CHAPTER 213

There’s always another crazy motherfucker out there. That thought ran repeatedly through my mind. Brack said not to allow fear to rule me, but it was hard. My stalker made me afraid of everything. I was not the same person I was a year ago. Back then, my middle name was, “Take on the world.” Today it was, “Just survive until tomorrow.”

Later that morning, Brack played two racquetball games against me and I felt a great deal of satisfaction when his frustration finally showed. “Do you ever lose?” he asked while fighting for breath.

I used Brack’s favorite comeback—keep it frustratingly simple. “No.”

“You know I didn’t think you had a chance of beating me that first day.”

I could only shake my head. “Even knowing what I could do on a tennis court?”

Brack, who had bent double because he still wouldn’t listen to me about opening his lungs, stood up. “The YouTube videos didn’t do you justice.”

I laughed. “So which match did you watch?”

“Several, but my favorite was you and that Crosby woma