The Truth Will Out – Part Three
Part Nineteen of the Robyn series.
He couldn't move. His legs quaked beneath him as the icy hand of terror clamped itself round his heart tightening its already formidable grip. Never had he felt such fear as this, his throat became as dry as dust choking off his air supply. His hands shook almost as badly as his legs and he could feel a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. Had he been able to see a reflection of himself he would have been startled out of his wits, his flesh had become almost bone white as his blood trickled away from the surface of his skin. All of the strength and energy he had gained from eating the fruit he had not long before was slowly being drained away by his fear, soon there would be nothing of it left and he would be doomed. Sports candy had the same affect on Lily as it had on him, while his strength was fading hers was growing, fuelled by her anger.
Slowly she stood up, her movements flowing like liquid silk. Lifting a hand to her face once more she removed a pair of contact lenses from her eyes, contact lenses that had masked her cold, dark blue eyes beneath gentle brown ones. Thus released from her well contrived disguise, her lips formed a smile more ghastly than any he'd ever seen grace her features before. In the years that had passed since she'd been gone he'd forgotten how intense that smile could be, how dangerous. So far she had made no other movement than to stand up or alter her appearance but he knew that there was more to come, there was more and much worse to come. Part of him wished that she would do whatever she was planning to do him quickly, he couldn't stand waiting; waiting for her to act, waiting for the inevitable pain that was to come, waiting to die.
Finally, after seconds had seemed to creak by like hours and minutes like days, she finally began to move. Taking a step forward she watched as he took two steps back, if he continued to do this he would soon trap himself against the wall leaving himself no avenue for escape. She knew that he wouldn't be able to flip out of harm's way and if he tried to run she would catch him and only the fates knew what she would do to him then. Fuelled by her rage and the energy spread throughout her limbs by the sports candy she was faster, stronger and more capable to do more damage to him than he could have ever hoped of doing to her.
He was defenceless.
Bright lights reflected off of the surface of polished stainless steel tables all around them. It was quiet tonight; no music played through the speakers, no one danced upon the empty floor, no one sat conversing in secluded corners that had been long forgotten and no lovers snuck into the empty back rooms provided for the intimate excursions of those denizens that cared to use them. Only their hushed conversation kept the silence at bay, pushing it back to the far reaches of the walls surrounding them. They sat close to one another but not close enough to encroach on the personal boundaries of their companion.
Each man held a drink in his hand that had been otherwise neglected from the time they had gotten them. Each had resolved to let neither food nor drink pass his lips or sleep refresh their eyes until they had heard the words they so desperately wanted to hear. In his own way, his own right, each man feared those words but once they had been spoken it would be over. Once they knew what was happening they could begin to pick up the pieces of a fractured life and try to heal wounds that would never fully close.
"She wouldn't…if she was…she wouldn't…not his…" Kit struggled to find the words to express the thoughts that were plaguing his mind.
Ché sighed, "Robyn will do what is right whatever the outcome. We have to remember that it's her choice no matter what. If things turn out bad, if Cain managed to do something more to Robyn than he's done already, then we have to stand by her. What happened was a terrible thing and we can only hope that they won't get any worse."
"God, if I ever get my hands on that vicious little git I'd string him up faster than he could say 'no',"
"We all would, Kit. Maybe he learnt a lesson after I sent him flying into that door. I just wish I'd gotten there sooner."
Kit shook his head, "Don't blame yourself, Ché. Robyn doesn't blame you either, there was very little you could have done. At least you got there, not like me and Nick."
"Let's agree on something," Ché began, "If I don't blame myself, you don't blame yourself, amigo."
With a nod and a ghost of a smile Kit shook Ché's enormous hand. He could detect the slightest tremor in that strong grip; it made him wonder if the giant really believed his own words. As for himself he couldn't quite ease his conscience from the wounds inflicted on it from guilt's barbed hooks. Until they knew the results of the test they'd been waiting for he wouldn't allow himself the luxury of absolution.
With the recommencement of silence in a room that should have been full of people both men returned to their own thoughts. Each felt the sting of what had happened to Robyn, each wished that they could have done more. In their hearts they knew that they had done all that was humanly possible but for Ché that wasn't nearly good enough.
He was a hero, he was meant to save people, despite having been stripped of his title he hadn't been stripped of his duties. Every day he taught his students he taught them how to do their job, he taught them that timing was everything and that being late was out of the question. Now, he had failed; he had failed himself, his students and most of all, he had failed Robyn. Even if she forgave him in person he would never forget the look in her eyes as he bundled her up in his arms or the heart wrenching sobs he had heard when she'd been reunited with Kit. He was certain that the vision and sound of her pain would follow him closely to his grave.
Hearing a sound from the far side of the room both men turned their heads. Standing in the doorway to the corridor separating the club from the private rooms was Natalie Lambert. Her face adopted a sympathetic smile as she walked towards their table. Her footsteps were slow but not torturously so as she made it to the table within a reasonable time frame. At first she seemed indecisive about who she should talk to but finally her eyes fell on Kit, with a slight movement of her head she indicated for him to join her at another table further away from the one he was occupying presently. Rather than force to Kit to move, Ché stood up and moved to a table on the far side of the room leaving Kit and the doctor quite alone.
"What is it?" Kit asked once Nat had sat down.
A thin smile spread across Nat's lips, "You've got nothing to worry about, from what I can tell Cain didn't get very far with what he was doing. I can't guarantee that there won't be an infection but I feel I can safely say that he didn't manage to do what he may have intended to do."
With a deep sigh of relief Kit closed his eyes and rested his head on the table, "Thank heaven for that! How is she anyway?"
"She's asking for you. I'm done here so you're welcome to go to her. Take care of her, she's suffered a massive shock and she's shaky at best…"
"I understand, I wouldn't say she's not had problems before. Thanks, Doc."
Nat smiled and squeezed Kit's hand; she could tell how much he loved Robyn and felt that the girl was very lucky to be with someone that felt so strongly about her.
Blood dripped slowly down the vacant window smearing it in its descent. Every now and then a drop would slip down to a raised part of the window frame before falling into a pool of blood, without a sound, that slowly grew as every moment passed and was spread across the immaculate floor. These were the only movements in darkness, in the death like silence that surrounded it.