Chapter Twenty-Three

"Get off her!"

Amber barely made out the words that were spoken in a deep voice that was void of any human connection. It was beast like, a warning to yield or face the wrath, yet Chris was given no time to make a choice let alone release the hold on her.

Steve wrapped his arm around his neck from behind and pulled him back away from her. He shifted his body and leaned to the side, taking Chris with him as his feet came off the ground. His whole body jerked as if he were a ragdoll and was then thrown to the ground face first with his cheek forced into the asphalt payment.

Steve applied more pressure on his face as Chris groaned in pain and squirmed trying to get free from the relentless hold.

"I'm a police officer!" Chris grunted out the words, in hopes that would relieve the situation.

Steve used his free hand, keeping the other on Chris' face and pulled his badge off his hip. He leaned down, holding it up to his face, "So am I."

"She's a murder," Chris grumbled. "She has a…ahhh," he cried out, feeling the pressure on his face increase.
"If you keep pissing me off with your bullshit, I'm going to make you a permanent piece of this parking lot."

"Let me go!" Chris growled. "I can explain. Let me go!"

Steve looked up at Amber who stared down at him in shock over the display before her. She thought she had seen him angry before, but this was on a whole new level.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded staring at him with wide eyes.

"Good. Get in the car," he said to her, his voice still strongly mirroring his anger but on a more controlled tone for her. "Go home, right now."

She didn't ask questions or hesitate in any way. She fumbled with the car door handle, realizing it was locked. Her purse lay at her feet as she bent over, feeling a bruised pain in her stomach from the attack.

She picked up the keys and remotely unlocked the door, getting inside and starting the engine.

"You can't let her go!" Chris shouted.

Steve motioned with his head for her to go as she looked at him from the window. She put it in reverse and backed up, and then drove off.

"Commander," one of two officers asked as they hurried over to him, shocked over the incident that had taken place in their parking lot, but also very familiar with the man that seemed to have it under control as well, "do you need assistance, Sir?"

"Nope, everything is under control," he said calmly.

Steve lifted his hand and stood up, looking down at Chris.

"Detective Christopher Hairfield," he said in a low threatening tone. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett. Stand up."

Chris lifted his face from the pavement and squinted in pain as he wiped away the tiny pieces of rocks that were partly embedded in his skin. He looked up at the towering figure with his arms crossed and staring down at him with not a hint of regret.

He pushed himself up to his knees and slowly got up with no assistance from his assailant.

He panted heavily and leaned over, brushing his pants legs off and then inspecting his right elbow that was scratched but not bleeding.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Chris yelled. "You let her go! She's a murder suspect! You should have arrested…" he shut his mouth quickly and took a step back as Steve took a step toward him ready to attack again.

"You must like the taste of asphalt," Steve threatened him, "but if you don't keep your mouth shut, you're going to be tasting my fist down your throat."

Chris held his hands up in defense. "Whoa, take it easy. I'm not the enemy here." He looked in the direction of where Amber had driven off, angered that he had let her go, but as the scenario played out in his head he looked back over at Steve, wondering who this guy really was?

"Just let me explain who I am," Chris began when Steve cut him off.

"I know exactly who you are."

It was then that Chris recalled Steve calling him by name, "Hey, yea," he narrowed his eyes as he looked at him. "Who are you?"

"I already told you who I am, but I don't look familiar to you?" he scowled.

Chris shook his head, trying to figure out how in the hell he knew this guy and why he would attack him like he had. He was just making an arrest. "I don't know you. And is this how you treat fellow officers?"

"Is that how you make an arrest, by shoving someone up against a car and then verbally threatening them!" his voice growing angry once again.

Chris feared another attack, considering this guy certified nuts as he evaluated his stature, wondering if he could defend himself without the sneak attack from behind. His ego said yes, but his rational side warned him to be smarter.

"You said you should look familiar to me, but you don't, so who are you?"

"Approximately six feet, dark hair; medium build; 25 to 45 years of age," he glared at him, "does that ring a bell?"

Chris could have recited the arrest warrant from memory he knew it so well, hell he'd written it. His eyes narrowed again as he studied the aggressive stranger and then all at once it hit him. This guy was the other possible suspect in his theory.

In a flash everything began to fall into place. Why Amber was at the police station to begin with. Why this guy had told her to get in the car and drive home. His home perhaps, he thought angrily. And more importantly it explained why he had so viciously blind side attacked him, not taking into consideration for even a second that he had done the same thing to Amber only seconds before.

"I do know you," Chris replied bitterly. "Now I have a face and a name to go with my second sus…" he paused over that last word, not wanting another confrontation. "Don't think just because you're in law enforcement that you are above the law, Officer," he used that last word as if it were tainted.

"And don't you think for a second that you can just get on a plane and fly over here and just assume that you're going to take her back. Amber's not going anywhere. The only thing you're going home with is your dick in your hand."

"I have an eyewitness that puts her at the dock and on the boat the morning of the murders."

