Page 19 of Damaged Enemy Next Door

"Torches!" I say. "Hold my hand, and we'll walk through the house. The first person to find a torch wins!"

Within five minutes, she finds one on the kitchen counter. She doesn't know I led her there, but she looks happy when I cheer for her.

I switch on the torch, and suddenly know something is wrong. She’s pale as ice, and there’s sweat trickling down her forehead. Her lips are turning slightly blue.

“Emily,” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. “How are you feeling now?”

“Still sick, Daddy.”

Fuck no. Emily's eyes, which were sparkling earlier in the day, are swollen and dull. I can almost see the energy draining from her body. I move closer and feel a wave of warmth wash over me; Emily is burning with a fever. Her skin is so hot that it almost glows in the torchlight. Every breath she takes sounds labored, and she struggles to keep her eyes open. I quickly carry her to her bed and give her some paracetamol and a decongestant. But as I sit by her bedside and the night lingers on, she only seems to get worse.

CHAPTER 9

OLIVIA

Thestormispetrifying,and I wish I was at my father's house. There are so many moments of weakness that made me want to reach out to Adrian, but the phones don't work. I am sick with worry about my dad - wondering how he's holding up.

The thunder and lightning crash around me, rattling the windows with such intensity it feels as if the house is about to cave in. I have never experienced a storm this loud before — it sounds as if a whole army is marching through my house. My heart is pounding, and I wrap my arms tightly around myself in an attempt to calm my nerves.

In retrospect, it is no surprise I didn't hear the knocks on the door. The thunder roared louder than the knocks. What brought the presence of someone outside to my attention is the overwhelming sense of dread that washes over me, then my eyes focus on the light streaming in from underneath my windowsill - torch light from outside! Either someone is trying to break in or needed my help.

My heart races as I rush to the window only to find nothing there. Staring out into the darkness for what feels like an eternity, until all of a sudden - the distinct torch light shines upon my face, almost blinding me with its brightness amidst all this chaos that surrounds us.

It takes a few seconds for my eyes to settle, and only then do I realize that it is Adrian and he looks petrified. Without saying another word, I spring into action and quickly unlock the door for Adrian. He looks as if he is about to faint from fear as he rushes into my home. He has a gash across his forehead, which is bleeding.

"What happened?" I gasp, trying to reach out to inspect it. He swats my hand away and starts rambling.

"Help! My daughter is sick. I need a doctor!" he yells frantically, almost pleading with me, his face and clothes drenched from the rain. "Give me your phone, mine isn't working," he demands. His face — normally so composed — is full of distress now as his hands tremble with worry.

I quickly hand him my phone, but the hollow sound of a disconnected line greets him. He looks up at me with despair. "The lines are down," he whispers in a hoarse voice, his eyes clouded with hopelessness.

My heart aches for Adrian and his desperate plea for help. "The phone lines here are down too," I reply quietly, wanting to offer some sort of solution, though I know it is no use. I feel anxious as I watch the fear and desperation on his face grow even more intense. His entire body is shaking now, and he drops my phone onto the floor as if it could do nothing for him anymore.

I take a few deep breaths. "Listen," I ask, trying to get his panic under control. "Where is Emily right now?"

"She's in her room. I put her safely in bed and barricaded the windows with wooden planks, so the storm doesn’t break them. I gave her all the medicines I have on hand that are safe for a child, but she’s still wheezing, and I need to know what I should do but if I can’t contact a doctor right now … I need to go." He springs into action.

"No, wait," I yell over a new onslaught of thunderous roar from outside. "What are her symptoms?"

"She's got a fever, difficulty breathing, and can barely stay awake," he yells back.

I nod and run to my medicine cabinet, grabbing as many things as I can. It's now getting louder, and I motion at him, pointing toward his house. "I’m coming to help. I know my way around sick kids. Run," I mouth at him. Outside, there is debris flying around everywhere. We have to run, and we have to run fast - because we can’t risk getting injured.

And so, we take off - side by side. I am constantly looking around me, surveying our path with trepidation. The wind is strong now as it rushes past us, but neither of us wavers from our determined strides. At that moment, something massive and dark streaks past us - it's a tree! It's coming down directly in our path. "Look out!" he yells, pulling me away from the danger zone just in time. He looks at me, gasping for breath - realizing how close I was to being crushed by the tree. Suddenly, a gust of wind knocks me off my feet, and I stumble in the mud. Looking down, I see crimson red oozing out of a deep gash on my left calf - caused by a sharp metal jagged-edged tool that lodged its way there.

Suddenly, Adrian is in control. He picks me up in his arms and rushes through the storm, shielding me with his body. He's getting battered around left and right, but he doesn't seem to care. Within seconds, we're in his house. He slams the door shut behind him, fighting against the storm to do so. He places two large chairs to hold the door in place.

"Shit," he says, looking at me. "You're hurt. You're wet ..." His eyes scan my body.

I realize then that I'm wearing nothing but a white satin spaghetti strap crop top and satin shorts. No underwear. I'm also soaking wet, and I quickly glance down to see that my shorts are sticking to my skin, and transparent. He can also see my nipples. Embarrassed, my hands cover my chest, trying to hide the almost nudity of my outfit. I feel my cheeks flush red. Adrian notices what I'm doing and clears his throat.

"You need to change," he says, "I’ll get you some clothes. Till then ..." He walks over to the kitchen and quickly brings me a towel which I wear over my shoulders, protecting my chest. At least now, I feel less naked.

"You're also injured," he says, looking at the blood on my calf. "We need to fix this up and Emily and how do I call a doctor? What should we do? Should I risk driving? I just don’t know what to do … she’s never struggled with wheezing before." He places his head in his hands.

I watch him struggle, and I can tell this is a father torn between just wanting to focus on his daughter, and also being forced to care for my injuries. I make the decision for him and jump into action.

"First things first," I say, "you're injured too, on your forehead." The way he touches his forehead tells me that he's not even aware of his injury. "Secondly, we can wait. You and I are adults; we’ll be just fine tomorrow. Take me to Emily. I can help; trust me. As I said, I’ve worked with sick kids before."

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