Caught by Her Page 20

  “Lena!” Maddie’s voice pulled me back to the present. I made eye contact for a second before answering the call, tentatively lifting the phone to my ear.

  The moment I heard the voice on the line I closed my eyes, scrunching them tightly and shaking my head. I gripped my phone tightly as I listened to the words that were being spoken to me despite not hearing a single one.

  Fear began to suffocate me, a loud ringing in my head blocking out the words that were being spoken into the phone but refused to be heard by me.

  Maddie immediately sat up straighter. I could feel her looking at me, but everything was swimming around me. I felt dizzy, faint and sick all at the same time. The voice continued to call my name, but her words had rendered me dumb.

  Maddie leaned over and took the phone from my hand. I heard her speaking but it was as if I’d fallen down into a dark, black abyss. There was nothing, only fear clawing at my body: a sense of desperation that had stolen the oxygen from the room.

  I felt her rubbing my arm and tried to turn my head to look at her, feeling as if everything around me was happening in slow motion.

  Her face was close to mine. I could see the concern and fear in her eyes. “Lena, we need to get to the hospital. Did you hear what Kelly said? I’ll drive your car and come back for mine tomorrow. C’mon! We have to go now.”

  I stared at her, I needed to move but I couldn’t. Nothing worked: my limbs were heavy, frozen, stiff with fear and dread.

  “I can’t…I ca…” My breathing was getting shallower as I struggled to think, to be able to speak. “I was with him this morning!” I blurted. I pressed my hands together in front of me to stop them shaking, and she reached over and caught them between hers.

  “Lena,” - her voice was firm - “we have to go now.” She pulled me into a standing position. I didn’t even know if my legs would hold my weight. She linked her arm through mine and walked swiftly to the front door.

  “Do you need anything?” she asked and I shook my head.

  I needed Nate.

  He was all I’d ever need.

  I couldn’t think straight – he’d been was with me that morning. It wasn’t making sense.

  She didn’t give me time to think, dragging me with her out of the house and to her car. She opened the passenger door and put me into the car, ran around the other side and jumped in. She reached over me and buckled me in then fastened her own seatbelt and started the car.

  The drive to the hospital was a blur. Maddie didn’t speak but reached across every few minutes to rub my thigh or give my hand a reassuring squeeze. I sat like a statue, visions from the last few weeks playing through my mind, making promises and bargains with any higher power that might exist, telling myself over and over again how strong and capable Nate was.

  We pulled up outside the hospital and I felt nausea rise up inside me.

  Maddie picked up on my terror. “I’m here, baby girl, I’m right here with you. We don’t know what’s going on yet. Don’t lose hope. He’ll be OK, and he’s going to need his warrior there with him.” I took a deep, shuddering breath.

  I could be his warrior. I could be strong for him. He just needed to be ok. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly as we walked in through the hospital doors.

  Nate

  It had been days since I’d given the details to Byron, and I still hadn’t heard anything back. I felt restless and annoyed. I’d wanted to deal with this myself. It didn’t feel right leaving it to someone else. I’d told Byron that I wanted to be kept informed, and he’d simply stared at me.

  I’d wanted to lay his cocky, arrogant arse out flat on the floor there and then.

  I insisted that I’d give him the details only if he promised to keep me in the loop, the fact that I’d not heard anything since frustrated me and pissed me off. I’d rung him, but the call had gone to answerphone each time. I’d received one solitary message back stating that he would contact me when he had something to report.

  Nothing else had followed, and my patience was wearing thin.

  Things with Lena were good. She was still holding back on me, but I knew what a big step it had been for her to declare her love. I’d give her a little while longer to get her head around her feelings; it had taken me long enough to accept my own.

  Marcus walked into the room, interrupting my thoughts. “I thought you were supposed to be going to chase up on that cocoon?”

  “Yeah, I’m going now. I had to finish this first.” I logged off the computer and pushed up from the chair. “Everything ok with you?”

