my door camera’s in and John’s having cameras installed in the carport the day after tomorrow. What else do you need? How else can I make you feel safe?”

“This is more than enough, Seth. Thank you.”

“I’ll keep my motion alerts on twenty-four hours,” he said. “When I go back to work in a few weeks, I’ll call John if I see anything and I can’t get there before he can.”

I gave him a soft smile. “How are you single? I feel like the ladies would have set you up with their granddaughters by now.”

“Oh, they tried, believe me. Bonsai night is like an involuntary round of speed dating.”

I snorted.

“I just think I have a very specific type,” he said.

“Which is what?”

“Heavily armed, slightly weird accountants?”

I laughed.

“You’re sure I can’t take you on a date,” he said.

I took in a deep breath. “I’m sure.”

We stood there in silence, looking out over the carport. “I think Izzy and Gabe are a thing—”

“I think they’re a thing too,” he said.

“She doesn’t really trust men,” I said.

“Well, he’s a good one. She doesn’t have anything to worry about.”

“She’s a good one too,” I said. “A little hard to get close to at first, but worth waiting for.”

I felt him look at me. “You are too, you know.”

“What?”

“Worth waiting for.”

I peered over at him. “I’m sure there’s another heavily armed, slightly weird accountant out there for you.”

“But will she like my tree puns?”

“I’d be stumped if she didn’t.”

He chuckled. Then the mirth faded out, and he looked at me a little sad. “You’re still not allowed to watch that show without me,” he said quietly.

I had to swallow down a lump in my throat. “I promise I won’t.”

He gave me a halfhearted smile.

My heart reached for him. I gently pulled her back in.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. I wasn’t sure I agreed. Something told me I’d never get over the loss of this.

It was early, and so new, but I could see all the places it could have gone anyway. Where it should have gone. Instead, Seth would just be a friend. An open field of flowers that I could see from my prison. Cool, fresh air while I suffocated in my little box. And one day, I’d look at the motion on my doorbell, and he’d be coming home with someone else, and I had to accept this. And all the other things that had been taken from me.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, breaking into my thoughts. “I got this.”

He went to his apartment and grabbed something by the door. He held it up proudly.

“A baseball bat with a sock.” I smiled. “Let me see it.” He handed it to me. “Nice,” I said. “Wood. Heavy. I love it.”

He checked his watch. “I have to feed Swim Shady. Want to come inside for a sec?”

“No. I want to stand out here another minute.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back. Then we can go water your plants.”

“You haven’t given up on them?”

He paused halfway in the door. “I haven’t given up on anything, Charlotte.”

He limped in on his crutches and shut the door behind him.

I waited a moment, standing there at the top of the stairs, leaning on the baseball bat. I looked out over the view I’d fallen in love with over the last three days.

I was going to miss sitting out here. It wouldn’t feel safe now. But I really did love it while it lasted. The clouds against the blue sky, the palm trees swaying.

I wanted more.

I wanted to go with Seth to the pool—a real one. Or walk with him in one of his parks and let him show me his trees. I wanted to say yes when a boy I liked asked me on a date. I wanted—

Something moved at the edge of the property line. The hairs on my arms stood up.

I think I sensed him before I actually saw him. An unnatural energy that made my skin prickle.

George.

He came out from some bushes lining the parking lot. Dirty, ragged, looking like he’d been living on the streets for the last month. I wouldn’t have even recognized him if his eyes didn’t haunt my nightmares.

I watched him stride across the lawn, making a beeline directly for me.

He had a box cutter in his hand.

It was weird I wasn’t more scared. In fact, I wasn’t scared at all for some reason. My heart was pounding, and adrenaline flooded my system. But I wasn’t afraid. Something else was happening. Something unexpected.

Rage.

Pure, unadulterated feminine rage.

How dare he.

How dare he come here, to this place that I’d started to love, to my home, to hurt me or hurt Seth, to steal my peace, to rob me of more than he already had.

The last two years flashed before my eyes. I saw every time he made me uncomfortable. All the times he came into my work, and then all the times he made me scared. Standing by my car, looking into my windows, staring back at me from a mug shot.

All the times I couldn’t see him at all, when nothing but the thought of him shrank me and pushed me into a corner and backed me in. The jobs I couldn’t have, the experiences I couldn’t enjoy.

The man I couldn’t date.

Angry didn’t cover it.

I was a ball of fury. A supernova.

I was the one who was dangerous.

Izzy was right. I wasn’t the same woman I’d been when he first laid eyes on me. I knew how to protect myself now. I knew how to fight, I was fit and strong. I was underestimated and beyond done.

All the self-defense training I’d learned over the last two years activated, except for one core thing Izzy drilled into me.

I ran in his direction instead of away.

I jogged down the steps and stalked toward him, bat in hand.

He looked almost elated. What a thrill to catch me out in the open, full view. How lucky. But when he got close enough that I could hear him rambling about prophecies and whatever the hell else he liked to go on about, I stopped and held my ground.

“Do not come any closer to me, or I will defend myself,” I said, firm and clear.

He closed the gap.

I raised the bat and swung. He let go of the box cutter to grab it. The sock slid off in his hand, he staggered backward. I swung again, aiming low, and cracked him right across the kneecaps. I heard the bones break, and he dropped like a screaming sack of rice. Then I did it again for good measure.

And that was it.

It was almost anticlimactic. Five seconds, tops.

I stepped back, panting, my attacker neutralized. Kicked the box cutter out of reach. Dropped the bat. My ears started to ring, I began to shake, then Seth was there. He was calling 911. I was being taken back up to my apartment. Sirens. Police arrived. An ambulance came. Izzy’s car screeched into the parking lot. It was over.

And I was free.