by Helen Lowrie
‘You stupid, ungrateful, fucking bitch,’ Vic spat in my ear. ‘I gave you everything – everything!’ Wrenching my head up by my hair, he brought his knife up to my throat. The blade was hot and sticky with blood. My blood?
In the distance Liam swam back into my vision and as he shouted something I couldn’t hear, Jamie’s head snapped up. My Jamie. His gaze zeroed in on me in an instant and he dropped the pickaxe as he launched into a run.
Vic’s rant continued to rage in my ear but I was no longer listening. I knew he was going to kill me; I’d always known it; I was surprised it had taken him this long. But part of me no longer cared. I could only stare, mesmerised, as Jamie ran. I’d seen him sprint before and it was beautiful, the way his body moved with such power, agility and focus. And he was fast, so very fast; he’d already reached the fence that separated the fields halfway down the hill. He jumped the gate without slowing, swinging his long legs out to one side, high up and over like a gymnast, every taut muscle in his chest defined by sunshine and shadows, his gaze still fixed on mine. Even at this distance he looked determined, heroic, sexy. He was so quick that he was already gaining on Liam, who was also powering towards me. But they were still a long way off and, as Vic pressed the edge of the blade into my throat, I knew that they would not be fast enough.
Chapter Fifty-six
Liam’s sudden shout startled me, making my neck prickle as I looked up. The sight of Kat – sprawled on the ground of the nursery with a man hunkered down over her, had my heart lurching out of my chest. Dropping the pickaxe, I was moving before I’d even decided to; my body propelled into a sprint by pure instinct. It must be Vic – that sadistic bastard was alive but not for much longer; I was going to kill him.
I kept my eyes trained on Kat as I ran, my mind a panic of questions I couldn’t answer and fears I couldn’t bear to contemplate. Was that a weapon in his hand? Was that blood? I was vaguely aware of people staring up at me from the garden centre, open-mouthed in surprise, but they were of no consequence. I had to get to Kat – that was all that mattered.
Halfway down the hill was a gate but I braced my hands on the top and vaulted over it without stopping. I’d promised I’d protect her; I’d promised. Willing myself to move faster, to fly, my heart rate hammered through my body like a runaway train. Don’t do it, Vic, you bastard – don’t you dare!
Suddenly another man stepped out from the burnt-out remains of the potting shed. He looked familiar; I recognised him as one of our regular customers – the Eastern European guy who never spent very much. But he had his arm raised towards Vic. Was that a gun? A loud crack rang out, Vic’s whole body jerked sideways away from Kat and her head dropped to the floor as if she was dead. No! No! No!
Liam was unlatching the side access gate into the nursery and wrenching it open. I flew past him and reestablished sight of Kat again in time to see the gunman kick Vic’s limp body over on to its back, snap a picture on his mobile phone and stride away.
At last I skidded on to my knees beside Kat, shouting her name and lifting her face. Her eyes were closed, her skin streaked with blood and dirt. A large bloody knife lay beneath her neck and she had a cut there but thankfully it didn’t look deep. I recognised the knife – it was the same one that had mysteriously shown up in the shop by the tills six weeks ago. Had Vic been here then? I shoved the blade away in disgust.
‘Kat? Oh God, Kat, speak to me, please?’ Her eyes fluttered and I almost sobbed at the small sign of life. ‘Where are you hurt, Kat?’ My eyes roamed blindly over her body before fixing on her lower back where her T-shirt was ripped open and soaked in a dark, spreading pool of blood. ‘Fuck!’ Yanking my own T-shirt out of my back pocket, I balled it up and pressed it to the wound to stem the flow. She cried out in agony and my stomach heaved in response. ‘I’m sorry; I have to stop the blood.’
I was aware of Liam on his phone breathlessly requesting an ambulance and directing other members of staff somewhere behind me but I could only focus on Kat. Returning one trembling, bloodstained hand to her face, I stroked her hair back behind her ear.
‘Kat? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?’ Her eyelids flickered again.
‘I’ve got this,’ Liam said, crouching down on the other side of Kat’s body and applying pressure over my wadded shirt. With both my hands free I gently cradled Kat’s head, shifting my face down, nearer to hers.
‘I love you, Kat, you hear me? Everything’s going to be all right.’
Her mouth opened and I leaned in closer. ‘You’re so fast,’ she whispered, ‘thank you. I’m so glad I can say goodbye.’
‘No, Kat! Not goodbye, you’re all right! You’re going to be OK. Don’t leave me, Kat. I can’t be alone again. Open your eyes, Kat, look at me!’
