Inescapable Fate: Hanleigh's London (The Fate Series Book 1)

by Hanleigh Bradley

  My arm is screaming at the pain of his forceful grip.

  I can feel the cool steel of the blade. I can see the fear etched across Trent’s face, although he’s doing his best to hide it.

  “It’s okay,” he says in a voice that somehow calms all my nerves. “Just let her go.”

  I can’t see the guy behind me, but I know he’s edgy. The blade is shaking gently against my skin.

  I wonder if I can disarm him myself.

  One hook of my leg behind his knee and I would be able to bring him down. I’d probably get hurt in the process though. Trent glances at me and his eyes seem to tell me to stay still, don’t move or speak. He’s got this.

  Except, I don’t think he has.

  It’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s that I know not to trust the guy behind me. Anyone brandishing a weapon is unpredictable. What’s more, history has taught me that the only person you can trust in a tough spot is yourself.

  Just as I’m about to make my move, the guy behind me removes the knife from my throat and I think for the quickest of seconds that I might just be safe and free, except within a flash of movement that very same blade is thrust into my side and pulled right back out again. My knees buckle, and I find myself falling to the ground.

  The perp makes a run for it.

  Trent looks uncertain, as if he can’t decide between coming to my rescue and chasing him down.

  There’s no choice; there’s only the job. I tell him to go.

  “Run!”

  We have to catch him. That’s why we’re here.

  I’m bleeding but we’re in a hospital. I try to pull myself upright but it’s near enough impossible. My vision is a blurry haze. I try to push myself up, but my broken arm can’t take the weight and my wound is gushing now.

  In an ideal world, I’d have been stabbed right next to the emergency alarm, so I could at least call the on-call nurse to my aid. Except this isn’t an ideal world, it’s a world where fate seems to play horrible tricks.

  I won’t give up.

  I try to focus my frazzled mind. The haze turns to black just as I hear voices and feet approaching.

  Chapter Twelve – Walker

  I wake with a jolt.

  “Trent!” The panic in her voice is clear.

  How had she got her hand away without me noticing?

  In the last few nights, I’d felt her every move. Nothing had past my notice.

  I’m out of my chair in seconds but the sight that awaits me is terrifying. Georgia Kentley, the tiny thing that she is and completely unarmed, is trying her best to take on a bloke with wider shoulders than mine.

  Everything inside of me is screaming for her to get the hell away from him.

  I get that it’s the job.

  Heck, I’d be doing exactly the same thing if I was her. But I’m a six-foot-two man; I go to the gym six times a week and I know more types of martial arts than she’s probably had cooked meals.

  Compared to me, she’s a little girl and she’s going to get herself hurt going up against this dick.

  What’s worse is, I’m too far away to stop her.

  I try to distract the guy so Kentley can achieve her aim.

  “You can’t get away. Even if you stab her, you won’t be able to escape.”

  Instead, Kentley is the one caught out and the dick-wad pulls her against his chest, knife to her neck.

  I catch myself seconds before I lunge for him.

  How dare he threaten her?

  In this moment, I’m filled with a hatred I’ve never felt before. I want to destroy him. Fear mixes with hate and I try against all odds to clear my mind. I need a plan. I need to get Kentley out of there without her getting hurt.

  I try to keep my tone steady, calm, almost friendly, as if he isn’t threatening to kill my fake wife.

  “It’s okay. Just let her go.”

  I try to focus my attention on him, ignoring the girl whose very existence in this mess is calling out to me, demanding I save her. One wayward glance tells me that she’s considering her options. With one look I tell her not to. I don’t want her to do anything that could get her hurt, or worse killed.

  She looks calm.

  It’s almost intimidating how calm and collected she appears. Anyone else in her situation would look like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car but not Georgia Kentley.

  I know without hesitation that she’ll disobey me. She’ll act of her own accord.

  She’s the most self-reliant woman I’ve ever met. There’s no way she’s going to wait for me to come rescue her, even if there is only a five-meter difference between us.

  I could stride it in seconds, but I don’t have seconds.

  He slashes that knife away from her throat and I think for the briefest pause that he’s going to make a run for it. He does but not before pushing the blade into her gut.

  For the first time in my career, I’m frozen.

  She’s on the ground and he’s darting for the door. It’s only a second of indecision but it takes me by surprise. I desperately want to drop to my knees and help Kentley, but I know my responsibility lies outside of the ward with the guy who’s currently fleeing.

  She brings me back to my senses with a harsh “RUN!” and I’m out the door and running past the nurses’ station.

  As I pass them, I tell them that Kentley has been stabbed but I don’t stop to watch them run in the opposite direction.

  Keeping my pace, I dart through the corridors after the perp.

  I keep my eyes focused on him. Determined that this time he won’t get away, I clear my mind of everything except his ugly face as I cuff him.

  I’m catching up with him.

  He throws things into my path; trays of hospital equipment, plants, whatever he can get his hands on in the corridors of the hospital. I jump over the debris that lands at my feet and fight not to lose speed.

  He’s almost within my reach when he darts into an open lift.