  “Yeah, all good. I’ve got somewhere I need to be shortly, I’m just finishing up here. You coming straight back in after it?” he questioned and I nodded. We agreed to catch up once I returned, and I left to visit a property we’d been called out to visit previously to investigate a domestic disturbance.

  If there were still concerns, regardless of whether charges had been pressed or not, the property could be marked for ‘cocoon watch,’ which meant that an inhabitant was believed to be at risk of harm and additional safety checks could be carried out. Although it was quite often a futile and pointless exercise, it was necessary.

  The call to the house went as I’d expected: the female answered the door and immediately tried to close it in my face. I held it open with my boot, showed her my warrant card and asked for five minutes of her time. She was reluctant to speak to me, holding the door open just a fraction further and trying her best to dissuade me from pursuing the previous incident any further.

  I was insistent, and she finally relented, allowing me access, but clearly wanting the matter resolved as quickly as possible. She refuted any claims of wrongdoing by her husband and claimed that it had all had been blown out of proportion. She refused any help. It was disheartening, but there wasn’t anything more that I could do. I left my card, knowing that she’d likely throw it away as soon as I was out of the door.

  I walked back to the car, feeling despondent. As I opened the door, I heard the crackle of static from the radio before dispatch came through requesting assistance. It was yet another domestic disturbance call. I heard Lindsay’s voice acknowledge the request and advise that she was a few minutes away and would attend.

  A split second later, the address registered, and my stomach plummeted.

  I thumped the steering wheel, cursing, before responding that I was a few minutes further out but would attend as well, advising Lindsay to wait for me to arrive.

  I jumped in the car and pulled off without bothering with the seat belt. It was the same address that I’d checked out - It was the address of that animal that had hurt Lena.

  I felt the adrenaline start to flow through my body and used it to focus me. I wasn’t concerned or anxious for myself - I’d been in worse situations than this - but I didn’t want Lindsay going into that house without backup. As I drove, I tried to contact her again on the radio, to let her know I was en route and to wait, but she didn’t respond.

  I flicked on the blues and twos and sped towards the address, sirens wailing and lights flashing.

  I was just pulling into the street when I heard Lindsay speaking through the radio, she sounded drunk, her words slightly slurred, “Officer down, I repeat, officer down. Assailant is armed, I repe…” her voice so soft and quiet I could barely hear it - then a gurgling sound which was barely audible through the radio but made every hair on my body stand on edge.

  My heart lodged in my throat. I slammed the car to an abrupt halt, bumping it half up onto the pavement before switching the engine off and sprinting towards the house without closing the door. I flung the gate open and raced to the front of the house.

  It looked no different from how it had looked the previous times I’d aimlessly driven by: there wasn’t anything distinctive or ominous about it. Except this time I knew Lindsay was in there, hurt, and I had no idea how badly.

  I knew just how fucked up this arsehole was, and I needed to get in there, urgently. I tried to contact her
on the radio but she didn’t answer.

  I glanced in through the windows but couldn’t see anything. I heard dispatch telling me that units were on their way, but there was no way in hell that I was waiting outside. I glanced around the side of the house, couldn’t see anything, and made a split-second decision to go back to the front.

  It had a normal, white, uPVC door with a glass front that was patterned so that you couldn’t see through it. I knocked and shouted “Police” before standing sharply to the side.

  There was no response.

  I yelled out Lindsay’s name but, again, there was nothing.

  I dashed to the side, scaling the large wooden gate. I landed on gravel and stopped for a moment to listen. I turned the radio down: the last thing I needed was that bursting into life and letting him know where I was and what was happening.

  They were on their way: that was all I needed to know.

  I strained my ears to listen but was met with silence. Advancing slowly, I made my way to the back door. The garden was empty; it was just a small square of land covered in chippings, low maintenance but lacking in any character. There weren’t any trees, bushes or shrubs, nothing to provide cover: it was a totally blank canvas. The stones crunched under my feet as I made my way to the door. My eyes darted everywhere, trying to locate him if he was still here, or catch a glimpse of the wife or Lindsay.

