“Harper and I belong together. Everyone wants to tear us apart but I won’t let that happen. We belong together.”
His chest is heaving up and down as he stares at me, his eyes darting back and forth. He’s obsessed with her. Does he know about the baby? The thought of this man being anywhere near Harper and my child makes my blood turn to ice.
“Where’s Harper?”
“She’s at home,” he replies. An eery grin appears on his face. “She’s in bed!”
His face terrifies me. Harper is in danger. My heart starts pounding in my chest and I try to reach into my pocket slowly. I need to call the police.
“I swear to God, Greg, if you touched one hair on her fucking head I’ll kill you myself,” I growl.
Greg ignores me. “I told you to stay away from her. We belong together. You people keep trying to tear us apart!” His eyes are becoming wilder with every second.
“Who’s trying to tear you apart?”
“You, stealing her away from me. That bitch Rosie always whispering in her ear about me, poisoning Harper’s mind. You all just want to keep us away from each other. We BELONG together!”
“She doesn’t want to be with you,” I say as calmly as I can manage. My whole body is trembling. My fingers have found my phone in my pocket but I can’t remember how to dial emergency without looking at it.
“You’re lying!” He yells as he pushes himself off the car, taking a step towards me. I put my hand up defensively, flowers in one hand and phone in the other.
“Stay back.”
“Or what,” he snarls. “I warned you. I warned you to stay away from her.”
“Since when do you have jurisdiction over Harper? Since you fucking terrorised her last year?”
“Terrorised her!?” His eyes widen and I see they’re not dead anymore. They’re alive with fury. “I terrorised her?? It was that bitch Rosie, I just told you. She twisted Harper’s mind and made her hate me. She was going to be my girlfriend! We were going to get married!”
I say nothing as I watch the spit flying out of his mouth with every word. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off his lips where it lands, only stares at me as he thrusts Harper’s ring towards me.
“And now Rosie has poisoned you too. She’s convinced you to go after Harper just to take her away from me.”
I feel my brows knit together. Rosie? Why does he have such a vendetta against her?
“Rosie has nothing to do with this,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Rosie has everything to do with this!” He yells. He takes another step towards me and puts the ring into his pocket and then reaches for something in the same pocket. My blood is thick in my veins as I watch him. I hold up the flowers defensively and wish I had something better to protect myself with. Finally I’m able to press the emergency button on my phone before slipping it back into my pocket. I keep my eyes on Greg.
“Where’s Harper?”
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
“That’s not what I asked, Greg. Where is she?”
“I said she doesn’t want to see you!”
His eyes are practically popping out of his head. The veins on his neck are pulsing with every heartbeat and his chest is heaving up and down. His eyes are darting back and forth from me to the stairs to the street. I want to do the same, to look around and see what my options are but I can’t risk looking away from him. He’s completely unpredictable. Why is there no one on this street?! Usually New York has throngs of people and now it’s deserted??
Greg Chesney looks back at me. His hand is still in his pocket and his eyes get darker.
“I saw you,” he says. His voice passes through my chest and makes my whole body grow colder. “I saw you at the Christmas party. You stole her from me.”
“She came to me,” I say, my hands still up. “She came to me.”
“She would never do that! She’s pure. She’s MINE!”
He lunges towards me, finally pulling his hand out of his pocket. I see a glint of steel as he rushes towards me, just seeing the knife come down on my chest at the last moment. His body collides with mine and I fall backwards. Pain shoots through my chest and I feel the knife press into my flesh like a hot blade through butter.
Greg’s eyes are inches from mine and feel his breath on my face like hot garbage. I try to push him off but I can’t move my arm. Suddenly everything feels heavy and I see a dark puddle growing next to me. It looks black until my eyes adjust a second later.
Blood.
My blood.
The last thing I see is Greg’s arm coming down on my face and sending an explosion of pain through my temple.
Chapter 39 - Harper
My head is splitting. It’s like there’s an ax buried deep in my skull right across my forehead, and the rest of my head is shattered in a million pieces. A groan escapes my lips and I try to open my eyes.
I’m in my own bed.
Any relief I feel quickly evaporates when I try to move. My hands and legs are bound with rope, keeping me spread eagle over my bed. My heart jumps against my ribcage and the panic starts clouding my vision. I struggle against my restraints but I can hardly even move my wrists more than an inch or so across.
Greg Chesney.
I force my eyes open widen even though the dim winter sunlight makes my entire head ache. I glance around the room, whipping my head back and forth to see if here’s here. He must be here, who else would have tied me up like this?! I glance down and feel a small drop of relief when I see I’m still fully clothed. There’s that, at least.
I whimper and then I hear a sound just outside my window. The old window slides up with a loud scrape and Greg’s face peers in through the opening.
“You’re up!” He says cheerily. I don’t answer. The cold breeze hits me and I shiver. He climbs in through the window and closes it behind him. Why is he using the fire escape?
“I didn’t want to disturb you so I went out for some coffee. He produces two steaming mugs, holding them up proudly. “You look so peaceful when you sleep.”