  I manage to follow him in just as the doors are about to close.

  I’m quick to lunge for the emergency button. The last thing I need is some innocent bystander getting stabbed.

  It’s bad enough that he’s hurt Kentley.

  Don’t think about that now, I tell myself. I can’t afford to think about that or she won’t be the only one with a stab wound.

  I use the exact same tactic that DS Kentley used earlier on him, hooking my foot behind his knee, except this time it works. The only difference between us is that I have the weight to force him into submission. Grabbing for his wrist, I push down on his pressure point, causing him to drop the knife.

  It clatters on the ground.

  I twist his arm behind his back and make a grab for the handcuffs I have had hidden under my hospital gown this whole time.

  “I am arresting you on suspicion of rape and assault with intent to resist arrest. You do not have to say anything, yet it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

  When I’ve finished reading him his rights, I pull him to his feet and press the emergency button once more. The lift lurches back to life. When the doors open the uniformed officers are waiting for us. I give them the suspect and point to the knife, before making a dart for the stairs.

  I need to know how Kentley is.

  I pace back and forth in the small waiting area. My eyes are trained on the door to the operating theatre. I’ve been pacing impatiently for the last hour.

  At some point during that time DCS Kentley and his wife have arrived along with the rest of my team.

  Mrs Kentley is stone faced and furious. The DCS is stoic and completely unyielding. His concern is hidden beneath years of practice. I consider apologising but I don’t know what good it would do or if it would just offend them. After all, I might be her superior officer, but I can’t control the little lioness they call daughter any more than they can.

 
; John has his head in his lap and the rest of the guys look restless. I consider putting them to work. Except I can’t think what they can do. It’s the early hours of the morning; the sun is just rising and my brain is muddled.

  Dr Hewitt breaks our silence a little after eight. It’s good news. Kentley is going to be fine.

  After I hear that, all the doctor’s words jumble into one and my focus is lost. She’s okay. That’s all that really matters. She’s alive. Safe… or as safe as Georgia Kentley, the clumsiest girl I’ve ever met, could possibly be.

  DCS Kentley’s shoulders visibly slump with relief and Mrs Kentley starts ranting, “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind as soon as I see her. Making us worry like this… how dare she?”

  Kentley just chuckles at his wife’s outburst.

  “Now, now dear. All that matters is that she’s okay.”

  “She’ll put me in an early grave with worry,” she carries on her rumbling.

  The next few days move slowly. Kentley is still in the hospital and something inside me feels compelled to visit her, stay by her side and never leave.

  She clearly can’t look after herself.

  Even knowing she is safely wrapped up in the hospital, I imagine all the horrific situations she could land herself in while I’m too far away at the yard to protect her.

  John pops in to visit her on his day off. He even takes her a bunch of flowers from us all. She’ll hate them, the thought makes me snicker. The boys write her a card and ask me to sign it. I sit there with it on my desk for a full twenty minutes, trying to think up what to write.

  Sorry I didn’t manage to prevent you getting hurt... Sorry I couldn’t save you... Sorry I chose to chase him instead of rescuing you…

  No matter how I try to reason with myself, I can’t get rid of the horrid sense of guilt that has filled the pit of my stomach. In the end I settle for a quick get well soon, as if that can possibly say everything I can’t.

  I avoid the hospital.

  I know I should really visit her, I know I want to, except I can’t bring myself to do it.

  DCS Kentley drops into my office on the 5th of January. Georgia has been in the hospital for three days and is apparently hating every moment of it.

  “Is there any paperwork I can take her?” the DCS asks me with a huff that suggests he knows his daughter is ridiculous.

  “No Sir.” I grin. “I’ve done the report already. There’s nothing she needs to do.”

  “Bugger.”

  “She’s bored?” My smirk grows wide.

  “Bored doesn’t describe her… she refuses to sit still for more than two minutes. It’s worse than when she was a toddler.”

  I smile at the idea of a mischievous two-year-old Georgia Kentley. She was probably damn cute as a button.

  “Do you want me to visit her, Sir? Give you and your wife a break?”

  “Would you?” The relief on his face is hilarious. “Don’t get me wrong. She’s had visitors. But she doesn’t listen to anyone. She might listen to you though.”

  “Doubt it, Sir, but I can give it a go.”

  I don’t really want to go to the hospital. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to face her, knowing that I should have saved her. If I’d woken up when I should have, as soon as her hand left mine, I would have too, and she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now. I let her down.

  That afternoon I make my way to the hospital. The DCS has told his wife I’m visiting this afternoon so hopefully she won’t be there.

  That woman scares me.

  I can’t help but wonder if Georgia is like that when she’s angry too. That is not worth imagining.

  Dread fills me as I ride the lift to her floor. The ward is quiet as I stride towards her room. I nod at the nurses. We’d all become pretty good pals over the last few days. One or two give me evils and one even mutters under her breath something about husbands that leave their wives in the hospital being villainous pigs.

  Apparently, no one has informed them that we’re not actually married. I gulp. Better not ask for a cuppa.