  I reached the door, tried the handle, and the door opened easily and quietly. Carefully, I leaned in, holding my breath as I listened for any signs of movement.

  The kitchen was new and modern. It was immaculately kept, but, clearly, there had been a disturbance. I could see what looked like a splatter of blood by the doorway.

  Creeping towards it, I could see it led into a small hallway. Cautiously, I glanced around the door frame and saw what looked like the main living room to my left. There were small drops of blood on the floor, and my heart rate kicked up further. They could have been from the wife or the arsehole, if Lindsay had overpowered him, but my gut was telling me that this didn’t feel right. I needed to find Lindsay.

  I couldn’t hear any noises. The whole house was eerily silent and still. I slipped through the doorway and walked carefully to the right, keeping close to the wall and checking out the open doorway into a bathroom. I moved past this slowly and approached a closed door. Leaning back to the side, I cautiously pushed the door open - but the room was empty. Spread on the bed was what looked like some kind of horror kit, the objects making me recoil in disgust. Obviously, this arsehole had other things in mind, stepping up significantly from letter writing. I quickly scanned the items then made my way towards the room at the end.

  I paused to listen for a moment before walking towards it. Just as I approached the door, I heard a burst of static from Lindsay’s radio, confirming that she was in that room.

  The door suddenly burst open, and he was right in front of me. I caught sight of Lindsay - she was on the floor behind him - and he took my moment of distraction to rush me. I felt him strike me hard in the abdomen as he tried desperately to push past me.

  No fucking chance!

  I grappled with him, grateful for my recent sessions with Paul, as I twisted out of his embrace. Yanking his arm harshly behind him, I spun him around roughly, forcing him aggressively up against the wall. His face hit the plaster, and he screamed out in pain. I pulled his arm up higher, grabbing him tightly to me and shoving him back into the room.

  I felt bile rush up into my mouth, a woman I presumed to be his wife, lay in a bloody heap on the floor in front of the fireplace. I was probably too late for her: there was a dark stain running out from under her and no signs of life.

  Lindsay wasn’t far away from her. I guessed that she’d gone to the woman’s aid, and he’d attacked her too.

  I slammed him into the floor next to Lindsay. He screamed out in pain, thrashing under me. I caught him by his hair, lifting his head up before I hit it hard back onto the floor. “Shut the fuck up, you worthless piece of shit!”

  He began to protest, spitting out blood and crying about police brutality, yelling that he was going to have me done for this and make me pay. I lifted his head and smashed it into the floor again, at which he shut the fuck up, his curses and threats falling silent.

  Switching my radio back on I called through, demanding that the backup and ambulance service get here urgently. I quickly tried to assess Lindsay just by sight. She was clearly losing a lot of blood. I shouted her name, and her eyes fluttered slightly.

  I dragged him over to the radiator, unhooked my cuffs and secured him to it, then I went back to Lindsay, stumbling in my haste. She was bleeding badly, her white shirt already soaked through. I picked up her hands, holding them under mine over her chest.

  “Lindsay! C’mon, Linds! Help me here! Hold on! I’m here for you. I’ve got you. Press down! Help me!” My pleas went unanswered.

  I quickly glanced over to his wife, my eyes jumping quickly between her and Lindsay. “I’m sorry, Linds…one sec…give me one sec!”

  I jumped up, rushed over to where the other woman lay and turned her over. My breath caught as I turned her onto her back: her resemblance to Lena was striking.

  I checked quickly for a pulse but I couldn’t feel anything. I left her, and went back to where Lindsay lay.

  Lindsay was my primary concern. The wife, as far as I could tell, was too far gone. I needed to be able to help Lindsay. I called out to her a few more times, shaking her roughly, and her eyes fluttered again. I pressed my hands back down on top of hers, trying to stop the bright red blood escaping from her chest.

