Lie to Me

by Natasha Preston

  Everyone ignores my dad, besides Kent, who I feel tense even more beside me.

  I focus on Simon because he's so close to handing the knife to me. He shuffles forward a step, eyes staring into mine like he's trying to tell me something. I don't know what it is because he's so emotionless. His facial expression is blank.

  "That's it," I reply and hold my hand out.

  Kent takes a step forward, so he's slightly closer to Simon than I am. I don't even think Simon noticed, as he's not looked away from me.

  "Sav," Simon breathes, "it's never over."

  In the blink of an eye, Simon lunges at me. Kent shouts something and grabs me, but it's too late. Simon is in my face. I feel the sharp coldness of the blade in my abdomen.

  There's a flurry of reactions, but I seek Kent.

  Oh God.

  His eyes are wide and mouth parted as he grips my upper arms. "Savannah!"

  Pain blasts through my stomach, and my legs go weak. Kent catches me as my knees give way.

  "It's okay, babe," he whispers, kneeling down and cradling me against his chest. His hand pushes down on my stomach.

  "Ahh!" I cry out, pushing my face into his chest as my abdomen catches fire.

  "Shh, I'm sorry, baby. I need to stop the bleeding. Look at me."

  The pain is overwhelming, stealing my breath and slowing my heart, but with effort, I still manage to tilt my head.

  I instantly wish I hadn't bothered. Kent's beautiful turquoise eyes are glazed with unshed tears. My mouth drops, ready to tell him to stop, to convince him that I'm fine, but I can't speak. Nothing will come out.

  "Don't. It's okay," he says, noticing the battle I'm having. "Don't talk. Focus on me. Stay with me. Your mum is calling for help. Paramedics will be here soon."

  I nod, but the action is agonising.

  "You're going to be fine, babe. I promise."

  My eyes are heavy. The blistering pain is tugging me toward sleep. I want to go. Right now, I would go willingly, but I'm too scared that I won't wake up. I don't want to leave Kent.

  "Hey, hey," he says. His face blurs out of focus. "Savannah, listen to me."

  I can see him better again. I raise my arm and grip his chest, needing something to hold on to.

  "That's it. Keep your eyes open, okay? When we get out of the hospital, we're going to the Maldives."

  His eyes flick to my belly, and for a nanosecond, they portray blinding fear. I feel more pressure as he pushes his hand harder on my stomach.

  How long until the ambulance is here?

  Where is everyone else?

  All I see is Kent.

  He looks back up and smiles. "It's not that bad."

  Now, you're the one lying to me.

  "They're going to fix you up, Savannah, and then I'm bringing you home. I'm going to look after you, and I swear on my life, no one will ever hurt you again."

  It's so cold in here. My body is heavy. I can feel Kent's arm tightening under me as he takes more and more of my weight.

  "Baby, hey," he says, pressing his forehead to mine, "stay with me. I need you to do that."

  He's out of focus again.

  Kent? Come back.

  My heart races. I don't want to leave him, but everything is slowly turning black.

  "Savannah!" he snaps. "Look at me."

  I'm trying.

  Kent!

  "Hey, come on, you can do it. I'm here. Listen to my voice. Help is on the way. I can hear them. Baby, please, look at me."

  I can't.

  Darkness.

  I don't know if my eyes are closed, but I can't see.

  Cold creeps up my spine and branches out to each limb.

  "Savannah!"

  I love you, Kent.

  38

  Kent

  "Savannah!" I shout.

  She's limp in my arms. Eyes closed.

  My world stops.

  "Savannah!"

  Her dad and sister are holding Simon down on the floor, but he's not even tried to move. Her mum is on the phone by my front door, waiting for help.

  "Wake up, baby. Savannah, wake up!" I shake her because I can't move my hand to tap her face. "Fuck, Savannah, wake up!"

  My heart races, hands shaking. Her chest is rising and falling still, but she won't wake up.

  Why the fuck won't you wake up?

  "Savannah, can you hear me? I know you can."