  Mrs Kentley is just on her way out as I approach. She gives me a smile that is in complete contrast with the harpy I met not three days ago.

  “Ah Walker,” she beams serenely, “I’m relying on you to make my daughter behave.”

  “Yes Mam,” I respond with a mock solute.

  She waves me goodbye before heading in the direction I’ve just come from. I take a deep breath before opening the door and making my way into the room.

  “Finally come to visit me have you, husband?”

  Kentley winks at me from where she is currently stood, leaning against the window ledge.

  “Why are you out of bed, wife?” I ask through gritted teeth, as I barge across the room, pull her into my arms and force her back into bed.

  “I have to move around,” she complains.

  “Not right now, you don’t.”

  She huffs in response but settles down in her bed, fluffing her pillows behind her.

  “So… tell me. Did they find that Christmas thief?”

  Her eyes light up at the thought of work.

  “Yeah.” I sigh with exasperation.

  “And?” She gives me a look that tells me she thinks I might be slow.

  “And… he was stealing presents for his kids. It’s pretty sad actually. He lost his job and felt bad he couldn’t get his four kids the presents they wanted so he robbed them.”

  “No way.” She’s listening to me as if I’m her favourite person on the planet, although, I know that’s far from the truth. “Any new cases?”

  “Not really…” I mumble.

  “Oh, come on! You have to tell me. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

  “Crazy, huh?” I tease her.

  “My mum is here twenty-four-seven and the list of things I’m not allowed to do seems to grow every minute.”

  “It can’t be that bad.” I grin at her.

  “It is exactly that bad. Please…” she begs me quietly.

  I don’t want to talk about work. I’m not sure why not. Work is the thing we have in common. The only thing we have in common. Or at least it was before we spent almost a week in the hospital together. Now that list has grown considerably.

  “Why don’t we play cards then?” I offer.

  She shakes her head.

  “Don’t want to.”

  “Watch tv?”

  Again, she shakes her head.

  “Will you read to me?” Her voice is timid as if she is convinced I’ll say no.

  “Do you have a book?”

  She shakes her head, pouting gently. She’s adorable. It’s infuriating but she’s actually adorable. Damn it.

  “Good job I’ve got my phone.” I smirk at her. “Move up.”

  I push her hip with my own and sit next to her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. Our week in hospital together completely fucked up our boundaries and I’m making no attempt to try and rectify the damage.

  She doesn’t argue or complain.

  Instead, she allows her head to drop into the crook of my shoulder and closes her eyes. She lets out a heavy breath that makes me wonder if this is what she needs, five minutes to just stop.

  I unlock my phone, open the book app and start reading her a murder mystery novel that I haven’t read yet.

  Chapter Thirteen – Georgia

  These four walls are screaming at me. I’m literally going spare as I pace around my hospital room. My parents are frustrated because I won’t sit still but seriously, do they actually expect me to sit my arse in that chair? And for how bloody long?

  I desperately want to go home.

  Except they won’t let me because my stupid wound is weeping, and they think it’s infected. So instead of going home, I’m sat in this godforsaken hospital, flinging antibiotics down my throat and trying to keep myself entertained without anything to do.

  Nick has visited, along with his little niece Amelia. That half ho
ur was probably the best fun I’ve had since being stabbed.

  I’d thought I was bored when I was here undercover with Trent but at least he kept me sane with all the inane chatter and silly quibbling.

  But he’s not here now. Stuck on my own in this little room, it’s a heck of a lot gloomier.

  The boys from the yard have all visited me and I guess I shouldn’t complain. The stream of guests over the last three days have been anything but lacking.

  Except for Trent.

  He hasn’t visited once.

  I don’t really understand why I’m disappointed. After all we’re not friends. We barely know each other at all. I don’t want to admit it and the words will never escape my mouth, but I sort of miss him.

  When my dad tells me that Trent will be visiting me today, I almost squeal with excitement. It’s an unexplainable, automatic response that I thankfully manage to hold in.

  I’m sat in my hospital bed with my lunch in front of me. My dad is sat reading the paper. He’s come to visit me for an hour or so, so that my mum can take a break. They’ve both apparently forgotten that I’m a grownup who doesn’t need babysitting.

  “That’s nice,” I reply in the most apathetic voice I can muster.

  My dad nods his head sharply.

  “I’m hoping he can get you to sit still for more than five minutes.”

  “Good luck with that,” I mutter.

  Just as my dad is about to respond, there is a knock at the door. We both turn just in time to see Darren Jacks enter my room.

  Shit.

  He is the last person I want to see and what’s more, if I have to see him, I definitely don’t want to have to do it in front of my father. I can almost hear my dad grinding his teeth from where he sits near the window behind me.

  I don’t say anything. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say and I sure as fuck don’t know why he is here.

  “Hi,” he says in a voice devoid of feeling.

  “Hi,” I reply.

  The silence that follows my response is awful. I can almost feel the tension radiating off my father and the awkward expression on Darren’s face isn’t particularly heart-warming. I don’t know why he’s here but I do know that he’s not welcome.