In a few steps I’ve reached the corner of the building. I skid around the corner, almost losing my balance as my eyes scan up the building.
I hear him before I see him. The steel staircases are clanging as he sprints down them. I glance up further and see two police officers who are at least three storeys higher than him. They’ll never catch him. I scan the alleyway and see a dumpster a few feet away from me. I crouch down behind it, praying Greg won’t look down and see me before he’s on the ground.
If he goes the other direction I’ll never get to him. The last staircase is facing me, so I’m hoping he just takes off running straight ahead.
Time seems to slow down. All day today each second seemed to rush by but now it seems like an eternity since I’ve been crouched behind this smelly dumpster.
I can hear Greg’s footsteps. Clang, clang, clang. He’s practically sprinting down the stairs. I can hear his breath now, ragged and laboured as he moves closer and closer. Finally I hear the crunch of gravel under his feet.
My body is like a coiled spring. I can feel every atom in my body vibrating with anticipation as each footstep brings Greg Chesney closer to my hiding spot.
One,
Two,
Three!
I didn’t know it was possible for me to spring forward that quickly. The instant Greg’s sprinting form passes by me I’m on his heels, rushing at him. I realise when he turns his head towards me that I’m screaming like a deranged banshee. The wordless scream rips through my raw vocal chords as I hurl myself towards him.
Our bodies crash together and I wrap my arms around him. We fall to the ground and my arm stays pinned underneath him. We land with a thud and the air gets knocked out of me. He’s kicking, I’m kicking, we’re flailing on the ground. My arms are around him like a vice. There’s no thought, no intention, just pure animal instinct. I hear myself screaming and screaming and screaming.
Arms and legs appear around us. I’m torn off him and he’s tackled to the ground again. He’s handcuffed, I’m being sat down, there’s screaming, movement, questions, noise.
My chest is heaving and finally I can focus my eyes. Officer Benson is leaning down, nose to nose with me.
“What the fuck were you thinking! Didn’t I tell you to stay put?!”
“Rosie.”
I’m panting, I can’t speak. The anger in his eyes softens ever so slightly.
“Paramedics are on the way. We need to get her to hospital.”
I spring up to my feet and feel his strong arms hold me back.
“Calm down, fuck!” He shouts. “Guys!” Two more sets of arms wrap themselves around me and I stop moving. “The paramedics are on the way, I said! There’s nothing you can do. Come on.”
He nods his head and the two men lead me out front. We turn the corner just as the ambulance skids to a stop. I resist the urge to rush forward, instead waiting in tortuously long wait until I see the stretcher come down the stairs. I push my way into the ambulance behind her. The paramedics look at me curiously but nod to the officers, who let me go.
“Rosie!”
“Harps,” she pants. There’s red blood seeping through the bandages the paramedics have wrapped around her stomach. “Hey.”
“Shh,” I say as the tears well up. I find her hand and give it a squeeze. She squeezes back weakly, and her eyes flutter closed.
“Okay, Rosie, I need you to stay with us. Stay with us, okay?” The paramedic keeps talking, keeps Rosie awake as the ambulance starts speeding down the road. I hold her hand and ignore the tears as they keep streaming down my cheeks.
“Come on, Rosie,” I whisper. She squeezes my hand ever so gently and I let the tears flow down. “Come on, Rosie.”
44
Zach
My body is screaming as I lift myself off the bed. Pain is radiating from my chest through my side and down my arm. Mitch holds me steady and guides me to the wheelchair.
“This is stupid, Zach. I can go get her! You should be in bed.”
“I need to see her.”
There’s no hesitation in my voice, and it leaves no room for argument. Mitch sighs audibly but helps me up. I blow the air out of my nostrils as soon as I’m settled in the chair. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath as the pain in my chest dulls slightly.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I respond with a grimace. I’m not fine, but I have to see her. The police told me that Harper was okay, she was here with Rosie. I didn’t understand anything they said after that, something about surgery, critical condition, arrests. All I know is that Harper is in this hospital, waiting on Rosie to get out of surgery and I need to be with her.
I already messed up once by not being with her when she needed me, I’m not going to let that happen again. Mitch throws a blanket over my legs and tucks it in beside me.
“You’re going to make a great mother someday, you know that Mitch?”
“Shut up, Zach,” he replies with a grin. “You ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Mitch moves behind me and starts pushing the wheelchair. A second later, the front wheel crashes into the corner of the bed and my body lunches forward. I grunt as the impact sends another wave of nauseating pain through my chest.
“Fuck!”
“Oops! Sorry buddy!”
“Be careful! I just got stabbed for fuck’s sake.” I glance behind me and Mitch is looking at the doorway. I hear her before I see her.
“You two are like the Stooges,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. “Where are you going in your state anyways?”
She’s gorgeous. Harper is standing in the doorway looking radiant. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun and her eyes look tired and drawn but they’re shining bright, just like I’ve been imagining this whole time.
“Harper,” I breathe. The seconds tick by until Mitch clears his throat.