  She's breathing, so I have to believe that she can hear me.

  "I know I've said it a thousand times before, but I really do love you. I've always known what love is. My parents shower me in it, I have two sisters I'd do anything for, and I have friends who are more like brothers. But then you came along. Fuck me, Savannah, I was not prepared for it. Falling in love with you hit me so hard."

  Her blood is warm and slippery against my hand, leaking through my fingers. I've stemmed the flow considerably, but I can still feel it dripping further down my wrist.

  Is that why she's out of it? Because of the blood loss? She just needs a transfusion and she'll be okay.

  "There's supposed to be a very fine line between love and hate. Before you, I never believed that. I thought that love was love, and hate was hate. Stupid of me to be so black and white about something really, but you came along and threw a whole bunch of stormy grey in there.

  "You changed my world, Savannah, and there is still so much I want to show you, so many places I want to take you. And I still need to marry you. So, you'd better just be taking a fucking nap right now, babe. I'm not doing this without you."

  I can feel her stomach moving where she's breathing. I don't know if it's fear talking, but it's getting shallower.

  My muscles bunch.

  "Savannah."

  "They're here!" her mum shouts. I hear her run out the door, ready to meet them off the lift.

  Thank fuck.

  "Did you hear that? The paramedics are here. I need you to hold on, babe. Stay with me. Keep listening to my voice. I'm not going anywhere, not ever, so you can't either."

  If she dies, my life will be over. That might sound dramatic, but some types of love you can't carry on without. I wouldn't even know how to live without her anymore. She is the centre of my world. Everything I now do is built around her--what I think she'd like, when I'm going to see her, or where we want our future to be.

  I don't want a tomorrow if she doesn't finish today.

  "I found a house," I tell her. "I was going to surprise you. It happened completely by accident. It's my parents' neighbour. Don't worry; they're still a mile away, but their house is only a few years old. It's modern, the way you like, and I'm already planning to attach a tyre to a tree over the stream."

  I pull back a little to look at her. To make sure she's still with me. My breath catches. Her skin is pale, lips tinted the tiniest bit blue.

  "Savannah, fight," I whisper.

  Fuck.

  Savannah's chest stops moving.

  "No!" I shout. "Help!"

  My arms shake. I lay her down. She needs CPR.

  "Fuck no, don't do this to me, babe." I look over my shoulder and shout, "Help!"

  Isla leaves Simon, still being pinned under her dad, and runs over. "Oh God."

  "Put pressure on the wound," I snap, placing my palms over her chest.

  I push down hard. Really hard. Bringing my hands up and down in succession, I pump her chest, willing her heart to start beating again.

  Come on, baby, come on.

  I pump.

  She can't leave me.

  My eyes well. I blink tears. Fear wraps around my lungs and squeezes.

  I pump. Down. Up. Down. Up.

  Please, Savannah. Please breathe.

  She can have mine. I'll trade places with her in an instant. She's so sweet, so strong, and so independent. All she needs to do is believe in herself more, and my girl could conquer the world. Savannah can't be the one to leave. Not her.

  I pump.

  Isla chants, "Oh God."

 
In the distance, I can hear their mum frantically relaying information to whoever has arrived first. Police or paramedics. I need it to be the paramedics.

  Savannah's life is in my hands, and it's agony.

  Come on, breathe.

  I pump.

  I love you. Don't leave me.

  My palms force down into her chest, and with each compression, each time my hands get close to her heart, I'm begging her to fight as hard as I am.

  "Savannah," I mumble as my efforts seem to have no effect.

  Footsteps thud toward us.

  Paramedics. Through tears, I see clothes.

  One of them, a female, fires questions that I'm unable to answer.

  How long have I been doing chest compressions?

  I don't know. Forever.

  Isla has the answers and relays the information they need.

  I can't see anything but her still chest.

  I can't hear anything other than the sound of my own pulse. And I wish I could give it to her.

  I'm being moved. Slumping back, I brace myself on my hands and stare dumbly at my future fading in front of me.

