21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Samuel

I look at Rory . . . Ro, sitting next to me at the kitchen table.

We spent the night together, and he's still here, helping me go through the documents Aidan provided.

This morning, when I opened my eyes, he was still plastered to my back, and I couldn't contain the joy spreading inside me. I'm glad he was still asleep, and didn't see me making a fool of myself while I watched him. My cheeks were hurting because of how much I was smiling. I was like a love-struck idiot. I spent the time caressing his hair just to make sure he was really here with me.

Now, I can't keep my eyes to myself. Or my hands, for that matter. He doesn't seem to mind that I'm so touchy-feely. I'm glad, because I can't stop myself. He seems to have the same problem though, because when I refrain, he's the one reaching out to me.

Am I really allowed to be happy?

I push the thought away when Rory's hand lands on my thigh, and all my attention is called away from the past, back to a very exciting present.

I'd love nothing more than to throw these papers away and take him to bed again. I want to take my time making him come on my cock. Maybe multiple times.

It's been a long time since I allowed anyone to top me, but yesterday our needs collided. His to be in control, and mine to let go for once. I've never come that hard before, either—ever.

I glance at him and smile, loving the way his eyes light up when he looks at me.

He leans closer, gripping my thigh tighter, and when our lips meet, I take possession. My need for him grows with every passage of my tongue over his lips, and with every new moan coming out of him.

But . . . should I be doing this with him? Is it a good idea to start something when there is so much he doesn't know about me?

But the main question is . . . Am I ready to open up to him?

My answer surprises me, because yes, I'm ready to share everything with him. How did we become this close in just a couple of months?

Am I ready to do something about moving on, like Ro is doing? Am I ready to face Lucy and Daniel? Am I ready to face my past and the mistakes I made?

Am I? I'm not sure.

Isn't that reason enough for me not to start anything with him?

I pull back, lost in my mind again.

"Is everything okay?" Rory says, placing a hand on my neck, as if afraid I'll walk away from him.

"No." But then I fall silent because I'm not sure what to say. Because while I'm ready to share, I'm not ready to see him walk away from me when I admit I won't be able to do anything to free myself from the weight of my sins.

I'm not as brave as he is. I won't be able to walk up to Lucy and Daniel and plead with them to forgive me for what I did.

"What's wrong?" he says, pulling away from me, but I stop him by taking his hand.

"I have something to tell you. You'll probably leave after I'm done, but I can't keep going on like this."

"I'm not going anywhere."

How can he be so sure?

"I'm a coward." The word falls out of my mouth, leaving Rory stunned by my outburst.

He looks at me for a while, maybe trying to understand where my words are coming from.

"I've never thought of you as a coward," he says, and then continues. "What I think you are is brave, kind, and caring. You're a rock who allows people to rely on you. You give comfort and hope. This is what you gave me, too." He looks at me and blushes a bit, as though he'd said something he didn't want to say.

"A person who killed someone is nothing close to what you just said."

"Did . . ." He stops as if uncertain of what or how to ask.

"My impulsive actions killed my partner."

"Are you referring to what happened when you were starting out in the police force?"

This time it's me looking at him, stunned. How does he know?

"I read an article after we met. I needed to know who you were and if I could trust you."

I never read the news about what happened, because no one knew more than me about what went down in the alley that day. Only those who interviewed me know what happened, and it never left those walls.

"I'm not sure what you read was the truth."

"Then tell me your truth. And I can promise you I'll be here after you are done."

The same recurring question I've had since I met him fills my mind. Why does he affect me this much? What is it about him that pulls at my strings and makes me think I can be a better man? How is it he makes me believe I'm perfect the way I am? That what I've done is something I can move on from?

I can only trust him and believe what he says. Even if I'm sure that by the time I'm done, he will no longer see me as the same man he believes me to be right now. I take a deep breath and start from the beginning of the day that changed my life forever.

"There was a gang fight, and we were asked to intervene. When we got there, one of the people involved was threatening the others with a knife. As soon as he saw us, he ran away. We couldn't follow by car, so we jumped out and pursued him on foot." I take another deep breath to calm my heart. It's beating so fast I'm afraid it's going to jump out of my chest.

"This is the first time, aside from being interviewed by the IOPC—the Independent Office for Police Conduct—that I'm talking about this. The only other person who knows anything about this is Jason, but we never talk about it." My muscles loosen a bit when Rory places his hand on mine and strokes my skin, as if trying to infuse strength and courage into me. Another deep breath and then it's like I'm back there, still that trainee full of hope, determination, and bravery.

"Last few days of your eight weeks of training," Adrian says, and I grin from ear to ear, because I'm so close to completing my degree.

"Are you saying you are going to miss me?"

"Like hell I will."

I laugh out loud, and he smiles while pretending to send a dark look my way.

"Are you ready for the next one?"

"Oh God. Don't ruin my day. I was happy at the thought of having a rest after I finally got rid of you."

"You love me," I say, winking at him.

"Your cockiness is somewhat disturbing," he says, slapping my neck with the paw he has instead of a hand.

