When I dare to open my eyes, I see my brother lying on the floor, staring back at me, a single bullet wound in the centre of his head and a trickle of blood dripping onto the ground. A sob breaks out of me, and I’m not sure if it’s the shock of seeing Shane dead, or the relief of knowing he can no longer hurt me.
The officers rush in and go straight for Shane and Dean. I scramble to my feet and run to Teddy. My fingers are already in the knots of the ropes before the officers shout at me to get away from him.
“He’s been stabbed!” I yell as the rope around his thighs drops to the ground. When I start on the rope around his chest, an officer rushes over and holds Teddy up. The second rope comes loose, and the officer lowers him onto his back. I drop to my knees by Teddy’s side as the officer checks his pulse. He shakes his head and speaks into his radio: “Dispatch, this is PC Rivers, four nine zero three one. We have threepeople unresponsive and not breathing. Requesting ambulance urgently. Commencing CPR on one person.”
Threenot breathing? I look frantically from the officer to Teddy—his chest is too still.
I was too late …
It feels like vines have sprung from the ground and wrapped themselves around my legs, pinning me to the spot. I can’t move—I can barely breathe. The officer leans over, putting his ear to Teddy’s mouth. “You need to put pressure on the leg wound,” he says, snapping me out of my daze.
“W-what?”
The man kneels, placing his clasped hands over Teddy's chest, pushing down in rapid movements. It’s suddenly all too real—he’s not breathing. I stare at Teddy’s face, waiting for some sign, a flicker of his eyelids or something, but there’s nothing. “Hey!” the officer shouts at me, making me jump. “In my kit, there’s a bandage. Press it to the wound. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes, okay?”
I stare at the first aid kit sitting between us, frozen.
“Now!”
I flinch, ripping open the bag and grabbing a wad of bandages, pushing them against the wound. I lean on his leg, holding it steady as his body rocks from the CPR. PC Rivers tilts Teddy's head back, breathing into his mouth twice before carrying on with chest compressions. His arms strain, and sweat builds on his temples, brows furrowed as he tries to bring him back. I’m a mess of tears, with a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow. I want to ask where the ambulance is—whether Teddy is going to be okay. My voice is free, but I’m terrified of the answers, so I stay silent.
After what feels like an eternity, a hand touches my shoulder. A woman in green asks me to move aside, but I shake my head.If I’m still putting pressure on his wound, that means he’s still bleeding, and if he’s still bleeding, then he’s still alive.
“Sir, you need to move aside so we can get him into the ambulance,” she says, voice calm and steady, hand never leaving my shoulder. Another hand grabs under my arm and gently pulls me to my feet. It’s like I’m outside of my own body, looking at everything from above. One of the paramedics straps something to Teddy’s thigh as another pushes their fingers to his throat.
“There’s a pulse, let’s go.”
He’s lifted onto a stretcher, and rushed out of the building. I follow on their heels, not letting him out of my sight. Everything’s happening so fast. I can’t focus on anything but getting into the ambulance with Teddy. Even when I hear someone calling my name, I don’t look away. The officer who helped Teddy talks to the paramedics, pointing at me, then at the ambulance. He comes over and tells me it’s okay to get in the back, and that he’ll sit up front. I didn’t need permission. They would have to drag me out if I wasn’t allowed.
During the journey, I’m frantically trying to keep myself calm for him. But when the paramedics start rushing around, shouting things to one another, my heart thumps in my chest. I can’t focus enough to understand what’s happening. I take a deep, shuddering breath. “You need to wake up, Teddy. Okay?” I sniff and wipe my face with one hand while I touch his hair with the other. “You said you wouldn’t leave me again.” Leaning forward in my seat, I sweep his curls from his forehead, blocking out everything else. “You’re not allowed to,” I choke out. “I only just found you again.”
Fuck, my chest hurts so much, I can’t take proper breaths. My eyes flick to the paramedics; they’re injecting something into the drip by Teddy’s side, and one of them starts chest compressions again. I struggle to swallow as my heart drops outof my stomach. “Come on, Teddy.” My voice cracks. “Please,I need you!”
BAILEY
“He’s exactlywhere he should be,” Officer Rivers tells me as he hands me a coffee. I take it on autopilot, feeling numb. Teddy’s family haven’t arrived yet, and I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the waiting room.
I’ve been poked and prodded by half the hospital staff while Teddy was whisked off somewhere. PC Rivers has barely left my side, other than to get me coffee and a change of clothes—not that they’ve stopped me from shaking. He keeps talking to me, but it’s just noise. The image of my brother staring back at me with blank eyes is still fresh in my mind—I can’t shake it. I should be feeling sorrow or grief, but there’s nothing. The hole in my chest is strictly reserved for the man I love. The only thing keeping me from breaking right now is knowing that Teddy was breathing again by the time we got here. My hand shakes, spilling coffee down my leg.
PC Rivers takes the coffee from me. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I know that’s not reassuring or what you want to hear right now …”
I nod, swallowing, finally taking my eyes off the corridor as I look over at the man. “Why are you still here?” I ask.
He shifts a little in his seat, averting his eyes. He looks young, and I wonder if it’s the first time he’s had to deal with something like this. “We require a witness statement if and when you’re ready. I need to assess whether there are any further risks to yourself or Mr MacLeod.”
“You don’t …” I look at the floor, prickles spreading across the back of my neck. “You don’t think I’m responsible?”
“Ah, no. You had blood all over you and rope burns; the all clear was given once your brother was down. I can’t say much, but it’s public knowledge now that he was wanted on suspicion of numerous murders and arson in England,” he says hesitantly.
I lean back and look up at the ceiling, blinking the tears from my eyes. “I know about my parents, and—and the others. He told me what he did before you turned up.”
PC Rivers nods and passes my coffee back. I take it with a sturdier hand and sip the bitter liquid.
“Would you like me to take a statement now, while we wait? If you’re feeling up to it, you can just tell me what happened tonight—how you ended up in that shed with your brother and … friend?”
I scowl at him. “Boyfriend.”
“Right, I didn’t want to presume,” he coughs and pulls out a little notepad.
