Chapter 5
You spend a week together, with the curtains drawn and the doors locked. She called off for you, and you love her for it. A week ago, she was almost stabbed. And if it hadn't been for her quick thinking and impressive monumental agility skills in seeing the knife flicked at her and her diving out of the way as the man charged at the two of you from where he had hidden in the closet and pushing you aside in the process, you're certain she would have been dead had her partner not come rushing in just in the nick of time.
It had been a normal crime scene. Just like any other.
Except this time is the fourth time in the months you'd come to spend without her, that you're with her and you're basking in her presence. Just the feeling of her a few meters away from you makes you glow as she tells her partner to case the rest of the house and make sure the crime scene is secure. And then she's there, by your side and she crouches next to you, resting on the balls of her feet as you tell her what you can about the body. Female. Body still warm. Twelve wounds creating by a sharp object. And there's a teasing glint in her eyes as she tries to get you to tell her whether the reddish-brown substance that's now congealing from the wounds is actually blood, the sort of object that caused the wounds and whether one of them is directly related to the victim's death. You roll your eyes but you're grateful for the lightheartedness of it all, the familiarity. You open your mouth but before you can even respond, there's a swinging of doors in front of you as a man comes charging out. He's wielding a knife. His face is contorted and his eyes hold a determined glint.
You freeze.
Time literally slows down for you as you watch it all happen in slow motion. But then you feel a shove and the breath leaves your body as she pushes you to one side and makes an oh so graceful dive over the body. The knife wielding maniac isn't as considerate though and you watch as he steps over the body, leaving his footprint in the blood that lays thickened on the floor, nudging the slightly in the process. You watch as he goes for her, as she slips out of his grasp, winds her way underneath before reaching for his collar and slamming him against the wall. Somehow, he manages to turn around, to face her.
He backhands her causing her to stumble and fall. And then before you know it, he's straddling her, towering over her, and you watch as he lowers the arm that holds the sharp serrated object slowly towards her, her hands wrapping round his wrist in an attempt to slow the process, to find another way out from under him. You see her straining to keep his arm away.
You search for a weapon of some kind and your eyes fall on the lamp that's on the dresser but just as you're reaching for it, Frost comes skidding in, always the one to miss out on the start of the action itself, always getting there just as the thick of it occurs. The guy is a brute of a man and it takes not only the two of them but two other officers who have come running in to investigate the ruckus to subdue him.
And once it's all over, once the cuffs are slapped on his wrists, you're reminded once again of her own mortality. Today, you came this close.
Too close.
And you can't bear thinking of a life without her.
Not again.
Because this time, you're not sure you would survive.
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