Page 31 of Protecting Paul

I see a flash of metal. He’s holding a knife to Paul’s throat, pressing it against his flesh hard enough that I know it hurts. My heart is about to burst out of my chest as panic tries to take over. I look around quickly, trying to think of something.

Before Jerry can process what I’m doing, I grab the cheap decorative vase on the table next to me and hurl it at the wall to Jerry’s left. He ducks to avoid the shards. The knife slips away from Paul’s neck, and I take my chance. I run over to them, kicking him in the shin before he can stand back up again. He grunts and slashes the knife at me. It slides through my pants and hit me right in the calf.

It feels more like a hard punch than a knife and my adrenaline allows me to push on. I shove my knee into his chest, pinning him against the ground.

Jerry grips the knife until his knuckles turn white and slashes at me again. I grab for the hilt to disarm him, but he turns it quickly and I end up catching it blade-first. The blade digs into meaty part of my palm until I feel the warmth of my blood dripping down my arm. I grab the top of the hilt, yank it out of his hand and toss it aside.

He tries to push me off him, but I use my bleeding fist to punch him in the nose. He cries out and stops moving, falling limp against the ground. He looks up at me with hatred in his half-lidded eyes. I ease off of him just enough to flip him over and slap the cuffs on his wrists.

“Stay where you are. If you try anything, Iwillshoot this time,” I command, shoving him away. “Jesus, Paul.”

I gulp as I frantically untangle the messy knots Jerry tied him up with. As they fall around him, he rubs his wrists and groans. He reaches up and yanks the gag off of his mouth. He looks horrible. He’s bloodied and bruised everywhere I can see, with exhaustion mixed with relief on his face.

“Can you walk?” I ask softly, helping him up. He stumbles a bit, and I wrap my arms around him. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” He mumbles. His voice is hoarse. He looks up at me and tries to offer a tiny smile. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me fiercely. I pull him against me.

“Don’t thank me,” I whisper, burying my face in his hair. I need a moment to take in the fact that this is real. Paul is alive, and he’s in my arms again. “I would’ve done whatever it took to protect you. It was my choice.”

I look up when I hear sirens growing closer. I don’t let go of Paul until I see flashing lights fill the parking lot. I heave a sigh of relief. I wrap one arm around Paul to support his weight as we leave the room.

My fellow officers run my way, and I fill them in on the situation. I nod toward Jerry’s form on the floor.

Emergency Medical Services pull into the lot just behind the patrol cars, with the state troopers right behind. I help Paul over to the ambulance against his protests.

“I need them to look at this hand and my leg, but you need to get checked out too. No arguments.” I’m not willing to take any more chances with his wellbeing right now. The mention of me being injured stops the complaints. I don’t think he even knew that Jerry had gotten me with the knife.

The EMS techs look over Paul quickly and while they recommend that he follow up with a doctor, they don’t think he needs to be transported to the hospital.

My injuries require a little more attention, but I still don’t need to be transported. The paramedic grumbles a little, but he agrees to put a couple stitches in my palm rather than make the hour-long trip to a hospital. The slice on my calf just needs a cleaning and a couple steri-strips to pull it back together. As long as I’m careful I can avoid stitches.

Paul sits on a bumper and watches me while Andrews takes his statement. He doesn’t say much, but I can see the relief on his face when the paramedic decides that I won’t need transport either.

I can’t really hear what they’re saying, but it looks like Andrews tries to get him to sit somewhere more comfortable a couple times and he refuses. About the time the EMT starts on the calf wound, the State Trooper comes over to talk to me. I relay my version of events and he confirms that everyone has pretty much said the same thing, and he will be taking Jerry into custody, and doesn’t expect him to be released any time soon. He confirms my phone number, and then Paul’s so the DA can contact us regarding charging.

The sheriff department cruisers have been pulling out and heading home for the last few minutes. The state trooper and his partner get ready to take off. Jerry glares at me as they shove him into the back of their rig. Once I see them pulling away, and the EMT has given me the all-clear, I make my way over to Paul.

Sanchez and Andrews are both there now, and it seems like they’re just hanging out waiting for me. I walk in between them, gather Paul in my arms, and just breathe in the smell of him. I’m so glad that he’s okay, and now that the adrenaline is gone, I just want to melt into him and sleep forever.

“Holy shit, Paul,” I breathe out. His body heaves and I can feel his tears against my neck. “Everything’s okay now, alright? We’ve got more than enough to put Jerry away for a long time. I’m here.”

“You’re always here,” he mumbles, his breath wafting against my skin. “I’m so fucking glad that you’re always here.”

“I told you I would be,” I mumble back. I rub his back gently and wince in pain. “Shit, I forgot about my hand.”

“Are you going to be okay to drive back to the station?” Sanchez asks. It’s not until he talks that I even realize he and Andrews are still there. Paul stiffens in my arms like he’s going to pull away, but I’m not about to let him.

“I can make it,” I assure the other two officers, “but I’m dropping the car off at the station and we’re going straight home to bed.”

“I bet you are!” says Andrews with an eyebrow wiggle. Sanchez elbows him in the side. “Knock it off man,” he says, grinning, “they’re going to need some sleep before they get to the fun stuff.” They both chuckle as they walk back to the cruiser they shared and pull out. I’m chuckling as they walk away. I look down at Paul, and his eye are wide and a little confused. “So they know?” He asks. “And they don’t care?”

I chuckle again as I lead him to my cruiser. “They’ve known for weeks. And they’ve been giving me the exact same kind of shit they’d give me for anyone I was dating. No, they really don’t care.”

I help him into the front seat and pause momentarily before leaning over and kissing his lips lightly. His lip is busted, so I pull away quickly. “I hope that didn’t hurt.”

“Not at all.” Paul smiles at me and I can feel him watching me as I round the hood and slide into the driver’s seat. I pull out of the motel parking lot and head for Shafter Falls, and Paul leans over toward me and smiles.

I smile back at him, holding my hand out to him. He grabs it. His hold on my hand is weak, but I don’t care. All that matters is the feeling of his warmth to remind me that he’s here.

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