Page 17 of Operation Rescue
“Erin,” Blaine began, but Rafe cut him off. Probably didn’t want to hear them fighting, and he couldn’t blame the guy.
“What kind of game?”
“Something about kids—well, teenagers—riding dragons and battling…some other creatures. You get to pick a character to be.”
“Did he play it on a computer, or a game console?”
“Both, depending on where he was.” She grimaced again. “I have a feeling he was playing it a lot lately, because I got a call from his school that he’d cut a few classes.”
“Did he take the computer with him now?” Blaine asked.
“Yes, his laptop is gone. He actually got a part-time job last year to pay for it, because he wanted one capable of running the game. I would only give him enough money for one that would handle his schoolwork, because he already had the console.” She sighed audibly. “And I only got him the console because he kept sneaking into my office to use my computer to play whenever I wasn’t home. He inadvertently destroyed some important work.”
“This game,” Rafe said slowly, “is it one he plays with others?”
She nodded. “A lot of them, apparently. I think he spends as much time messaging with them as he does playing.”
“Do you know what name he signed in with?”
“I…no. Not his real name, though. I did ask that, and of course he looked at me like I was an idiot.”
Blaine watched as Rafe reached for the phone in his jacket pocket, a slightly different sort of model with some extra buttons he’d never seen on a phone before. Erin was looking at him warily.
“I didn’t think it was bad, or dangerous,” she said, sounding a little anxious. “And at least he was home when he was playing.”
“The game may be fine,” Rafe said as he tapped the screen. “The other people who play—and message—may not be.”
Blaine heard her breath catch. He had to admit he hadn’t thought of that, either, but then the world of online video gaming, especially what he thought were called RPGs, role-playing games, were out of his experience. He’d been busy enough fighting the real villains of the world.
“Ty?” Rafe said into the phone. “Yeah. I need some help, and it’s right up your alley.”
He walked toward the other end of the room, talking rapidly into the odd phone. Which left him and Erin essentially alone together. Something that hadn’t happened in two years, since the divorce had been final.
She didn’t—or wouldn’t—look at him. Or speak. His jaw tightened, but then he consciously released it. He’d given up trying to figure out how she could throw away what they’d had over something that was already over and done. Yeah, he’d been pretty messed up, and it had taken him a year to get fully back on his feet and operational, but he’d done it.
Only because she was there fighting beside you.
He’d never denied that. She’d been there every step of the way, fighting alongside him, and many times fighting for him, against medical people who made assumptions she thought they shouldn’t, or a couple of times when, as she’d put it then, the right hand wasn’t talking to the left hand and some important wires got crossed.
He wouldn’t be here now, pretty much back to his old self except for a few scars and a shoulder that tightened up on him now and then, if not for her. When he thought back to those early days, he wondered if he’d have pulled through at all if not for her. So many times he’d just wanted to quit, to take the easier way out. But how could he give up when she was there, fighting so hard for him, for them?
And then she walked away, after all that, just when things were right again.
“Thank you. For coming.”
The quiet words, uttered barely above a whisper, snapped him out of the old, useless, ever-repeating cycle of memories. But the effect lingered, and there was an edge in his voice when he answered her.
“Ethan’s my son. Of course I came.”
“I was afraid you might not. Because…of me.”
He stiffened. “You really think I’d put that above Ethan? That I’d abandon him because—”
He cut himself off. Stopped the words that would have been downright pitiful.Because you abandoned me? Threw us away?
He was beyond grateful when Rafe walked back toward him. He was focused on Erin. “How long ago did he last play that game on your computer?”
She looked as relieved as he felt when she shifted her gaze to Rafe. “He got the laptop right before school started, so probably August?” she answered, her answer a question in itself.
