Page 164 of Knights Game

She stares at me, slowly taking the lighter from my hand and drops it.

I step through the door and close the door to his screams.

Looking down at her I smile, and although she’s pale and in pain, and fighting so fucking hard to keep her eyes open, her lips twitch.

And I say, “I want more.”

Roman Rook – Seven Days Later

The sound of theheart rate monitor beeping feels like a knife is being repeatedly rammed into my chest. Each beep a reminder that she could have died.

Did die. She did die, I remind myself.

Twice.

And I’m to blame.

I’m to blame for a lot of things.

Tubes come out of her mouth, wires run into her hands, under her gown. The lights of the Intensive care unit encase her in light, but I feel like I’m sitting in darkness.

Luca let me walk out when he should have killed me.

None of those things help my resolve as I stare at the broken body of Katy.

Stable, but critical.

That’s her status. Her road to recovery is long, but she breathes. Aided. Her heart beats, with help. But it beats.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I let it, as I listen to the beats of that fucking machine.

The doors to the ICU swing open and four uniformed police officers walk in, followed by a nurse. “You cannot just barge in!” she whisper-shouts. “This is a hospital, not a police station. These patients are in a critical condition, and this is a controlled ward!”

I look back to Katy asleep; I can’t say whether it’s a sound one as she’s in a medically induced coma. But hopefully she’ll be unaware of the chaos of the intensive care ward.

“Roman Rook.”

“Hmm.” I lean over her tiny body, placing my lips on her forehead.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Luca Knight and attempted murder of Katy Murdoch. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say, may be given in evidence.”

The icing on the fucking cake.

It took three weeks for Luca to make his move.

Standing slowly, I raise my hands, hoping they see that I’m coming easily. My fight’s gone; I’ve passed Katy every ounce of strength I have to keep that heart beating.

I’ve prayed to every fucking god that if Saskia is still breathing, that she remains so until I find her. Because I will find her.

One of the pair snaps handcuffs around my wrists, and I’m escorted out of the ICU to the upset of the nurses who I think would have taken all of us on if we so much as dared cause a scene.

We walk past the window, and I take one last look at Katy, and silently promise to be back by her side as soon as I can.

Layla – Three Weeks Later

The soft wind billows the sheer curtain over the large bi-fold windows. The gentle sounds of waves on the white sandy beach outside; I don’t want to wake up yet.

Because then I’ll feel the pain.

---