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A loud, thunderous shout from behind me cut him off and I turned, seeing Henry with the knife I’d been holding in the kitchen in his hands.
Knox’s eyes told me that he was quickly putting the pieces together and he shoved me to the side like I was a rag doll, putting himself between me and Henry.
“You,” Henry seethed and slashed the knife through the air. “You ruined it. You fucking stole what’s mine.”
Sirens blared in the distance. Relief danced through me and I shook my head, forcing myself to try and stay focused. “I wish it wasn’t you,” I said honestly, my voice shaking.
Henry moved forward quickly, making a beeline for me. But Knox was quicker and stepped in the way, making a swift move and turning so Henry was facing the opposite direction. In a move so quick I didn’t even have time to blink, Knox had an arm wrapped around Henry’s throat, yanking him backwards with a grunt. Henry looked shocked as he toppled backwards, losing his balance as he swung his arms out. The knife arced through the air and Knox ducked, both of them toppling to the ground. They struggled, Knox on top first and landing a hard blow to my stalker’s nose. Blood flowed shortly after and Henry, who had height and weight on my boyfriend, ripped him to the side and punched him square in the jaw, sending blood across the hardwood floor as it flew from Knox’s mouth.
I was frozen for what felt like forever. Watching them both struggle and land hard punches to the other. I watched in terror as Henry grabbed Knox’s face between his hands and, in one swift move, bounced the back of his head against the floor with a sickening thud. Knox lay there, unmoving.
I don’t remember moving forward.
I don’t remember picking up the knife.
I don’t remember a thing, but one minute I was standing still and the next I was next to Henry, gripping the knife in my hand and holding it poised centimeters away from his Adam’s apple. Adrenaline ran through my veins and I was shaking like a fiend. He froze, his cold, dead eyes looking up at me.
“It’s over,” I said with conviction, leaving no room for argument. Red and blue lights flooded the house as the police pulled up, the front door swinging open. Voi
ces yelled and flashlights shine, finally landing on the war that occurred in the living room. “You lost at your own sick game.”
Officers yelled and moved forward and I saw Detective Kendrick push past all of them, his gun raised. When his eyes spotted me he nodded towards the knife that was still poised in my hand. Everything felt like slow motion as I slowly backed up, dropped the knife and collapsed to the ground as officers rushed in and quickly cuffed him.
Henry Van Sant was no longer a threat to me. Just like that, it was over.
As soon as they pulled him off Knox I was there, gripping his face in my hands and crying, begging every higher power to let him be okay.
“Please,” I begged, crying. “Please wake up. Knox!” I shouted as Kendrick pulled me away. My heart was breaking into a million pieces and I fought Kendrick every step of the way, thrashing against him as he gripped me by my shirt collar and dragged me across the floor.. “Knox, wake up! Please, please I need you. I need you to wake up for me.”
The EMTs started in on him, feeling for a pulse and finding one. He was unconscious, unmoving as I sat there, praying and hoping that he would wake up. “Don’t leave me,” I sobbed. “Baby, please wake up.”
I didn’t see his eyelids flutter and he didn’t gasp and wake up like in the movies. Instead, his fingers curled into his palm. If his arm hadn’t been outstretched I wouldn’t have seen it. But I did. I watched his fingers curl and then flex a few times before stopping again. Then his arm twitched and his nostrils flared and he groaned, trying to move.
“Stay still, buddy,” one of the EMTs said and put a hand on his chest. “Just take a deep breath. Can you tell me your name?”
His lips moved but it didn’t sound like any noise came out. The man repeated his question and Knox’s mouth opened. “Where’s Abby?”
“I’m here,” I cried, relief flooding me. That voice, his voice had me crying nearly uncontrollably. “I’m right here. I’m okay. We did it.”
Knox’s lips curved into a smile and his eyes opened slowly. He was unfocused and disoriented but he was awake. “I love you,” he said quietly.
“I love you so much,” I said just as softly, finally feeling that things were going to get better. No more fear and no more looking over my shoulder.
It was finally over.
Chapter 21
One week later…
“This whole concussion thing blows,” Knox said into the phone.
I laughed from the kitchen before grabbing the box of pizza and paper towels and walking into his room. He sat with his his back resting against the black headboard, his phone pressed to his ear and a scowl on his face before his eyes landed on me. His features softened and he smiled.
It had been a week since the big showdown at Robbie’s and Knox’s fourth day home from the hospital. He had a pretty severe concussion that kept him at Mass General for three nights where all he did was raise hell and demand to be discharged. Now he was home with strict instructions not to do anything strenuous, which meant he couldn’t work or work out until he got the okay from his doctor. We also couldn’t have sex for the time being because that fell under the “strenuous” category. To say he was moody was an understatement.
It was scary, so scary watching the EMTs transfer Knox to a stretcher and then into the ambulance. He was barely moving and his head was pounding. I could see the excruciating pain written all over his face and ached to take it away.
But it was over this time. For good. Henry Van Sant was shipped off to Plymouth County until they could send him up to Framingham. I hadn’t seen him or heard from him and it was both peaceful and not. Knox hadn’t been right when he said I didn’t want to get over it, but now that it was actually over, it all felt strange. Like there’d been a pause button on my life and suddenly I hit play and everything picked back up. But I slept better at night knowing that I was finally safe.