Her eyes struggled open, her pupils tiny points in her deathly pale face, but she met my gaze with determination, her voice steadying. ‘You won’t be alone – so many people love you, all your friends, even customers–’
‘It’s not the same, Kat. You are my foundation. You’re my place in this world – without you I’ve got nothing. Stay with me, Kat, please.’ Her eyes closed again, a frown creasing her brow.
‘The ambulance is here,’ Liam muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the approaching sirens.
‘You hear that Kat? Help is coming; you’re going to be OK. Kat? Look at me please.’ But she didn’t move her eyes again, her face had gone slack, her breathing shallow – she lay lifeless in my hands.
Various law enforcers – some of them armed police officers – spread out across the nursery rounding up witnesses and working to clear the area as they searched for the gunman. But I ignored them all.
‘She only has one kidney,’ I heard myself say, as the paramedics elbowed me out of the way and took over. Liam helped me back up on to my feet and I stood, swaying, my legs weak, staring impotently, choked with desolation, as Kat was carried away from me.
Chapter Fifty-seven
I woke sore, woozy and hooked up to machines, the hospital sounds and smells depressingly familiar as I struggled to open my eyes. I couldn’t recall why I was in this time but I didn’t care because for once I wasn’t alone. Jamie Southwood was holding my hand. Nothing else mattered. He looked older and more haggard than I’d ever seen him but his eyes were warm and bright with emotion as they searched my face.
‘Kat, you’re awake; I should get someone,’ he said, rising to his feet.
I couldn’t speak but I concentrated my meagre energy into squeezing his hand and he sank back into his seat, his gaze never wavering. I just wanted to look at him, to enjoy the feel of his hand in mine – who knew how long this precious moment would last. Even as the thought drifted through my mind I could feel the darkness closing in again, reclaiming me, pulling me under and dragging my heavy eyelids closed.
‘Keep fighting, Kat, please. Come back to me,’ he said, as I floated away.
Some time later I came to again still halfway between sleep and consciousness. It took me a while to register that I could hear voices, male voices, and even longer to realise that one of them belonged to Jamie. I was reluctant to rouse myself – I felt numb, weightless, as if my head was disconnected from my body – and the low familiar rumble of Jamie’s tone was more soothing than any lullaby. But once I’d identified his voice I tried to listen.
‘You said that the operation went well but she’s still not waking up?’
‘It did go well; we managed to stop the bleeding and repair the puncture wound to her kidney but it has gone into shock. So far it hasn’t recovered enough to function properly so the longer she rests the better.’
‘What if her kidney doesn’t recover?’
‘We need to give it a few more days first; we’ll keep a close eye on her –’
‘But if her kidney fails? What then?’
‘With regular dialysis a person can manage without kidneys but it’s obviously not ideal. In that instance we would look to find a suitable replacement on the d
onor register.’
‘And what are the odds of finding a match?’
‘It may not come to that –’
‘But if it does could she have mine? Can she have my kidney?’
‘Mr Southwood I appreciate that you want to help Katerina, and of course we can get you tested, but the chances that you will be a compatible blood and tissue match are –’
‘She might be my sister.’
‘I’m sorry, I, I thought –’
‘It’s a long story. We were both adopted – or rather I was adopted and she wasn’t – but someone recently suggested that we might be related. We were waiting for the DNA test results when this happened.’
‘Oh. Right. I see.’
‘So can you test me for donation? How long will it take?’
The doctor sighed. ‘Even if you are blood relations it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll –’
‘I know but I want you to test me – I want to be the one to help her, if I can.’
‘Very well we can start the ball rolling but, if you really want to help her, you should go home and get some rest –’
‘I’m not leaving. I’ll rest here but I’m not leaving.’
I’d forgotten that Jamie and I might be siblings. The memory was a bitter one and made me reluctant to remember anything more. I assumed it was Vic who’d put me in the hospital – it usually was – but I had no desire to recall the specifics. Of more immediate concern was Jamie’s reckless offer to donate his organs! Was he crazy? Didn’t he know the risks that surgery carried with it? Why hadn’t the doctor pointed them out? But the more my worry and frustration grew, the less equipped I felt to do anything about it. My energy was leaking away again, my thoughts separating and floating off in different directions like dandelion seeds dispersing on the wind. Was that the heady of scent of roses I could smell? Had someone brought me flowers? With Jamie’s voice no longer anchoring me in the room, I sank back into a welcome unconsciousness once more.
