Page 26 of Catch My Fall

“It was him that found you, you know. The entire plan to rescue you was his. He went in alone, he risked getting killed just to get you out of there.”

A memory from that night pops into my head, the last one I have before everything faded to black.

I’ve got you, princess…

“I remember,” I breathe out. “I remember his voice.” I remember the solidness of his chest, the warmth of his arms wrapped around me.

All the while I was in that prison, lying naked and cold on that soiled mattress, somehow I always knew he’d find me. I felt it. I never doubted him for one single moment, and the knowledge of him sat outside my hospital room, on guard, makes me feel safe.

“In the two and a half weeks you were gone, he was beside himself. He wasn’t eating or sleeping… All he could think about was you. I know you probably don’t see it, or maybe you do, but that beautiful man out there is crazy about you, he’d do anything for you.”

Warmth pools in my belly and I smile to myself.

“Listen, I have to go. Ivy has a school presentation tonight, it’s like an art exhibition for all the kids in her year.”

“Have fun. Give her a kiss from me, will you?” I ask.

“Of course.” She reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Love you, babe.”

She waves goodbye as she disappears out the door.

I spend the next half an hour trawling through the fifteen crappy TV channels on the small television fixed to the far corner of my room, a TV so ancient it’s probably older than I am.

I have a choice between some old 70s crime drama, a Clint Eastwood movie, a top ten countdown on America’s saddest heartbreak songs and a reality show where the main cast has more plastic in their bodies than all the oceans combined.

Absolutely not.

Instead, I drag the bag that Reese brought me closer and sift through it.

I find the book Reese packed for me. It’s one of the more light-hearted and censored of the books I’m used to reading, but according to TikTok, it’s not lacking in the romance department.

I used to get lost in books like these, my innocent mind swirling with ideas, the space between my legs throbbing as I imagined that I was the girl in the book I was reading, that it was me the hot main character was doing all those dirty things to. But now, I feel nothing. No racing heart, no ache in my core. It’s like that part of me is gone.

Will I ever get it back?

I slam the book closed and toss it onto the table bedside my bed.

I need to use the bathroom. Swinging my legs off the edge of the bed, I hoist myself up while my hand clutches my belly. The pain in my abdomen has eased somewhat, but it’s still a struggle to stand up straight or walk by myself. Up until now, one of the nurses has had to help me into the bathroom, but I’m determined to give it a go on my own. I hate relying on people for help, I always feel like I’m a burden, something I’ve always said I never wanted to become.

It takes me what feels like an hour to make it to the bathroom and use the toilet, but I manage it, barely. I pull open the door and manoeuvre myself out. I shuffle back across the room towards my bed, but my sock slips on the floor and I lose my balance.

“Shit!” I cry as I go down hard on my knee, my fractured arm reaching out to soften the fall. Pain ricochets through my arm as I hit the floor, hard.

The door bursts open and Alec is there, rushing towards me. “Sierra!”

“I’m fine, I just slipped.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Let me help.” Crouching beside me, he holds out his hand rather than reach for me.

My skin tingles from his touch as I take his hand, and with his other, he wraps an arm around my waist, careful of my stitches and my ribs as he sets me back on my feet.

He doesn’t let go straight away. He keeps his arm secured around my waist, his hand still clutching mine as I let my eyes flick up to meet his.

His stormy eyes are heavy-lidded, like he hasn’t slept in weeks, his dark brown hair a dishevelled but beautiful mess on top of his head and there’s several days worth of unshaven scruff on his jaw and cheeks. The once crisp white Henley is covered in dirt and blood. My blood. His faded grey jeans are about the same.

Why hasn’t he changed?

He goes to reach for my face, but he stops himself, dropping his arm from around me and taking a step back. My heart sinks a little.

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