  My heart is beating too fast.

  I'm fucking overheating.

  She's going to die.

  They're going to tell me there's nothing more they can do for her.

  There will be a funeral.

  I can't go to her funeral.

  My fingers cut into the wooden floorboards under me.

  I can't fucking breathe.

  Is this how she felt before she stopped breathing?

  They're shocking her. Her chest jumps up.

  Nothing.

  Jump.

  Nothing.

  39

  Kent

  Savannah, come on.

  Jump.

  "There it is," one of them says. "Okay, let's get her out of here."

  Closing my eyes, I drop my head back and breathe in relief.

  Oh fuck. Thank fuck.

  She's alive.

  She's alive, and she's going to be okay. She has to be.

  I stand as they carefully put her on the gurney and lift her up, my tears not yet drying but falling for another reason.

  As I turn, the police run into my apartment. I ignore them as they head for Simon on the floor, and I go with Savannah.

  Neither one of her parents asks if they can go in the ambulance. There is no way in hell I would allow that to happen anyway. Savannah wants them out of her life for the most part, so the person she needs to see when she wakes up is me.

  We head down in the lift, both paramedics focused on her, checking her pulse.

  I can't keep my eyes off her. She's so beautiful. I don't know how I got so lucky. When she wakes up, I won't waste another second. I won't ever let anything get in the way of us again.

  "She's going to be okay, isn't she?" I mutter, not able to tear my eyes away from her face.

  "It's looking good right now, but we can't promise."

  I press my lips together. They can't promise. Of course they can't, but that's not good enough.

  The lift doors slide open, and we race out toward the ambulance parked right outside the building. They load the gurney in, and I jump up, too.

  One of the paramedics slams the back door shut and goes to drive.

  "Can I hold her hand?" I ask, desperate to touch her, to feel warmth.

  He looks up from where he's checking her pupils. "Of course. Talk to her as much as you can."

  I reach out, hesitating for a second because I'm fucking scared that she won't be warm. When my hand touches hers, I feel the connection in my whole body. Closing my eyes, I savour the moment and how she makes me feel.

  "Hey, babe," I say, flicking my eyes open and giving her hand a squeeze. I rub my thumb over her knuckles. "We're on our way to the hospital, so they can take care of you. Once they're finished, it's over to me. And you know that means my mum, too. You think she's over the top on birthdays; you wait and see what she does when someone's unwell."

  Mum is going to love fussing over her, almost as much as I am.

  "Don't worry; I'll rein her in. She's going to want to move in with us until you're better, but I'll get Dad on board. It'll just be you and me, the way it's supposed to be."

  I continue to talk to her for the next ten minutes about absolute bullshit. The ambulance pulls to a stop.

  The back door is opened, and I'm suddenly struggling to keep up. She's wheeled into Accident and Emergency, the paramedics relaying the information that Isla gave them. I follow, but once we reach the double doors inside, I'm stopped.

  "You can't come any further."

  I can't go any further.

  She's on her own now.

  Who's going to make her fight?

  She nearly died back there.

  The paramedic in the ambulance told me to keep talking to her.

  Shouldn't I keep talking to her?

  I watch the double doors swing gently until they stop. The receptionist who took Savannah's details when she fractured her wrist comes over. She gives me information about where to wait because Savannah is going straight into surgery.

  The hospital seems a lot bigger than before. The corridors area is like a maze. I've been told there's a waiting room, and someone will come and find me there when there is news. So, I go because there's nothing else I can do for her now. I text my parents and Heidi on the way. I fucking need them right now.

  My parents are the first ones to burst through the door, shortly followed by Heidi and Brooke.

  I've not relied on a fucking hug from my mum since I was a kid, but the second her arms wrap around me, I almost collapse into them.

  "I thought she was dead," I rasp, trying to ignore the very real fact that she might still leave me.

  "Shh, I know. It's okay, Kent. She's going to be fine," she coos into my ear.

  I want to believe that, but there's this masochistic part of me that can't help thinking about her dying.

