Always You
Page 42

As I got to the door I saw Blake on the floor, Clay was on top of him straddling him, his face murderously angry as he punched Blake over and over. Oh God he's going to get into trouble this time!
"Clay!" I screamed trying to stop him before he went too far, he was showing no signs of stopping at all and I was actually a little scared for Blake. Maybe Clay didn't realize he was sick, maybe he just thought he was trying to hurt me, or maybe he just didn't care either way.
Clay looked up at me quickly, his eyes wide as his body seemed to relax slightly. I smiled weakly at him, he had never looked so beautiful to me, he looked like an avenging angel or something. The fury that was on his face softened as he looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile. I felt my panic start to recede as I looked at him; Clay was here so I knew everything was going to be fine. Everything was always fine when he was near me, my world just that little bit more complete.
Suddenly Clay was thrown back slamming against the wall; Blake pushed himself up obviously taking advantage of Clay's distraction. I screamed again as Clay's head hit the wall hard, his eyes squeezing shut as he hissed through his teeth. Oh god he was hurt! My heart was trying to break out of my chest, I couldn't see him hurt, I just couldn't. I tried to run forwards towards him, but Blake was on his feet blocking my way.
"You little $hit Preston! What the hell are you doing here? Just get the hell out, she doesn't want you near her anymore!" Blake shouted as he grabbed the front of Clay's shirt and yanked him to his feet roughly, slamming him against the wall again.
I gripped Blake's arm tightly trying to get his attention so he wouldn't hit Clay. He turned to look at me, a sneer on his face. He looked so hateful that it scared the life out of me, he didn't just want to hurt Clay, he wanted to kill him, I could see it in his eyes. He really had lost it and somehow had pushed the blame for everything that was wrong in his life, onto Clay.
"Please don't," I begged as uncontrollable tears rolled down my face.
He almost growled in anger as he shook his head, he didn't say anything. He brought his arm up and slapped me hard across the face. Pain exploded in my head, making my eyes get watery as I stumbled against the wall feeling a little dizzy.
I didn't see what happened next as my eyes were a little blurry, but something knocked me to the floor. A loud crash and sounds of breaking wood came from my right. I pushed myself up on my hands and knees and looked in the direction of the crash.
Clay had obviously gotten over the initial shock of the bang to the head and he and Blake were now rolling around the floor fighting. It was horrifying to watch, not like when you see a fight on TV or anything, this was scary and I could hear the sounds of the blows, each one seemed to echo through my head making me feel sick.
Blake shoved him off of him and pushed himself up to his feet, he looked a little unsteady as blood dripped from his nose and a cut under his eye. Clay jumped up and rammed into him, throwing them both over the top of the kitchen counter scattering the cooking food and plates all over the floor as they just continued to fight.
"Stop it!" I screamed as I crawled into the kitchen. I couldn't bear the thought of Clay getting hurt and although he definitely looked like he was winning I hated it and he was breaking my heart a little. I needed to get him out of here and wrap my arms around his waist and sob onto his shoulder.
They didn't pay one bit of attention to me as they shouted at each other, reining blow after blow down onto each others faces and bodies. Suddenly the door slammed against the wall behind me and I heard feet running up the hallway.
I barely had time to look round before three people ran past me into the kitchen and someone else grabbed me around the waist pulling me up to my feet. I looked up at the guy holding me, he smiled reassuringly and I noticed his uniform. I felt my body relax as I realized the police were here, it was over. They would look in Blake's room and see that he needed help; they would take him somewhere and give him the attention he needed.
"Are you ok Miss?" the guy asked.
I nodded and leant on him heavily as my legs threatened to give out on me. I looked back to see the three officers that had run into the kitchen had stopped, and were looking at Blake and Clay who were still fighting on the floor.
"Stop immediately and stand up! Face the wall and put your hands on the back of your head!" one of them commanded.
Oh god Clay's going to get into trouble! But it wouldn't be that bad, would it? They would take into consideration that Blake already had the restraining order out against him, they would know that Clay was coming here to protect me, wouldn't they? Surely the most he would get would be a slap on the wrist for this, none of this was his fault and they had to take that into consideration. I hoped so anyway.
They stopped struggling, Clay was on top of Blake pinning him to the floor. He looked up at the police officers who were both pointing what looked like Taser guns or something at them. Clay nodded and let go of Blake, climbing to his feet slowly.
I looked at every inch of his face, he didn't look too bad, his lip had split and his jaw had a big red patch on it that was probably going to bruise. Other than that though he looked his perfect beautiful self and I felt the fear and panic start to recede. I relaxed against the officer who was still supporting a lot of my weight and couldn't help but smile sadly. Maybe something good had come out of this after all; Blake was finally going the help that he desperately needed.
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.
Chapter 27
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!