Always You (41 page)

Clay moved over to the wall and did as he was told, spreading his legs and putting his hands on the back of his head. Blake pushed himself up from the floor, he definitely looked worse than Clay, my boy was definitely a badass. He looked at me and frowned before shaking his head and bending down quickly, grabbing something from the floor.

I saw the officer closest to him move and step forward as he shouted "Knife!"

Knife? What the hell?

Blake turned quickly, I just had time to see a flash of the blade that I had hidden under the cloth on the counter. "NO!" I screamed as I thrashed to get out of the officers hold. There was no indecision on Blake's face, he looked so angry, so hard and like a completely different person from the one I had met only a short time ago at the football game.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow-motion as Blake stepped towards Clay and shoved the knife in to the side of his chest. It felt like my world stopped spinning, I couldn't breathe and the panic started to take over.

I could hear the officers shouting for Blake to drop the knife, but it seemed like they were so far away from me, like I was listening to them from underwater or something.

All my brain could register was how Clay flinched and seemed to crumple slightly as he slumped against the wall. Blake leant against him heavily and I saw him pull his arm back again, making Clay yelp in pain as he pulled the knife back out of his side.

Blake stepped back slightly grabbing the top of Clay's hair, yanking his head back as he threw his other arm forward again and shoved the knife deep into Clay's lower back.

I was vaguely aware that the guy that was holding me up was shouting orders and shoved me against the wall, putting his body in front of mine, that there was a loud bang and then the cops all rushed forward. That they grabbed Blake, almost throwing him to the floor as they all literally jumped on him, pinning him down as he thrashed and tried to get up screaming like a crazy person.

None of that properly registered in my brain. The only thing that registered was that my husband was slowly sliding down the wall, his face a picture of pain. I felt my heart breaking and I couldn’t move, I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t even breathe. My whole world was shattering around me; all my hopes and dreams were slowly fading into insignificance. All of the plans we had made were slowly disappearing with every inch that he sank towards the cold tiled floor.

My whole body felt numb, my legs felt like jelly and were threatening to give out on me at any second and I still hadn’t taken a breath. Everything was still happening in slow motion. Clay was still falling to the floor and I could do nothing to help him. I couldn’t take it back, I couldn’t rewind time and make that knife pierce my skin instead, I couldn’t save him from the look of pain that was etched across his face. I was useless, a stupid useless girl and this was entirely my fault.

Blake had hurt Clay because of me, he had stabbed him because of me, even the knife he used was because I had left it on the side when we were cooking. Everything was my fault. I couldn’t be more to blame unless I had pushed the knife into him myself. I had killed my husband, my best friend, the love of my life; he was dead because of me and would have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life. I didn’t even want to think about living now that I would be without Clay, how could I? He was everything good that was in my life, my whole life since I had met him had been centered around him, and now he was gone. How could I live like that? I knew the answer to that question, I couldn’t.

Clay hit the floor with a thump that seemed to turn my blood to ice in my veins; I could feel my hands shaking. He was gone. I was alone. I’d lost him.

Suddenly his arm twitched and he groaned. My heart jumped in my chest as my eyes widened in shock, he wasn’t dead? I swallowed the sob that was trying to break free and shoved myself away from the wall, but the cop just pushed me back pinning me there. What the hell is he doing?

“Let me go! He’s hurt; I need to go to him!” I screamed, thrashing against him, trying to get myself out of the little cage he seemed to have made against the wall.

He shook his head, “Just wait until he has the cuffs on,” he ordered sternly.

Cuffs
, what the hell? I wasn’t waiting for Blake to have the cuffs on; I needed to go to Clay! He groaned again and I felt hope bubbling up inside, please please please let him be ok, please I’ll do anything, anything in the world, please.

“Get off me! Let me go!” I screamed as I tried to duck under his arm.

