Page 67 of Fletch

“Go where?” he asks, frowning. “You’re not leaving with Ruby. She’s staying.”

I offer a weak smile. “Ruby can’t come where I want to go.”

It dawns on him what I’m talking about. “Are you shitting me?” he barks. “You’re better than that.”

I want to hit him for that one stupid statement. If only he knew the thought I’d put into ending my life. It’s not an easy decision, but I can’t see a way out. “Leave.”

“How can I fucking leave now you’ve said that?” he spits angrily.

“I’m not your problem.”

“But Ruby is. Fuck, Gemma, these things are temporary, they’ll go away. You have a life to live, and you want to throw it away because of a job you fucking hated anyway and a man who’s not even worth a single tear?”

I begin to shiver as the cold bleeds into the bedding. I close my eyes. I’m so tired despite constantly flitting in and out of sleep. The smallest interaction makes me sleepy. I smile to myself. When I wake, he’ll be gone. I need him to be gone.

Fletch

I call Axel. “What?”

“I have a problem,” I tell him. “Gemma is unwell.”

“So?”

“Because of what we did to her. She wants to . . .” I can’t even bring myself to say the words. I sigh heavily. “She wants to kill herself. She hasn’t left her bed in a week, and fuck knows if she’s even eaten or drank a thing.”

“Why are you calling me, Fletch? Do you want my permission?”

I frown in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You love her, and you need me to tell you to get her well again. You want my permission to be at her side right now?”

“No,” I mutter. “I mean, I’m staying here until I’m certain she won’t do anything crazy. But she’s Ruby’s mum. Ruby can’t lose three parents in such a short space of time.”

“I don’t think Ruby is your main concern here. Why don’t you just admit it? You love her.”

“It doesn’t matter, Pres. I made my choice.”

“She isn’t a copper anymore,” he states.

“So?”

“And she didn’t actually find anything on us.”

“What are you saying?”

“Just that if you need time to make shit right with her, I’ll get the garage covered.”

“It’s not like that,” I tell him. “She just needs to get better.”

He chuckles. “I’ll have someone walk Ruby home.”

“Thanks.”

I go back into Gemma and wonder how the hell she can sleep when she’s piss-wet through. I head into her bathroom and put the plug in the bath. I search the cupboard and find bath foam and some scissors. Turning the taps on full, I pour the foam into the tub and give it a swirl. I wait until it’s almost full and check the temperature.

Going back into Gemma, I shrug from my kutte and place it on the chair. Then I go over to the bed and carefully pull the sheets back. She doesn’t even stir as I carefully take the hem of her shirt and begin to cut a straight line from the bottom to the top. She’s not wearing underwear, so I pull the shirt closed and slide my hands beneath her, lifting her into my arms. She stirs, groaning, and then rests her head against my chest, settling into my arms.

I carry her to the bathroom and carefully lower her into the bubbly water. Her eyes shoot open, and she gasps in surprise, looking alarmed as she takes in her surroundings. I pull the shirt from her arms and dump it in the sink. “Morning,” I say cheerfully. “Bathtime.” She grips the sides and starts to push up, but I tug her hands away so she slips back into the water, some of it spilling out over the sides. “You’re having a bath.”

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