“I drove to see you! I brought you flowers! I waited for you all day, for what? For what? To see him arrive at your door! How long were you cheating on me? How long…?”
He ranted and raved about her infidelity, waving the knife around, but Katrin stopped listening, tears snaking down her cheeks as she leaned her head forward slowly. Taking a quick inventory of her battered body, the news wasn’t good. My arm is broken. My lip is split. My right eye is almost swollen shut. She let her head fall forward in defeat, her chin touching her chest as more tears spilled from her eyes.
No one is coming. No one is coming to save you.
You’re going to die here.
He’s going to kill you.
She pictured Erik’s face in her mind and focused on it as hard as she could. As soon as Wade finished his tirade, he would plunge that knife in her chest or neck, but when he did, she thought with the tiniest shred of defiance, she would die thinking of Erik. She searched her mind for Erik’s voice, his beloved voice, telling her that he loved her, telling her that he never wanted to wake up without her again.
Tears streamed down her face in silent rivulets, mixing with blood before plopping in garish red drops on her once pristine, pink polo shirt.
“Katrin! Kat!”
At first, she thought it was in her mind.
“Katrin! I’m coming!”
Then, she realized, through a fog of pain and self-imposed mental escape, Erik was screaming her name.
She opened her left eye to see Wade being jerked backward by an almost inhuman force. One second he was standing in front of her, knife raised, the next he wasn’t.
She turned her head, slowly, painfully, to see Wade stagger to his feet in her living room and lung toward Erik with the knife high. Erik lowered his head and barreled into Wade’s chest like a bull, knocking him into the wall by her sofa.
The knife clattered to the ground as Erik leaned back to right himself, snarling at Wade. His hand shot to Wade’s neck, holding him against the wall. Veins bulged in Erik’s arm and neck as he choked the life out of Wade Doyle. Even through puffy, swollen eyes, Katrin could see the white knuckles of Erik’s hand, the stark terror on Wade’s face.
“Stop!” she screamed from her chair, so weak and light-headed she was barely able to stand up. “Erik, stop!”
Erik turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. His face contorted in pain and he loosened his grip on Wade’s neck.
“Aw, Kat,” Erik sobbed, his voice raw and breaking. From the horror on his face, Katrin realized how bad she must look.
With Erik distracted, Wade pushed forward.
As Erik stumbled back, Wade leaned down to grab the knife.
“Watch out!” she screamed.
Erik turned just in time to grab Wade’s wrist, struggling for a moment before bending it backward with a revolting snap. The knife fell to the floor once again, while Wade’s wrist hung limply at an unnatural angle. Erik kicked the knife away and pushed Wade into the wall where he slumped slowly to the ground, curling up in a ball, cradling his wrist and sobbing.
“It’s only because I love her…I love her…I love her…”
Erik squatted down in front of Wade, grabbing his chin in a vise-grip and making Wade look at him. “Well, she doesn’t love you. It’s over. Do you understand me? Over. And here’s the only warning you’re ever going to get: If you ever come near her again, I will kill you.”
Katrin heard the sirens in the distance as Erik crossed the room in giant strides. She stood up weakly, but Erik scooped her up into his arms, cradling her gently. Without looking back, he headed out the door and down the stairs, leaving a crumpled Wade behind.
***
Erik looked down at Katrin’s hand in his, stroking it gently as he sat beside her on the short ambulance ride to the hospital. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, the blood and bruises reminding him that he had failed her.
There was so much he wanted to say—I’m sorry I left you, I’m sorry I was late, I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, I’d rather die than lose you—but he didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t trust himself to form the words without trembling, or worse, sobbing, with latent fear and guilt and fury. So he stared at her small, pale hand, holding it gently but firmly in his, too overwhelmed to say anything at all.
“Do you want the doctors to check that bruise on your face?”
The medic repeated himself twice before Erik realized that she was speaking to him. “N-no. Worry about her. I’m fine.” I didn’t get there in time. I didn’t get there in time.
“When we get there, they’ll need to check her out in one of the examination rooms. You won’t be able to go with her, Mr. Lindstrom, but we’ll come find you once the doctor gives us the okay,” the medic said as they pulled up in front of the hospital.
Erik flinched, hating that he was going to have to let her out of his sight even for a moment. Panic rose up in him as he looked down at her face.
Her worried blue eyes, one swollen nearly all the way shut, looked up to capture his and her thumb dusted his palm soothingly. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. It’s okay now.”
As they opened the