Chapter Fifty-eight
Kat let out a soft sigh and I lifted my head from the bed, searching her beautiful face for signs, silently willing her to wake. If she would only look at me, like she had before, I could live again. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her lying on the ground like a rag doll, limp and bloodied, or in the ambulance strapped to a gurney – her heart had stopped beating, her lips had turned blue and I‘d thought she was dead; or being rushed straight into the operating theatre where the doors had swung closed behind her, shutting me out. I’d been sure I’d never see her again and that I would never forgive myself.
After all it was me that had let this happen. I’d dropped my guard; let that fucker find her. Had Vic deliberately stabbed her in the kidney or was it blind luck on his part? Not that it mattered. He was still a murderous bastard. He would have slit her throat too if he hadn’t had his brains blown out. I almost wished he was still alive so that I could kill him with my own bare hands – at least then I’d be doing something useful rather than just sitting here in limbo, waiting, endlessly, anxiously – desperate for Kat to look at me.
She was fundamental to my existence – the only woman I would ever love. I needed to know that she would forgive me for not protecting her, for not being there when she needed me. I needed to know that, despite everything, she would come back to me.
Kat’s eyes shifted behind her lids, her lashes fluttering against the smooth planes of her cheeks and filling me with hope. In my hand her fingers twitched and flexed and I squeezed them gently.
‘Come back to me, Kat.’ She went still as if she’d heard me and I held my breath. And then, just like that, she opened her eyes and pinned me with her soft green gaze.
‘No,’ she croaked.
‘No?’
She frowned, closed her eyes, moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and tried again. ‘I don’t want your kidney.’
I laughed, taking her argumentative tone as a good sign, and delirious with relief. ‘You don’t want my kidney? I’m offended.’
She scowled and she was so beautiful I wanted to cry.
‘You don’t need it, Kat; you’re going to be OK; your own kidney is recovering – you’re going to be OK,’ I repeated, reassuring myself as much as her. The creases on her forehead smoothed out and she closed her eyes again. ‘Wait, Kat, don’t go back to sleep; let me call someone.’
I stood back while a male nurse checked Kat’s vitals in a way that was familiar to me from TV shows, stopping to jot down notes on her chart as he went along. Kat refrained from wincing or crying out as he inspected the bandage on her back, but I could tell from the tension in her face that she was in severe pain. Thankfully the nurse noticed too and, without my having to mention it, he administered more narcotic relief. The wound would become yet another scar in Kat’s collection but I solemnly made a vow to myself that it would be her last.
‘Do you remember what happened?’ the nurse said, gently.
‘Yeah, it’s coming back,’ muttered Kat.
‘We can arrange for some counselling, when you feel ready.’
Kat dismissed this idea with a shake of her head. ‘What day is it?’
‘Thursday,’ the nurse said. Kat fixed her gaze on me, her face grave, eyes burning, and I knew exactly what she was thinking, what she wanted to know. ‘We kept you sedated and let you rest for a while so that your body had a chance to heal,’ the nurse continued, oblivious to the unspoken question, heavy in the air between us. As he tucked in Kat’s covers, plumped up her pillow, and adjusted her drip we held our silence. ‘The consultant will be along to see you shortly to answer any questions you might have but in the meantime if you need anything just press this red call button.’
‘Well?’ Kat said, as soon as we were alone.
I took her hand again. She looked exhausted, despite days of rest, but she was braced for bad news and intent on an answer. ‘We’re not siblings, Kat; not even half siblings: the index value was less than one, on both tests.’
She just stared at me at first, as the news sank in, and then her face crumpled, tears spilling from her cheeks. ‘Are you sure?’ she croaked.
I nodded.
‘If you’re lying to me, Jamie.’
‘It’s true, Kat, I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re going to be OK – we are going to be OK.’
I handed her a tissue and she wiped her nose, her head sinking back into the pillows and her eyes closing as her strength waned.
‘Kat? Are you all right? Can I get you anything?’ She didn’t reply straight away and I wondered if she’d fallen asleep again.
‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.
Her gentle command warmed me from head to toe and as I leaned in she smiled, her eyes shimmering with a familiar green light. Pressing my mouth to hers was like coming home. The sweet taste of Kat’s lips spread through my body like honey, soothing away ten long days and nights of tension and fear, healing the aching sense of loss, and bringing me back to life.
To catch my breath I drew back slightly and she sighed, a contented sound, her cheeks flushed, as she slipped back into sleep.
‘Rest, Kat; we have all the time in the world.’
The End
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