He easily restrained me, he was so freaking strong but if he didn’t let me go I was going to knee him where the sun didn’t shine, there was no way he was keeping me away from Clay. He looked over his shoulder and I flicked my eyes in the direction of Blake. The two cops were still trying to restrain him as he shouted that it wasn’t his fault, that Clay deserved it, that he had broken in here and attacked him and he was acting in self-defense. I heard the snap of cuffs and they yanked him to his feet shoving him face first into the wall, making him hiss in pain.

“He’s secure,” one of the cops shouted. He moved Blake slightly and I saw a streak of blood on the wall near his leg. Was that his blood? Had they shot him? I thought those were Taser guns that they were holding, not real ones. If they had guns why could they have not shot him before he stabbed him? They could have stopped him before he hurt Clay! 

I looked back at the guy holding me, glaring angrily. “Now you can let me go! I need to see Clay!” I cried desperately.

He nodded and let go of me, for a second I swayed on my feet and I wasn’t even sure I could stand on my own. He grabbed my arm to steady me but all I could think about was Clay. I threw off his hold and ran across the room, almost falling down at his side. He was gasping, sucking in small little ragged breaths. His eyes were squeezed shut; there was blood all over his shirt, soaking into the white material making him look like something out of a horror movie.

I bent my face down to his, brushing his hair back as I thought desperately of what I should do. Should I apply pressure or would that make it worse? Should I roll him onto his back or would that make it even harder for him to breathe?

“Clay? Baby, can you hear me? I’m here; you’re going to be ok. Oh God please be ok,” I whispered as I brushed his hair off of his forehead.

He groaned and I saw his eyes flicker, it seemed like he was trying to open them. I could feel the grief and horror of the situation washing over me but I refused to let it. I needed to be strong for him, he needed me and I wasn’t going to succumb to the sadness, at least not in front of him. He needed to believe everything was going to be fine even though the dark stain on his shirt was getting bigger and bigger by the second as he lost more blood. I looked up at the cops; two of them were leading a limping Blake out of the room, practically dragging him along as he carried on screaming that he’d done nothing wrong.

Anger was burning inside me making my stomach shake and I could almost taste the hatred in my mouth. I wanted to grab the knife that was in the middle of the kitchen and cut him into little pieces, but I needed to stay with Clay, I couldn’t leave him, the police would lock Blake up and throw away the key for this. All of the sympathy and pity that I had built up for him since I arrived at his house was gone now; all I was left with was raw hatred.

I looked back at the cop who had been holding me; he was talking quickly into his walkie talkie as he made his way over to where Clay and I were on the floor. “Please help him,” I begged as I squeezed Clay’s hand.

The cop nodded, “We will, the ambulance is on its way.” he said as he gripped Clay’s shirt and lifted it. I winced, unsure as to whether I could look and see the wound on his body, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes in check. They wandered down there of their own accord and what I saw made my heart break even more. I swallowed loudly and forced my face to remain emotionless, I couldn’t break down, I needed to be strong. There was a deep, ragged gash on the middle of his lower back, just above the waistband of his jeans. Blood was flowing freely from it, and was pooling in the curve of his back.

“Get me a cloth or something,” the cop ordered, nodding his head towards the kitchen cupboards.

I dragged my eyes away from the most horrifying and heartbreaking thing I had ever seen in my life, I pushed myself off of the floor, running over and pulling open every single drawer until I found the ones with the towels in. I grabbed a handful of them and ran back to Clay as fast as I could. The cop was looking at Clay’s side now; he took the towels and pressed one against the wound on his back as he clenched his jaw looking slightly worried. I looked at him pleadingly; please don’t let Clay die, please!

I looked back at Clay as his breathing became even shallower and more ragged. His face was relaxed, like he was sleeping, peaceful and perfect, apart from the slight red tinge to his jaw from fighting with Blake. I kissed his nose lightly, “I love you baby, you’ll be fine I promise. Tomorrow I’m going to make you chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, I’ll even burn them slightly just the way you like,” I whispered, smiling sadly as I squeezed his hand again.