“I’ll be just outside if you need me.” He squeezes my shoulder as he walks by and we exchange a glance. I dip my chin down and he does the same. Thanks, I tell him with my eyes. The door closes softly behind him and then Harper and I are alone.
“I was just coming to find you,” I say to fill the silence.
“In your state?! You fool.” She’s smiling and I feel the corners of my lips curl upwards.
“Maybe I am a fool. I had to see you, to make sure you were okay. Harper, I…” my voice catches in my throat. “I just want to say I’m so—”
“Stop.” She holds up a hand and comes closer. Taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, she reaches forward and places her hand over mine. The second her skin touches mine, a healing warmth fills me. My throat feels like it’s completely closed up. “How’s your chest? They told me you were stabbed.”
“It’s fine,” I lie. “How about you, are you okay? How’s the baby?”
Harper’s eyes shine bright for a second before she answers. “I’m fine. The baby is fine as well, they gave me a full checkup when I came in. I was lucky. Rosie is in bad shape. She’s stable now, they’re saying she’ll make a full recovery. It’s all my fault, for both of you! You never would have gotten hurt if you hadn’t been seeing me. Greg attacked her with a knife and—”
Her voice catches and the tears fall down her cheeks. I grab her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. I notice the red marks on her wrists and brush them lightly.
“What’s this?” I whisper. Harper pulls her hand away and pulls her sleeve down before brushing her tears away.
“Nothing.”
“Harper..”
We stare at each other in silence until I clear my throat. “None of this is your fault, you hear me? No one could have predicted it.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to start or how to explain how I feel. How can I put it into words? How can I tell her that she means the world to me and that I’d let myself get stabbed a million times if it meant she and our baby were safe and healthy. How can I tell her that the past couple days have
been torture, not only because of Greg Chesney but because I wasn’t with her, because I let her down?
I turn the wheelchair towards her and put both my hands on her knees. Finally I build up the courage to say the only thing that even comes close to describing how I feel. It comes out as a barely audible whisper as I force myself to look into her shining eyes.
“I love you.”
Harper says nothing, but the tears start streaming down her cheeks again. My heart starts thumping and I reach up to brush them away.
“It’s true, Harper. I love you. I’m sorry I was an ass. I want to be with you and I want to have this baby.”
I can’t say anything else because Harper’s lips are on mine. She flies into my arms and my chest explodes, but the pain is like background noise. The only thing that matters is Harper’s kiss, her touch, her body. I tangle my fingers into her hair and pull her in. This kiss is more than just a kiss. It’s the end of everything that’s been going on between us since that doctor’s appointment. It’s everything I’ve been too scared to say, everything I’ve been too scared to feel.
Harper wraps her arms around my neck and sits down on my lap. I wrap my arms around her and pull her in closer, breathing in deeply to inhale her scent. I pull my head back.
“I was so worried about you. It was killing me to be stuck here.”
“I didn’t think of you at all,” she replies with a grin before leaning over and kissing me softly. She pulls her lips away and rests her forehead against mine. “I thought of you constantly ever since you dropped me off. Zach,” she hesitates and then takes a deep breath. “I love you too.”
It might have taken a few minutes for her to say it back to me but it doesn’t matter. As soon as the words leave my lips I feel like I’m floating. The pain leaves my body and I run my fingers along her jaw to pull her in for another kiss.
Nothing else matters. Nothing matters except Harper and our child. I slide my hand down and place it over her stomach. She interlaces her fingers over mine and pulls her head back, smiling at me. We both look down at our hands and then back at each other’s eyes. Her green eyes look like the emeralds I’ve been picturing all day. There’s nothing in them except relief, happiness, and love.
45
Harper
“Is this the invalid party room?” Rosie says as I wheel Zach into her room. “Who else do we know that’s been stabbed?”
I laugh. “Something like that. Does that mean I’m not invited?”
“I’ll make an exception for you this time,” Rosie says. I smile as I push Zach over and pull up a chair beside her. Rosie looks worn out. There are dark circles under her eyes and she’s got a tube of oxygen in her nose. There’s an IV dripping clear liquid into her hand.
“How are you feeling?” I know it’s a silly question, but I can’t think of anything else to say.
“Awful,” Rosie says with a grimace. “But I’ll live.”
“This is all my fault. I’m sorry.”
Both Rosie and Zach make a noise in protest. Zach puts a hand over my arm and Rosie squeezes my hand.
“You did nothing wrong, Harps,” Rosie says. “We knew he was deranged.”
“If anything, it’s my fault,” Zach says slowly. I turn my head and see the pain in his eyes. “I didn’t bother to know what was going on in my own company. I should have known what was happening a year ago, I never would have let it go on like it did. I should have been there with you when he showed up. I’m sorry.”
“Will both of you stop it,” Rosie says with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s nobody’s fault except Greg’s. Did you come to my house and stab me six times?” She looks at me. “No? How about you? Did you do it?” She looks at Zach. “Right. That’s what I thought. It was Greg Fucking Chesney. Now both of you need to stop beating yourselves up. We’re all here, we’re alive, and the baby is okay. That’s all that matters.”