  “Lindsay!” I called her name as loudly as I could, finding it hard to catch my own breath. I could see her struggling to focus and leant in close to her face. “I’m here, Linds. You’re going to be ok.”

  She gurgled again, and I felt my own desperation increasing as my hands slipped, covered in her blood as it seeped between my fingers. She tried to move her fingers and I linked them with mine, holding her hands and my own over the red stain that now covered her front.

  I couldn’t see anything within reach to press against her, and I didn’t want to leave her. I grabbed a cushion from the sofa but it was too well padded. I couldn’t get it tight enough to her body.

  “I need something to try and stop the bleeding. I need you to press down, Lindsay. Try and press for me!” I was pleading with her as I frantically began to strip off my own clothes to use to staunch the blood.

  It was only as I removed my own jacket that I realised that he’d caught me too. I thought that when he’d hit me it had been a punch, but he must have had a knife. Blood was running down my leg from the wound to my stomach but adrenaline was keeping me going for now.

  I’d need to deal with Lindsay and just hang on until help arrived. I stripped my shirt off, balled it up and held it tightly to her chest.

  She was trying to talk to me, and I shook my head at her, begging her to hold on and conserve her strength.

  “Nate, please…important. I need you…tell Marcus.” Her voice was becoming thready and weak.

  I yelled into the radio again, cursing and screaming at them. Her eyes were fluttering closed again and I shook her roughly.

  She forced her eyes open, turning them onto me, silently imploring me to listen to her. My hand was soaked in her blood, my own shirt now red as I held it to her chest.

  “Tell him…I wasn’t going, please…Tell him I chose him! I’d always choose him.”

  I could feel the tears rolling down my face. “Tell him yourself, goddammit! Lindsay, hold on, damn you! Don’t be a fucking pussy girl and hold on. You’re stronger than this, I know you are.”

  I saw her lips twitch slightly at the mention of ‘pussy girl.’ I’d teased her so much when I started to work with her- but her eyes closed again.

  “Lindsay!” I shook her again but there was no response so I shook her harder, demanding for her to open her eyes.

  Again, there was no response.
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  I checked over her again, trying desperately to find a pulse or get some kind of reaction from her, but there was nothing.

  My chest was hurting so badly I could barely breathe. Sobs tore from me, my heart breaking for Lindsay, for the friend I was losing, for Marcus and what I knew this would do to him, as I turned towards the man who had done this. He was cowering against the radiator.

  Ignoring my own pain, I strode towards him, kneeled down next to him and snarled, “Are you behind the letters to Lena Nicholls, too?”

  He looked shocked for a moment before finding his voice, sounding smug despite his circumstances.

  Clearly, smashing his face into the floor hadn’t knocked any sense into him.

  “You can’t do this! I want a solic…”

  My fist connected with his face before he could finish his request. He looked at me, stunned, blood spurting from his broken nose, and I repeated the question.

  His reaction told me all I needed to know.

  “I guess that bag of tricks was for Lena too, then, huh?” I spat out at him as I reached behind me to grab the knife that he’d dropped after plunging it into my stomach.

  I was starting to get dizzy, my vision beginning to blur at the edges. I picked it up, then grabbed the keys and unlocked his handcuffs.

  He looked at me warily, his eyes darting about nervously as he looked frantically for an exit.

  No such luck, arsehole!

  Coming after Lena was enough, but what he’d done to Lindsay had sealed his fate.

  His eyes settled on the knife as we both rose to our feet, never straying from it as we stood face to face. “What are you doing?” he asked, anxiously.

  I was aware that I was starting to sway slightly. I lunged forward without hesitation.

  The hatred I felt for him because of Lena would have been enough, but the image of his disgusting assortment on the bed, the horrors he might have been planning for Lena, as well as what he’d done to Lindsay who was lying on the floor: bleeding out, spittle on her lips and her eyes glazing over - that was enough to push me over the edge.