"You have a thieving junkie with a record a mile long that would probably say he saw his dear ole' grandma there to get a free pass with the law!" Steve bellowed. "Or whatever you were offering him!"

Chris wiped his hand across his mouth, "He was there and he saw it!"

"So was my mother and my uncle," Steve mocked him, "but I'll tell you who wasn't there, Amber Scott, and I'll prove it without a shadow of a doubt," he said confidently. "My only question to you is why? Why do you want to see her punished for something she didn't do, especially this?"

"She's guilty."

Steve heard the tone in his voice but not his eyes as he turned them away, a sign of guilt as far as he was concerned.

"Bullshit. You want to punish her out of some fucked up code or relationship or whatever it was you had with her ex. He killed himself, but before the coward ridded the world of his scum, he killed those kids too. It was nothing more than cold-blooded murder to make Amber suffer, and now you're here making sure the job is complete." He looked at him as if he were nothing more than a vile insect that had landed on his dinner. "I'm going to clear her name," he said, pointing at him, "and then I'm coming after you."

"For what?" he asked trying to imitate the same tone, but not getting the same intimidating result from Steve.

"Manufacturing evidence for one, and for fabricating that arrest warrant as well as assault. If you go near Amber again, I'll bury you under that asphalt."

"Are you threatening me?"

"You're damn right I am, and you better take it seriously."

Chris wanted to retaliate in the worst way but didn't, keeping his mouth shut as the pain in his head throbbed from the earlier take down. He backed away from him, avoiding going back into the police station, considering it a waste of time now. They would all be protecting her. Instead he turned once he felt he was far enough away to avoid another blind side and went to his car.

Steve watched him get in the rental, waiting until he backed up and then read the license plate, wanting to know his whereabouts at all times.

He pulled out his cell phone and texted Amber, wanting a reply once she arrived home to make sure she was ok.

'Kevin deserved more,' Chris thought viciously. She had ruined his life, both of their lives. They had something good together as partners and even more so as friends. He thought of that word 'friends', using it as a cover up to describe what they had actually become to one another, but it was even more than that.

He exited the police station and pulled into an empty parking lot and gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, laying his head down on it.

"Why?! Why?!" he growled and then his voice choked, "Why?"

He sat back in the seat as his whole body felt the impact of the loss once again. He only allowed himself to feel it once or twice and never in public. The funeral had been torture. He wanted to sit by Kevin's casket the rest of the day and into the night, but knew it was impossible. Instead he had to put on a strong face and an even stronger front, unable to speak how he really felt about his 'friend', how they felt about each other. It was a dark secret between them that had been buried with Kevin and would eventually die with him, because he would never feel it again with anyone else, not his wife and never, ever with his new partner, John. He was heartbroken and would have to live with it for the rest of his life in silence.

It had been their secret, but somehow Kevin had been convinced that Amber had found out.

Chris let out a deep bedded sigh, recalling how terrified Kevin was of anyone ever finding out, but most of all Amber or his children.

"She drove him to the edge of despair," he mumbled feeling that anger rise in him again. Her threat of divorce was his cause to react the way he had. It was temporary insanity; not believing that Kevin, the man he knew and loved was capable of doing what he had unless it was under extreme duress. His family meant everything to him, but even thinking those words now forced him to admit part of the truth. His family was his cover, without them he might be exposed. The shame he would bring his children and worse yet, how they would see him after she told him who their father really was became too much for him and he snapped.

It was a heavy burden that Chris himself was willing to carry, but not Kevin. He never could.

He sat back in his seat with tears in his eyes, feeling Kevin's pain that day that he ended it all, knowing that whatever happened at the house the night before, it was Amber who had pushed him over into the abyss, there was no other explanation.

He would get his retribution for his friend, and for himself for the loss of the only man he would ever love.

….

Amber came out of the station parking lot and headed down the street toward the freeway on ramp. Her heart was beating like a drum. She reached over flipping the air conditioner on full blast to cool herself off, feeling her adrenaline out of control from what had just taken place.

Her thoughts went to Steve and the look on his face as he approached her, his eyes dark and full of rage. They weren't focused on her but on Chris. He had sacked her assailant within seconds and with little effort, it was shocking yet she also couldn't help but think how impressive it was. A small smile crossed her lips and her heart began beating to a different, more pleasing rhythm.

Her mind drifted back to the words from Chris.

"Why?" she asked herself again, "why does he hate me so much?"

The air on her face felt good as her body calmed from the earlier chaos.

She sped up to sixty as she got on the freeway.

She looked over her shoulder at the oncoming traffic when a sudden pain in her abdomen caused her to gasp and fall forward, bracing her hand on the dashboard while still trying to steer the car as the pain increased.

"Ahhh," she moaned sitting back and putting her palm over the painful area trying to ward off the discomfort as it intensified. Her head began to feel light and she blinked several times trying to clear her vision that was becoming blurred.

"Oh god," she moaned, navigating the car to the side of the road when everything went black. She fell forward onto the steering wheel, unconscious.