I could hear the cop talking to one of the others, something about a punctured lung and how he needed a chest tube quickly before he went into cardiac arrest, he sounded slightly panicked as he asked how long the ambulance was going to be. The other guy was helping him work on Clay but I couldn’t take my eyes off of his peaceful face. I traced my finger along the bridge of his nose, the curve to his lip, his cheekbone.

After what felt like just a few seconds someone grabbed me and pulled me away from Clay. I gripped his hand tighter as I thrashed trying to get back to him, I didn’t want to leave his side, not for a single second incase he woke up.

“Ma’am, the medics are here, you need to move and let them do their job!” Someone said sternly in my ear.

I looked around and noticed that there was indeed two new guys in blue uniforms. They immediately started fussing over Clay, I tried to block out what they were saying, I didn’t want to hear that because it would make me lose the slight control I had over myself. I just focused on Clay’s face as they cut his shirt off of him, prodding at his body, I whimpered when I saw one of them grab a scalpel and a little piece of tubing, heading towards Clay’s already bloody chest with it.

After the longest most painful time of my life, they finally agreed that he could be moved. Apparently the tube that they had inserted had worked and was helping him breathe, his heart rate was strong. One of them said the most beautiful word I had ever heard in my life, the best word that had ever been invented in the history of the world: stable.

I felt my body relax, I laughed quietly to myself and looked at the ceiling repeating the words
thank you
over and over in my head. But the medics still looked really worried, an intense concentration on their faces as they discussed how best to move him without causing any more damage. One of them ran off and came back with a spinal board and neck brace. I frowned, not really understanding what was going on. They’d said he was stable, so why would they still be looking so tense about it?

The cop that was holding me turned me around to face him, “Ma’am, is there someone I should call? His parents? Yours?” he asked looking at me sympathetically. I looked back over my shoulder as they rolled Clay onto the yellow board strapping him in with little black straps. Why were they being so careful? “Ma’am?” I felt pressure on my arm and I looked back at the cop, he seemed to be waiting for me to answer something.

“Is he going to be ok? They said he was stable, that means that he’s ok, right?” I whispered.

He smiled sadly, “They’re doing everything they can, they’ll know more once he gets to the hospital. But if you could just tell me if there is someone I should call….” He trailed off looking at me expectantly.

I guess Clay’s parents should be told; I smiled at him gratefully and reached into my pocket pulling out my cell phone. I was barely holding on to my sanity and if I had to tell them what happened I think I would lose it and I couldn’t do that. I held the phone out to him, “Clay’s parents cell phones are in there under Linda and Richard. My parents are in there under mom and Brian.” I muttered looking back to the medics as they put the last couple of straps on Clay’s lifeless body.

“Ok, I’ll call them and tell them what happened and tell them to come to the hospital and meet you. Are you going in the ambulance or do you need a ride?” he asked watching as they lifted the stretcher off of the floor.

I quickly stepped forward keeping pace with them, not wanting Clay out of my sight for a second. “Can I come with you?” I begged the medic.

He smiled and nodded, “Sure Ma’am.”

I trailed along next to Clay, sitting in the little seat opposite him in the ambulance, trying to stay out of the way while the medic inserted needles into the back of his hand, attaching some clear fluid to the IV. I just sat there emotionless, I didn’t know what to do, what to think, what to say, so I did nothing. I thought nothing. I just refused to acknowledge how bad this situation was, refused to acknowledge how the medic’s forehead was creased and how his movements were a little tense. Clay would be fine; he wouldn’t leave me on my own.

When we got to the hospital, Clay was rushed in with about five people all fussing over him as they sped him through the hallways and into one of the emergency rooms. I pushed the door open wanting to go in with him, but a nurse put her arm around my shoulder smiling sympathetically at me. I wanted to scream at her to stop smiling like that, everyone was being so sad and worried, so sympathetic and apologetic, it was scary. I didn’t want to think about what could happen, all I would let myself think was that Clay would be fine and tomorrow I would apologize over and over for this happening, and he would kiss my nose and tell me that it wasn’t my fault and that he loved me. That was all I would let myself think about for now because the thoughts I had at the back of my brain were actually too horrifying to acknowledge.