Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
‘Annie, can you hear me?’
I feel his touch on the tips of my fingers and force my eyes to open, my head resting comfortably to the side. Jack pulls the chair closer to the bed and perches on the edge, leaning forward to take my hand in both of his, squeezing gently.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he whispers, his expression harbouring all kinds of trepidation. It doesn’t matter how terrible he looks. I’d put money on the fact that I look worse. I flex my hand a little in his, my way of replying, and he smiles, his lips trembling as he exhales deeply and drops his forehead to our cluster of hands on the bed.
I stare at the back of his head for an age, building up my strength to speak, soothed by the relief from pain that the morphine delivers. ‘J . . . ack.’ His name comes out of my mouth jagged and broken, and I find myself able to lift my head a little, now that the pain isn’t hindering my movement.
His own head whips up considerably faster than mine. ‘Don’t move, baby,’ he rushes to say, gently pushing my head back down to the pillow. ‘Don’t move.’
‘I’m stiff,’ I complain, feeling like I need to crack every bone in my body into place, especially in my hips.
‘You mustn’t move.’ Jack faffs with my pillow, not really making much difference, but I let him tend to me nevertheless.
My arm feels like lead, and I look down to find it concealed in a cast, from the tips of my fingers to the very top of my arm. It’s ramrod straight. I look at Jack, who’s watching me assess my injury. Or one of them. His bristly face is close and straight, his grey eyes cloudy. He drops the most delicate kiss on the corner of my mouth, and I manage a small smile.
‘Better?’ he asks, scanning my face for any sign of discomfort.
I nod. ‘How are you?’ I ask, watching as he more or less plummets back to the chair, leaning in and resting his forearms on the bed, his hand holding mine.
He huffs a short, quiet puff of amusement. ‘Don’t ask me how I am when you’re lying here looking like you’ve been run over by a bus.’
‘It was a car, wasn’t it?’ I reply simply and emotionlessly, making Jack pull up in his chair.
‘You remember?’
‘Who was driving?’
He starts patting at the bedding around my thighs, avoiding my eyes. ‘Let’s not do this now.’ He’s trying to avoid the conversation that we’re going to have to have at some point, but I’d rather just get it done with. ‘For now we focus on getting you well.’
‘It was her, wasn’t it?’ I don’t mean to allow emotion into my voice, and I wholeheartedly hate myself for letting it, because Jack’s face is a picture of pure misery as a result.
‘She was arrested at the scene,’ he whispers. I look away, my lips pressing together to stop the cries of devastation from escaping and crippling him even more. ‘She said she didn’t see you in the road.’
‘She saw me,’ I say quietly, looking down at my tummy, not wanting to ask the question that’s most important to me. Jack’s hand appears in my downcast vision, coming to rest lightly over the bedcovers on my stomach. I look at him, my eyes brimming with tears that are ready to tumble. ‘Our baby?’ I murmur, my hand coming to lie atop his, hoping and praying that my battered body protected our unborn child. ‘Please tell me our baby is okay.’
Tears begin to stream down Jack’s cheeks as he shakes his head. And my heart breaks clean in two. ‘I can’t.’ He swallows, his handsome face distorting with grief. ‘I can’t, Annie. I’m sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
A ragged sob rips through me, my broken body jerking as a result. I’m in agony. ‘No,’ I whimper, my eyes bursting with tears, encouraging more from Jack. ‘No.’ My body begins to spasm uncontrollably, my world exploding into a haze of devastation. ‘No, no, no!’
Jack shoots up from his chair and bends his body over the bed, getting as close to me as he can to comfort me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he sobs, trying desperately to console me as we cry in each other’s arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I shake my head, not prepared to accept it, hiding my face in his neck. ‘She killed our baby.’
Jack doesn’t say anything more – no apologies, no attempts to calm me. All he has the energy left to do is hug me and cry his heart out along with me.
The darkness returns, and so does the pain. But now it’s agony. She tried to kill me and she succeeded in killing our baby. This is my penance. For all of the wrong decisions I have made, for touching the forbidden, this is the ultimate punishment.