The car swerved across the center lane as cars slammed on their brakes and honked, unaware of the driver's dilemma. She fell to the side causing the steering wheel to turn sharply as an oncoming mini van struck her rear passenger side door, spinning the CRV around sending it into the path of another car that swerved to avoid the mini van, striking her on the opposite side front end.

All three vehicles finally came to rest as traffic on the busy freeway came to a halt. Amber lay slumped over with her seat belt still in place, her head bleeding from being thrown about and hitting the driver's side window causing it to crack. Steam from the broken radiator poured out from under the damaged hood as good Samaritans from other vehicles rushed to the accident victims.

…..

Danny brought the Camaro to a screeching halt just down the walkway from the ER entrance.

Steve was out of the car before it had entirely stopped, running to the entrance, impatiently using his hands to pry open the sliding doors that were not working quickly enough for him.

His mind was cluttered with pictures of her in the morgue, lying on that same steel table that Catherine had been on. He did everything he could to push the gruesome images away but the fear of the past reliving itself was torturing him beyond belief.

He came up to the counter but was looking in the direction of the ER doors where she would have been taken.

"Amb…" he stammered, his voice shaky with panic, taking a breath and trying again. "Amber Scott? She was…she was in a car accident. They brought her here." He looked in the direction of the closed doors again.

The receptionist behind the partition typed in the name, clearly seeing fear that she had witnessed so many times from loved ones of ER patients.

"Yes, she's here." She rose from behind the desk and came around out the door that separated her from the lobby. "You can follow me."

"Is she ok?!" Steve asked as he walked a step behind her. "She's pregnant," he blurted out, feeling faint as a wave of deja' vu practically brought him to his knees.

"The doctor will be able to answer your questions," she replied with a sympathetic look over her shoulder, hoping everything was ok with whom she assumed was his wife. "Wait here Mr. Scott," she ordered as she approached a closed glass door with the curtain closed. She opened it just enough to be heard, alerting them of his presence. She didn't wait for a reply and closed the door again, walking back to him, "Someone will be out shortly to speak with you." She didn't wait for a reply from him either as she kept walking; going out through the doors she had led him through.

He stared at the glass doors and curtain that was concealing the activity inside. Every second that ticked by with no answers only heightened his fear as it began to consume him.

Tears formed as he bent his head, his fingers clasped tightly together and pressed against his lips as he whispered her name over and over, praying for her to be unharmed, for their baby to be safe and sound. He couldn't go through it again, he just couldn't. If anything happened to Amber it would be the death of him as well.

He heard the curtain being whooshed to the side as the door opened and a man dressed in green scrubs came out. He held the door as two others dressed in the same attire wheeled the bed out with Amber in it. All he could see was her head that had a bandage on it and some sort of medical device that was tucked in next to her sitting on the cream colored blanket that was over her body.

He took a step toward her, saying her name as the doctor turned and saw him.

"Steve?" Amber replied in a weak voice, hearing his voice, desperate to see him, but not for herself, for him, knowing he must be going mad from fear.

He felt a jolt of joy that could be seen on his face amongst the tears over the sound of her voice as he quickly followed it, drawn to her as if it were his last breath of life. The people pushing the bed didn't stop as they continued down the hall to their known destination. The doctor came towards him, removing his mask from his face, but the eyes of the man he was approaching were not on him but the bed that was being carted away.

"We're taking her up to surgery," he said, knowing that would get his attention and it did, stopping Steve in his tracks.

"She's pregnant," he blurted out again, wanting everyone important to know.

"I know," he replied calmly. "We did an ultrasound and the babies fine. It has a good heartbeat and in no distress."

He ran his hands over his hair, the relief from that was overwhelming. "Amber?" he questioned next, looking past him again and seeing them stopped at the service elevator used to transport patients from the ER.

"She's stable right now but has a concussion and a hairline laceration on her liver that is causing some internal bleeding. We're taking her up to surgery and Doctor Kahale will be performing the operation. She's an amazing surgeon, your wife is in good hands."

"I want to see her," Steve pleaded, looking past him again to the gurney that was being wheeled into the elevator.

The doctor turned toward the elevators and called out for them to hold it.

He turned to Steve as they both jogged down in that direction. "Five seconds," he said firmly, "that's all you got."

Steve didn't care all he needed was one second. He just needed to see her face.

He came to the elevator and she was already inside headfirst. One of the nurses held her arm over the door, preventing it from closing. There was no room for him to go inside as he stood at the foot of the bed, putting a hand on her shin as she looked down at him from the slightly raised headrest.

"Steve," she whispered with desperation in her weak voice, tears welling up in her eyes over the worry in his. "It's ok," she tried to assure him, "I won't leave you. I promise."

"I love you," he said without hesitation because he did, and the fear of losing her and never getting a chance to say it overshadowed any doubts he might have had left.

She mouthed the words back to him, unable to speak them, too overwhelmed by the honesty of his voice.

The nurse pushed him back as the doors closed, both holding each other's line of sight until the last possible second.