Repeat(70)

I roll away from her, as best I can, not sure if her next move will be to finish off me or the dog. My hands cover the wound, blood seeping up and over my fingers. God, there’s so much of it. And all the while, darkness edges in, taking my vision, my body, everything. No repeat this time. No second chances.

“Gordy,” I say, voice weak. “Go. Run.”

Then Gordy makes a noise I’d never hoped to hear. A whimpered sort of howl. But past this, there’s suddenly yelling. Voices. I can’t tell who. Someone is screaming. An enraged, demented, inhuman sort of sound.

Hands cover my own and he says, “Baby. Stay with me.”

If this is the last thing, I ever hear, I’m stupidly okay with it. Love. It makes fools of us all.




Three days later . . .




I wake up slowly, the white ceiling swimming into focus. It’s the smell, however, that clues me in as to where I am. The sharp, chemical, clinical smell and beeping of machines. Blergh. Back in the fucking hospital. Again. From top to toe, my body feels floaty, distant. Apart from the stretch and pull of the bandages and stitches on my stomach when I move. Not so great.

Then I remember. “Gordy!”

Shuffling noises off to the side as Ed bolts upright in his chair. Guess he too had been sleeping. Soon enough, he’s leaning over me, brushing back my hair. “Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay. Calm down, everything’s fine. Gordy’s at home safe and well. He’s just got a couple of stitches in his face, remember? I told you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, you’ve woken up a couple of times before, but you were pretty groggy then too.” His smile is small and tired, but the relief in his eyes is real. “It’s okay. You lost a lot of blood and they’ve got you on the good stuff so you don’t feel any pain.”

“Oh.” God, my voice sounds so weak and pathetic. “I hate hospitals.”

“I know. Here, have some water. Just sip it, not too much.” He holds a cup of water with a bent straw up to my lips. My throat is grossly dry and scratchy. Meanwhile, Ed’s clothes are rumpled, dark shadows linger beneath his eyes, and he’s heading into beginner’s beard territory. He looks worn out, like he’s been sleeping here for days. “But the doctor said you’re recovering really well. And look at all the flowers you got.”

The man speaks the truth. Every available surface is covered in blooms. I must have a lot of friends these days, people who care about me. What a fuzzy nice warm feeling.

“Got to say, though, every time you wake up, you say Gordy’s name first,” he mutters. “Pretty sure you’re just keeping me around because of my dog. You’re not doing my confidence any good here, Clem.”

I snort. Shit. It kind of hurts. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry.” His gaze lightens. “Frances will be back later; she’s just handling some work stuff. Leif and Tessa and Iris have all been in, though they’re still limiting your visitors at the moment. Can you believe they tried to get me to leave the first day? I told them straight out that wasn’t happening.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He just smiles.

“They got Shannon?” It’s all coming back now. The blood, the sheer fucking craziness. “I can’t believe she stabbed me. What a psycho bitch.”

His eyes go wide. “They got her all right. Well, Leif did.”

“Leif?”

“My brother saved the day.” Ed smiles. “When we got out the apartment doors, I went straight to you, didn’t have eyes for anything else. But Leif saw someone running off onto the street. Well, limping quickly, ’cause Gordy got her good, even through her jeans. She made it about a hundred feet before he crash-tackled her to the ground. Fortunately, she’d already tossed the knife away into some bushes. So he was able to hold on to her until the cops showed up, with just a bunch of face-scratching to show for it.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t get my head around it. All of it. “So Shannon’s in jail? Arrested? Charged?”

“Aggravated assault, attempted murder, all sorts of things. Detective Chen said they’re still settling on the exact list. But she isn’t going to be seeing the outside of a cell for a very long time.”

“Good.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Never even fucking suspected it could have been someone that close to us.”

“Not your fault. It never occurred to me either. What’s the damage to me?”

“One broken rib and one fractured from her kicking you, internal injuries from the stab wound which they operated on, and a cut on your hand from fighting off the knife.”

“No wonder I feel vaguely all over like shit.”

“You want me to call a nurse?”

“No, just stay with me.” I shake my head ever so slightly. My poor body. Maybe never moving again would be best. It’s weird; my head feels heavy and insubstantial at the same time. Like I might sleep for a hundred years. And as much as I like looking at Ed, my eyelids drift closed. “Is that okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I love you, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up again.”