  "Let's sit, son," Dad says, leading me and Mum to seats in the corner.

  Heidi and Brooke give me a hug before sitting down, too.

  "What happened?" Brooke asks.

  My mind flashes back. The knife. My scream. Savannah falling in my arms. The fear that I thought might cripple me.

  I tell the story, almost robotically, relaying the facts and trying to keep the emotion out. I can't talk about how scared I was.

  "She's going to be okay," Heidi says. She sounds so sure of herself. "Where are her parents now?"

  I shrug. "I don't know, and I don't care."

  They could be talking to the police. They're probably making sure Isla is okay.

  Pushing my arms out, I try to relieve the ache.

  "What's wrong?" Mum asks, watching me stretch out my muscles.

  My arms are fucking killing me. Why haven't I noticed that? As soon as I do, they throb.

  "Nothing," I grit through my teeth, my heart tying in knots.

  "Tell me, Kent." She puts her hand on my forearm.

  "I had to ..." Fuck. Breathing deeply through my nose, I manage to say, "She stopped ... I had to do chest compressions." And, now, my arms ache like fuck. It's a bitter physical reminder of the worst fucking moment of my life.

  Dipping my head, I close my eyes. More tears fall.

  "Oh my God," Heidi gasps.

  I'm swarmed by more than one set of arms as my family pulls close.

  We wait. One hour. Then, two.

  Time is supposed to be the one consistent thing. A minute is always sixty seconds. An hour is always sixty minutes. But, when you're waiting for something, when your whole future is suspended in the air, time crawls.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" Heidi asks.

  I know what she's asking. And, no, I don't want to talk about trying to revive my girlfriend after she technically died.

  I couldn't do it. If the paramedics hadn't turned up, she would be dead.

  The sting in my chest intensifies. I roughly rub over
my heart with the palm of my hand.

  I'm about to leave the room and get some air because the walls are closing in, and my nerves are burned, but the door swings open.

  My heart stops. "How is she?"

  The doctor smiles. "She had an internal bleed, but we've managed to repair the damage. She's been in recovery and doing really well. I can take you to her now."

  My back straightens, heart soaring. "I can go now?"

  She smiles again. "She's just been transferred to the ward. Only one for now though."

  "That's fine," I say.

  Everyone else can wait.

  "We'll follow you to the ward and wait outside until we can see her, too," Mum says as they gather their things.

  I'm already out the door with the doctor and following her down the corridor. She leads me somewhere around the other fucking side of the hospital. My pulse quickens as she swipes her card and pushes the door open to Ward E.

  Savannah is in the first room. The lighting is low, like it's nighttime. She's lying in bed, her head slightly raised.

  Her eyes flick to me, and I feel like I've been punched in the chest.

  "You're awake," I breathe.

  "Hi," she rasps, blinking heavily.

  I stride to her bed and sit down. Stroking her cheek, I say, "You're okay."

  "I'm okay," she repeats. Her voice is low, almost a yawn. "I love you."

  "Savannah." Her name is a whisper. "Babe, I love you so much. You scared the shit out of me back there."

  "Scared me, too." Her eyes tear as she stares at me like she's seeing me for the first time again. "I didn't want to go to sleep. I could hear your voice, and I wanted to stay like you said, but I couldn't--"

  "Shh." I lean over and kiss her lips. "None of that matters now. You're here, and I'm never leaving your side again."

  "Not ever?"

  "Not even while you pee."

  She scrunches her nose, making me laugh.

  I kiss her again.

  Epilogue

  Savannah

  One Year Later

  "I want more," Kent murmurs into my ear as he rolls beside me.

  I flop my arm over his chest, facing him. He's lying on his back, chest rising and falling heavily, but his head faces me, like always.

  "You literally just came."

  He narrows his eyes. "Tell me you don't want another orgasm."

  I glue my lips together. Only crazy people don't want lots of orgasms. "I cannot lie to my husband."

  His eyes flit closed. "That's the first time you've called me that."

  "We've been married for only a few hours, Kent."