"Hey," I say, sending him a frustrated look. "I'm driving."

"Yeah, that's the only good thing about having you here."

"Nice. That's very nice of you."

The radio chooses that moment to invade the vehicle, and we stop fooling around to listen to dispatch.

"State two," Adrian says in reply to dispatch, confirming that we are free and ready for assignment.

"Disturbance in progress. Entrance North of Hyde Park. Proceed with caution. We have been advised of a fight," the radio informs us.

"We're close. State five," Adrian replies, so they are aware we are responding to the incident.

"Two other patrols en route, at least ten people involved."

"State fifteen," Adrian says, to confirm we are aware of what's happening, before turning to me. "Sam, bring us there." Then, while using the grab handle, he pats my back, and that's all the encouragement I need.

We got this.

I press on the gas and drive as fast as I can in the London traffic. We're not too far from the call. I use the emergency line when the traffic is heavy, and in less than a couple of minutes, we are at the right entrance to the park.

I pull the car to a stop, and then exit while keeping my eyes trained on the fight happening in front of me. Something blinks, but it's too fast for me to understand what it is. so I approach them slowly and with caution. Knives are an issue lately.

I hear Adrian speaking with dispatch, telling them we're at the scene and approaching those fighting.

Still not sure of what I've seen, while I wait for Adrian to leave the car and join me, I focus on them.

"What's happening here?" Adrian asks, but they don't seem to listen.

I don't take my eyes off them because things can happen at any time and I want to be prepared. As they say in training, everything can happen in a flash and we need to be ready to intervene to save people's lives, keeping ourselves alive at the same time.

"Police! Stop what you're doing." This time Adrian's booming voice has an effect and most of them stop fighting to acknowledge us.

"What's happening here?" I ask, when the commotion seems to mute a bit.

"Nothing officers. We're just having some fun," one of them says, but I don't particularly like the glint in his eye.

"People called us because of the disturbance you're creating here."

"We weren't doing anything bad," another says, but he keeps looking at the man who answered first.

That's when I notice one of his hands is behind his back, and that puts me on edge.

"Can you show me your hands?" I ask, in a calm and, I hope, commanding voice.

He takes his time before showing me his hands, but I'm not happy about it.

"Please, turn around. Show me your back."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead by now. I keep my eyes on him and repeat my request.

"Turn around." The challenging look he gives me suddenly disappears, and darkness spreads across his face. He moves his hand to his back again, and I reach for my baton and my pepper spray. The hair on my body stands up, as if it knows something is going to happen.

I never ignore my gut, and right now, it's telling me to be ready. Another glint appears when he removes his hands from behind his back and the sun hits the blade.

"Knife!" I shout, so Adrian is aware, and I jump back when he tries to stab me.

"Fuck." Adrian's voice carries a worry I've never heard before. "Radio. Knife situation, please send armed officers."

"Ten seventy-six." After a few long seconds, radio confirms they are en route.

I use my baton and the spray to keep the man with the knife away, but as suddenly as the assault started, it stops. The suspect runs into the park.

I look at Adrian, and he nodes.

"Ten eighty." He confirms to dispatch that we are in pursuit.

"Ten sixty-nine. Be careful."

We can't leave an armed person walking the streets. We won't engage, as that's an armed police job, but we will keep track of his movement until they're here and can intervene.

Why is this happening when I only have three days to go?

I run after the guy, and I hear Adrian asking the other patrol to take care of the rest of the group while he comes after me.

"Sam, be careful."

"Okay," I say, my speed surging as I close in on the suspect.

He exits the park, and I follow, because it'll be difficult to keep people safe if he gets to the main street, but I'm glad when he enters an alley. I slow down because I don't want to be unprepared. But, at the same time, I don't want to lose him and have someone killed because I didn't do my job.

My hands are trembling, and I'm sweating profusely. The sounds of my breathing and the beating of my heart are like a thunderstorm in my ears, making me unable to hear almost everything around me.

I listen carefully, seeing if I can hear footsteps, but an eerie silence has descended on this part of the city. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and move forward. I take a step inside the alley, making sure to look right and left. I take another, and then another, moving further into the dark street, ensuring I don't make any noise. I'm sure he's hiding here, and I don't want to be caught by surprise.

"Sam." Adrian's low voice reaches me and gives me courage. It has been dripping away from me since I started the crazy pursuit of the knife man.

"Here," I whisper, and for a split second, turn back towards the entrance to check if Adrian is close.

"Sam!" Adrian's scream makes me jump and whip my head forward to see what's happening in front of me.

I freeze, unable to move, and watch, like I'm in a trance, as the man raises his hand and quickly brings it down. I close my eyes, expecting the knife to pierce me. Instead, I'm hit by something and crash to the ground, hitting my head in the process. The pain and ringing in my brain and ears make me nauseous, but I force my eyes open. The poor light nearly makes me sick.

A weight is on top of me, and through blurry eyes, I recognise Adrian. I look around to locate the assailant, but I can't see him anywhere. My attention goes back to Adrian, still on top of me and with his eyes closed. What gets to me is his breathing, fast and pained.