His eyes are wild. He comes closer and I can smell the familiar odour of wet socks and staleness that follows him like a cloud. I try not to shudder.
“Did you have a good snooze?”
His pleasantness is almost more disturbing than if he were menacing right now. I don’t know how to react. His eyes are darting around the room and he takes another step towards me, holding the coffee out. His jacket is stained in the front and on the sleeve, a dark brown patch as if he spilled coffee all over himself.
He gets closer still and I stare at the stain. The edges look almost red. My eyes widen and I look up at his face.
It’s blood. My already wild heart jumps again and my throat starts to close. I can’t breathe. Whose blood is that?! Is it mine? Is it his?? Is it someone else’s?!!
Greg notices my gaze and makes a noise almost like a growl. He puts the coffee down on the bedside table and rips his jacket off.
“What are you looking at?” He barks. He throws the jacket off to the side and it lands with a thud. I can still see it and the bloodstain from where I’m lying. I shift my gaze back to Greg. He’s standing over me with his hands on his hips, as if he’s deciding what he wants to do.
I’m completely powerless. I can’t move and the panic is making it impossible for me to speak. I can hardly even breathe.
“You’re very quiet today, puppet,” he says, taking a seat next to me. His gnarled, dirty finger reaches towards my face and I turn away, squeezing my eyes shut. He strokes the side of my face with his finger, tracing the line of my jaw all the way down my neck. I keep my eyes shut and hold my breath until it’s over.
“You’re shaking! Are you cold?” There’s concern in his voice. I open my eyes and watch as he gets a blanket from the cupboard and throws it over me. “There.”
His hair is sticking up in all directions and his eyes are hazy and u
nfocused. He won’t look at something for more than a second, and his movements are sharp and jittery. He sits down on the bed again.
“Oh! I almost forgot your coffee. Here,” he presents it to me as if he doesn’t realise my arms and legs are bound.
“I.. I can’t,” I finally say, nodding towards my hands.
“Oh of course,” he replies. He leans in towards me and another wave of stench invades my nostrils. His greasy hand cups the back of my head. Is that blood under his fingernails?
He lifts my head almost gently and brings the coffee cup to my lips.
“Careful! It’s hot!” He says with a child-like giggle. I take a sip and nod.
“Thanks,” I respond. He smiles, satisfied, and puts the coffee back on the table. He folds his hand in his lap and looks at me. It looks almost like his smile is plastered on his face but the rest of his features didn’t follow along. It’s like his eyes operate on a completely different circuit than the rest of his face.
“Great. Now, what should we do? Do you want to play cards? I remember you said you were great at Blackjack! Have you got any cards?”
I take a deep breath. “Greg, what’s going on? What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean, puppet? We’re together, finally. This is how it’s meant to be. Everyone else is out of the way and now we can finally be the way we’re supposed to be.”
My blood turns to ice. Everyone else is out of the way?
“Greg, we’re not together. I’m your boss.”
“That didn’t stop you a couple weeks ago, did it!” His head spins towards me and the spittle flies off his lips as he almost shouts the words at me. He leans towards me and my whole body goes rigid. The ropes at my wrists and ankles digs into my skin but I can’t relax my body enough to ease the pain, not when Greg’s face is inches from mine and he’s breathing heavily. His eyes are completely dark.
He knows. He saw us. I knew there was someone. My stomach drops as I realise I should have listened to my instincts. Greg sits up again and his feature rearrange themselves again. He smiles at me.
“That’s ok,” he says, patting my arm. “We’re together now and that’s all that matters. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly.
“Say you agree,” he says.
“I agree.”
Greg nods and gets up, brushing his hands together. “I hope you’re hungry, I’ve been planning our first meal together for over a year! I learned to cook from my grandmother,” he explains. “I’m quite the expert with a knife!”
My eyes shoot back to the jacket on the ground, and the bloodstain down the front. Expert with a knife echoes in my brain over and over and over.
Chapter 40 - Zach
“Sir, you’re at the hospital. You’ve been stabbed but we’re going to stitch you up. Everything is going to be fine.”
There’s a voice near my left ear and it keeps telling me things. You’re going to be ok. I feel like I’m moving and my eyes flutter open. The ceiling is rushing past me. I try to move my head but there’s something around my neck. Thick straps are holding me down to the bed.
“Get him to OR-B, it’s been prepped and the surgeon is ready. What’s his status?”
“Lost a lot of blood. Stabbed about an inch below the heart. If he hadn’t had a magazine in his pocket he wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Lucky.”
“Definitely.”
“Any ID?”
“In his wallet. Zachary Lockwood, 37 years old. No medical details. Called from his cell phone and found him alone on the street.”
Doors swing open and my bed rolls down another white hallway. Stabbed. Lost a lot of blood. I try to process the words as they reach my ears but I can’t make sense of anything. A new voice comes close to my ear again, a woman.
“Zachary, we’re going to operate on your chest. We need to sew you back up and get you healthy again, ok? You’re going to be fine.”
