Page 102 of Come Back To Me

Feeling an ice-cold jab of annoyance, I press my lips together. “No,” I reply in a clipped tone. “We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to.”

His eyes swirl as he tries to focus on me. “Yes. You do.”

I shake my head.

“Do it.” With a splutter he chokes, sharply grabbing for oxygen. “Do it, then you’ll be okay in here.”

Okay in here?I might live. But I wouldn’t be living. “I don’t care about that,” I tell him. There’s only one place I want to live. If I can’t live there, then there’s no point.

“Liar.” The corner of my lip twitches. “It’s okay… I haven’t known you… that long.”

Staring at him, this fucker’s joking with me as I hold a knife to his throat. And he thinksI’mfucked up. “That’s messed up.”

As I speak, The Saint grabs for my wrist with his other hand. “Enough!” he yells squeezing, thoroughly out of patience.

“Do it!” Luke shrieks coughing up more blood.

My time has run out. I’m about to take my friend’s life against my will. I shout out, pulling back my hand as best I can as The Saint pushes forward. With gritted teeth, I’m unable to watch.

The split second before the knife’s about to penetrate Luke’s skin, a thunderous alarm sounds. The Saint’s hand stops. Our heavy breaths surpass that of the drilling vibrations bouncing off the walls.

Letting go of Luke, The Saint lowers his face to mine.

The men holding me push my body flush with the table when I try to push away.

Black eyes then narrow with revulsion. “You’re a dead man.” I hold his stare, understanding his words on every level. I won’t be going home. He stands straight as his minions let me go. Together, they make their way to the door, leaving us.

My heart breaks to hell. A putrid poison kills my soul.This is merely what you deserve, you fucking idiot. Looks like I’m learning the hard way again.

In silence, I get my breathing under control. “You should… have killed, me.” Luke’s voice is barely audible.

I push myself off the table, rounding it to him. “I know.” I guide him to his feet, hooking an arm under his good side. “We need to get you to the nurse.”

“I’m… sorry,” he says.

We hobble to the door, checking left and right before we move. “Why are you apologising you soppy prick?” I drag him, virtually holding all of his weight as he stays in the present.

“You know why.”

I stall, my feet almost coming to a halt. He’s sorry? I’m the one who failed to keep my promise. Shaking my head, I pick up my pace, carrying him along the corridor towards the medical wing.

Two guards approach us. “Don’t move!” they yell.

I stop, waiting for them to come to their senses and intervene. “He needs help!”

“What happened?” They then move to take Luke from me.

“I don’t know? I just found him. Hurry! He needs fixing, quick!”

They scurry, guiding Luke through the door to where he’ll get help.

He looks back to me, rendering me unable to move. He’s sorry?

Every emotion a man could feel plummets into me, knocking me back a step. I brace myself, one hand on the wall, pulling at my clothes as I try to breathe. It’s no good. As thoughmy legs are then swiped from underneath me, I’m suddenly unable to stand. What the fuck is this?

Panic.

I’m struck by anger and pain. But more than anything, a raw, agonising sadness grips me from the inside, winding itself so tightly around my core. My body’s bowed, my limbs shaking. I allow it to take over me, to consume me completely.

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