I look around again, checking to see if the knife man is still here, but it's only me and my mentor.

"Adrian?" I say, but he doesn't move. I touch his shoulder, but he doesn't reply, and when I pull my hand back, it's drenched with blood.

"Ten fifty-two," I scream into the radio. "Officer down. Please be quick," I plead with them. I don't even know if they reply to me, because my all focus is on Adrian.

I pull myself out from underneath him and then check to see where the blood is coming from. We've done first aid training, but I think this is above anything I've trained for. Adrian's breathing is becoming fainter, and the pool of blood beneath him is growing bigger by the second.

I use all my strength to tear the clothes at the knife's entrance point so I can work on it. I try to put pressure on the stab wound, but the blood won't stop. I pray to all the saints to make the ambulance come as fast as possible, and I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the sirens growing closer.

"Lucy, Daniel." Adrian's voice is full of regret, and my eyes fill with tears.

What the fuck did I do? It's my fault he's here, bleeding on the ground. I should be the one on the floor dying.

"Sam . . ."

Adrian's voice is so low, I need to lean in until my ear is close to his mouth. Tears run down my face while I try to keep pressure on his wound.

"Don't talk. They're going to be here soon," I say, looking down at his now-green face, noticing how much bigger the pool of blood is, and how my knees are now soaked in it.

"Sam," he says again, and this time I listen. "Take care . . . Lucy, Daniel . . ." His eyes close and his breathing stops.

I turn him around and start compressions, as they taught us on the course.

I don't hear the paramedics, but I find myself pulled up and moved away, watching as they work on him, and all the while, Adrian never regains consciousness.

I watch them put him on the stretcher and then rush around to get him into the ambulance. I watch them drive away, the sound of the sirens filling my body, and that's when my legs give way and I fall to the ground like a thousand bricks.

My surroundings get darker, until my vision is gone, and my consciousness with it.

"Sam?" Rory's voice overlaps with Adrian's and the request he made the day he died.

I haven't fully kept my promise because I haven't been able to face Lucy and Daniel.

"Oh, God, Sam. I'm so sorry." Rory wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I slump against him, looking for the support he's so easily giving me.

"I haven't been able to go see them. Or go see him." I bury my face in Rory's chest, ashamed by my lack of courage. Ashamed to have walked away. Ashamed to have stayed on the force even after what I'd done, because it was the only thing I could do to redeem myself.

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. You were only trying to do your job."

"I should have been better. I should have been able to move past my fear. I shouldn't have placed Adrian in danger. Or myself."

"Sam." Rory's voice is hard and commanding. "You did what you thought was right. You tried to save other people's lives."

"But Adrian lost his."

"Yes, he did, love. However, it's not your fault. The one to blame is the guy using the knife. He's the only person responsible for what happened."

I'm silent for a long time, not fully convinced by Rory's words. I can't shake the guilt for the choices I made that day. Guilt for freezing, guilt for following the perpetrator and placing myself in danger, and guilt for killing Adrian, even if indirectly.

"He used his body to protect me. It should have been me. I didn't have anyone. I was alone, and he had a family. It should have been me."

Rory's hands grab my biceps and shake me like I weigh nothing. "Never say that again." His eyes are dark and full of sympathy. "Don't you ever say something like that again. Please."

His last words break me and the tears I never shed for Adrian, for myself, and for what happened that day, all come to me in a rush. I cry myself tired, resting my forehead on Rory's chest, while his arms keep me safe and warm. His soothing words, while indecipherable over my loud breathing and sobs, still do the job of giving me hope.

"Everything is fine, love." He keeps repeating it. His calling me ‘love' makes my heart sing, even at this moment when I'm broken to my core.

"I'm here anytime you need me. However, I believe you should talk to people who can help you move past your trauma and put things into perspective. People who can help you understand it's not your fault and that what happened was an accident."

I nod against his chest. Maybe he's right and talking to someone could help.

"You must have been important to Adrian. He gave his life to protect yours. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, or put yourself in danger, like you do, to protect others. Your life is precious, and you should work on making yourself happy."

I nod again. How do I do that, though?

"Will you come with me when I go talk to Lucy and Daniel? When I see Adrian?"

"Sure, love." His reply makes me feel light and a seed of hope sprouts inside me.

"I like when you call me love," I say, and my face burns with the fire of my blush.

"I like calling you love," he says with a smirk.

I know he's trying to lighten the mood, and I'm glad for it. I need time to think, time to accept what happened, and time to accept that maybe it's not all my fault. I can't believe Rory is still here, that he supported me instead of branding me a murderer. I also can't believe he called me ‘love.'

Is there really hope for me to have a good life? To move past what happened that day? To face Lucy and Daniel? That thought still has me breaking into chills, but maybe, just maybe, Rory's presence will help me be strong and scale over the mountain of guilt inside me. A mountain that keeps me anchored to the past, a mountain that prevents me from seeing past my faults.

Maybe there is hope for me.