Page 106 of Fighting Fate

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The whitewashed brick walls are closing in while the speckled ceiling stares back at me. I’ve been locked up in this place for four fucking days, going stir-crazy. All I’ve been told is that Willow and the baby are fine, but until I see her and hold her again, I won’t be able to breathe or think straight.

All I can see are her bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked face. Her dress was in tatters. The cell door creaks open, and the officer stands outside, waiting for me to get up and walk ahead of him.

“Your ninety-six hours are up,” he tells me with a smile.

“Thank fuck,” I groan to myself more than anything.

“Yeah, these cells aren’t the best this country has to offer, but—” He pauses to hand me a plastic baggy with my watch, phone, and wallet enclosed. “—I hope it hasn’t been too bad.”

He’s obviously joking with the roll of his eyes that follows the statement. He’s guiding me towards the exit when the detective in charge of the investigation comes through the door.

The expression on his face says it all when he stops in front of me and gives me a head-to-toe sneer. “I don’t know what you or your team’s done. I suspect you’ve paid him off…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Peter Saunders has dropped the charges against you, Mr. Knight. You’re a free man.”

“What?” My heart lurches, unsure if this is another one of his tricks to get something from me. It’s all he’s done the past three days. Twist everything in front of him to paint a picture that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Goes to show that money does come in handy.”

“After what he did to my girlfriend, I would rather rot in jail because of your incompetency than give that bastard a cent,” I scoff. The guy is an asshole, and the longer I look at his face, the more I hate him. “If you had done your job in the first place, we wouldn’t be here. In fact, you’re lucky that I stepped in to stop a fucking psychopath from killing a pregnant woman and an unborn child.”

Pushing past me, he walks away. It’s good he doesn’t excuse his fault in this, because I’d gladly go back into my cell for showing it to him.

When we reach the exit, Marcus and Taylor are waiting for me. I’ve never been so happy to see them in all my life.

“Man,” Marcus laughs, patting me on the shoulder while assessing my dishevelled appearance.

“You look like shit, son,” Taylor chuckles, pulling a funny face when he takes in the clothes the police gave me when they took my bloody clothes into evidence.

“Is she home yet?” I ask, ignoring their teasing.

Marcus exchanges a look with Taylor before he tells me, “Willow’s out of the hospital.”

“Is something wrong? Is she okay? The baby?” The words have hardly left my lips as the Range door opens and the most beautiful smile greets me.

There isn’t anything in this world that can hold me back as my feet eat away at the tarmac separating us. My damn heart is beating out of my chest, and I’m so relieved that all I can do to ground myself is peruse her entire form.

“Hi, Fight Club,” Willow whispers, her hand grasping mine. The sound of her voice makes me wince. It’s hoarse and fragile, making it impossible for me not to glance down at her bruised throat. My blood boils at the sight.

However, when her smile widens and she tugs my hand toward her lightly, I can’t resist the urge to smile back at her. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Willow scoots up as I get in beside her. Her body pressed to mine is the best thing I’ve ever felt. When I wrap my arm around her, she nuzzles into me. Her bandaged hand cups my face as she tucks hers into my neck and inhales deeply. The warmth of her touch is glorious, and I can’t help but melt into it.

It’s only now that I’m holding her again and my hand is lightly stroking over her belly that the heaviness lifts from my shoulders and I can finally breathe again.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”

Reddened eyes flash to mine as she sits up, and a surly pout forms on her lips. “If you ever apologise to me about this again, I might actually slap you,” she growls at me. “None of this is your fault, Rory. You’re not the one that brought Peter into our life. He’s my baggage.”

“He dropped the charges.”

Biting down on her lip, she nods at me. “I know.”

“You do…” Her expression tells me I’m not going to like this.

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