Why do they keep telling me I’ll be fine? Lights are flashing by on the ceiling as the bed rolls forward. I try to speak but all that comes out is a gurgled groan. There’s something in my mouth. Harper! I need to tell them about Harper! She’s in danger!
“Don’t speak, Zachary. You’ve been intubated. We’re going to fix you right up in no time.”
I’m wheeled into a room and I see multiple bodies around my bed. They count together and suddenly I’m lifted onto a hard surface. More voices, more movement. I try to catch their attention. I need to tell them about Harper! There’s no time. They’re telling me something and then I feel like the blood in my arm has turned to ice. The cold feeling travels up my arm and then I’m asleep.
“I think he’s waking up,” a low voice says. I open my eyes and squint. I try to move my head but everything hurts. My throat is on fire. My vision clears and I see a familiar face next to the bed.
“Mitch?”
“Hey, buddy. You gave us quite the scare. How are you feeling?”
“Horrible. Where am I?”
“You’re at the hospital. You were stabbed. What happened?”
I groan. One by one, the memories start coming back to me. Harper’s apartment. The blood spreading around me. The feeling of the knife sinking into my chest. Greg Chesney’s face just inches away from mine.
“I was stabbed,” I explain. Harper! My pulse jumps up.
Mitch chuckles. “Yeah, we gathered that. I mean what happened that led to you getting stabbed? Why were you over there anyways, that’s nowhere near your apartment.”
There’s a noise to my right and I turn my head slowly. Two police officers come into the room in full uniform.
“Mr Lockwood,” the burly man in front says. He’s clearly in charge. “My name is Officer Benson. This is Officer Green.” He nods to his partner. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I nod. Even that slight movement makes the pain shoot down my spine.
“Do you know the person who stabbed you?”
“Greg,” I try to speak but my throat is too hoarse. “Greg Chesney. You need to get him. He’s dangerous!”
The officer jots down the name. “And who is Greg Chesney? How do you know him?”
“He works for me. Used to work for me.”
“What were you doing when he stabbed you?”
“Trying to go see my girlfriend.” The word comes naturally. I hear Mitch make a noise but I ignore him. She’s my girlfriend, and she’s in trouble. “He’s obsessed with her. He was stalking her last year and nobody ever did anything to it. He threatened me and then stabbed me. You need to find him. She’s in trouble. He said she was in her apartment in bed but I couldn’t get in. That’s when he stabbed me. You need to go! There’s no time!”
“Ok, sir, calm down,” Officer Benson says in a stern voice. “Can you describe Greg Chesney for us?”
I give them the best description I can and tell them what happened. They nod and write things down.
“Ok, thank you. If you remember anything else just call this number.” He leaves a card on the table next to me. They turn to leave and I make a noise.
“Officer?”
He turns to look at me, waiting for me to speak.
“She’s pregnant.” I say. “Harper is pregnant. Please find her.” The two officers exchange a glance and then look at me.
“We’ll find her,” he says with certainty before turning around and leaving.
I lie back in bed and close my eyes. Mitch clears his throat.
“So… were you ever going to tell me that you and Harper were.. together. And that you knocked her up?!”
“Just shut up, Mitch, please,” I say without opening my eyes. “It’s been a rough couple days.”
He says nothing and I open my eyes to look at him. His eyes are wide and he’s staring at me in disbelief. I try to grin but my face won’t let me.
“You’re looking at me like I’m from outer space,�
� I croak.
“You might be,” he replies with a laugh. “What the fuck, man! I don’t even know you.”
“I don’t know, Mitch. It’s been a crazy couple weeks. There’s something about her.” I try to sit up and wince as the pain shoots through my chest. “I’ve never met a woman like her before. They have to find her. I have to find her!”
“You’re going nowhere,” Mitch says sternly. “If I have to sit here and babysit you I will. Let the police do their job.”
“Mitch, you don’t understand. She thinks I hate her. She thinks I don’t want the baby. I have to find her and make it right.”
“They’ll find her, and you can tell her that yourself when they do. Zach, look at yourself,” Mitch says. “You look like hell, and you’ve got tubes sticking out all over the place. You can barely move without wincing. Let the police do their job. You just got fucking stabbed in the heart!”
I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. He’s right, I can hardly move. As much as I hate it, I won’t be able to get out of this bed. My heart has been through a lot these past couple days. I try to relax but all I can think of is Harper. They need to find her. She needs to be safe.
Mitch puts a hand on my arm as if he can sense my panic. “It’ll be ok,” he says in a low voice. “It’ll be ok.”
Chapter 41 - Harper
“I just have one more thing to take care of, and then we can be together forever, puppet.” Greg is putting on his jacket and heading for the fire escape. “You just sit tight, I’ll be right back.”
“What are you going to take care of?” I ask.
“Rosie.”
Before I can respond, he’s out the window and slams it shut. The noise of the window coming down on the frame vibrates through my chest and I yell in panic. Greg looks at me through the closed window and grins before spinning around and disappearing down the fire escape.
His face stays etched in my vision, the toothy smile of a madman staring at me through the window. My breath is shallow.
Rosie.
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