Rosie lies back in bed and closes her eyes for a minute as if to say, that’s the end of that discussion.
“Maybe you’re right,” I respond. She snorts. “Still, I wish you hadn’t been stabbed.”
Rosie grins, her eyes still closed. “At least I get to enjoy the best food that the hospital has to offer. And I’ll have some cool scars.”
I glance at Zach and he nods. I take a deep breath. For some reason I’m more nervous about this than I thought I would be.
“Rosie,” I start. She makes a noise but doesn’t open her eyes. “Zach and I were talking and…” I hesitate. “Will you be the baby’s godmother? You’re my best friend and you’ve always been there for me. I’d love it if you were part of my—our—kid’s life as well.”
Rosie finally opens her eyes and turns her head. They’re misty and wet and she smiles weakly. “Of course,” she whispers. “I’d be honoured.”
Warmth floods through my chest I reach over and hold Rosie’s hand. Zach puts his arm around my shoulders and the three of us sit there in silence. A peacefulness settles over us as we share a quiet moment. Rosie breaks the silence.
“Your kid better not be a little shit. If it’s annoying you’re going to hear about it.”
“I never knew you were so nurturing, Rosie,” Zach quips.
I laugh. “She’s definitely got the Mother Hen gene.”
Rosie smiles and shrugs. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
We spend a few more minutes talking about nothing and everything, talking about anything except what we’ve just been through. I watch as both Rosie and Zach wince whenever they move and it’s as is I can feel their pain in my own body. The two people I love the most have been hurt because of me. No matter how much they tell me it wasn’t my fault I still feel responsible.
I fiddle with my grandmother’s ring, turning it around and back on my finger. This is the ring that enraged Greg. The ring that made him stab Zach, the ring that was proof in his eyes of my connection to him. Now I know that he took it from my office, he used it to threaten Zach. He took it off my finger when I was unconscious and used it as a threat again, as proof of our indiscretions.
Zach slips his hand into mine and stops me fidgeting with the ring. I glance at him and he smiles sadly. He knows what I’m thinking, I don’t need any words to know it. Rosie clears her throat.
“Alright, lovebirds. I’m getting tired and the nurse will be here soon to change my bandages. Party’s over, I’m afraid.”
I smile and lean over to give her a one-armed hug. She pats my back gently.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, okay Rosie?”
“Just take care of yourself and the kid,” she says. She smiles and I see once again the kindness and strength that makes her who she is.
I push the wheelchair out the door and down the hallway. Zach reaches his hand up towards me and interlaces his fingers with mine. Even that simple touch calms me down. We’re passed words, passed explanations. We both know that I’m his, and he’s mine.
Epilogue
Harper
Four months later…
“Zach! Zach give me your hand!” I reach over in bed as Zach grunts, just barely awake. “Come on give me your hand!”
I grab his palm and place it over my stomach. My skin is warmer than his and the touch is refreshing. After a few seconds, Zach sits up and looks at me, wide-eyed.
“Was that a kick?!”
“Yes! It just woke me up!”
Zach’s eyes are still as big as saucers. He glances from my face to my stomach, moving his hand around gently. “Wow,” he breathes.
The giggles burst out of me. “It’s kicking! That’s such a weird feeling.”
“It’s kicking so much! It has to be a boy!”
I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything. And I know you, your heart would melt if you had a little girl.”
“I don’t care what it is,” he says as he runs his hand up my body, cupping my breast and dipping his chin towards me. “As long as it’s healthy and you’re healthy it doesn’t matter what it is.”
>
I smile as his lips touch mine. My happiness is complete. I’ve finally moved the last of my things into his apartment and we’re having our first lazy Sunday morning in bed together in our apartment. I run my fingers over the scar on his chest and he shivers. He puts his hand over mine and we lay there, our hands over his heart, over his scar. I can feel his heart beating and I lean into him.
“Getting stabbed was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says. “Now I have this as a reminder of what I almost lost.” Zach lifts his head up and strokes the side of my face. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I wish you didn’t get stabbed though,” I grin. “There’s lots of less painful reminders that I’m the best.”
He smiles and then chuckles and my heart melts. I’ve never felt the kind of bursting feeling in my chest before. It’s like I’m so full of love and happiness that I’m coming apart at the seams, like my body can’t contain the sheer emotion that fills me up.
Zach runs his hand over my chest and down my arm. He spreads my hand and slides his fingers in between mine. His lips find mine and they fuse together. I’ll never get sick of kissing him.
He grips my hand a little bit tighter and then pulls away, looking down at our interlocked fingers. He turns my hand around and watches as my grandmother’s old ring glints in the morning light.
“You only ever wear that one ring.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’ve always worn it.”
“Would you ever consider wearing another one?”
I frown and my heart starts beating a little bit faster. Is he saying what I think he’s saying…?
“I mean… I guess?”
Zach grins. “What I mean is, if I gave you a ring would you wear it?”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Would you say yes if I was?”
I laugh. “What is this, Sunday morning riddles? What are you saying, Zach? Spit it out.”
“I’m saying marry me.”
Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set Page 15