Five Fights (The Game of Life Novella Series Book 5)

by Belle Brooks

  Cruise places his finger to his lips with one hand while he continues to cover my mouth with the other.

  “We are unarmed,” he whispers against my cheek.

  I don’t give a shit that we’re unarmed. I don’t give a shit if I die, as long as Morgan doesn’t, and Cruise is here to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  I bite his hand. He shows his teeth as he traps the bark I know he wants to let out behind them.

  “For me. Do this for me,” I mouth.

  Cruise nods.

  “If it’s Morgan on the other side of this hill, you save her, you hear me? Get her out of here and don’t look back,” I say in a strained whisper.

  Cruise nods. “I’ll save her. Promise.”

  “Get off me.”

  “We move slowly, okay? Until we can get a visual.”

  “Okay.”

  We both stalk in approach. I have no idea what we’re about to face when we climb over the huge overgrown hill in front of us, but if Morgan is on the other side, together, we can save her.

  Morgan

  I spit into Logan’s face. He stands abruptly, hovering above me and wiping the saliva from his cheek.

  “Fuck you,” I sneer, kicking my leg upright into his groin. His face reddens as he crumbles. I roll out of the way of his falling limbs.

  Run, Morgan. NOW!

  I pull my protesting body upright and begin stumbling back toward the incline, my legs pumping, pounding hard against the earth.

  “Help! Somebody please. Help!” I scream.

  It takes mere seconds until my head is flung backwards. A clump of my hair tugged hard. My body follows. He drags me down. I try to twist away. He readjusts his grip and pulls my splayed and aching body along the ground. A huffed sound expels from my lips. I lie there, gasping, when he again straddles my waist.

  “No. Fuck you, Morgan.” He smiles, with his hands grasping either side of my lengthened neck, before he applies pressure to my throat. “You will die like Falcon. He hung himself, you bitch, and you’ll face the same strangling death.”

  His hands tighten, choking me. I can feel the blood pooling in my face as I desperately scratch at his arms. Colours dance in front of my eyes as my vision is obscured, all bar his eyes. I can’t breathe. I’m dying.

  “Morgan. Nooooooo!” The roar of my name pounds in my head before the crazed eyes that bore down at me disappear. Strong hands remain firm, pressing harder into my neck. My head spins, then fogs. Black. Everything turns black.

  I gasp frantically. I scratch at my neck. My mouth is wide. Get off me. Get off me.

  “Run, Morgan. Run.” Pure urgency comes with these words.

  I can’t run. I’m trying to get Logan off me, but soon I realise he’s no longer on me at all. I roll onto my side until I flip onto my stomach. My cheek digs into the ground. I draw one loud, gurgling breath before darkness swallows me.

  I hear scuffling, but I can’t open my eyes.

  “You need to run, Morgan. Get Morgan. Get Morgan.” Reid.

  Thump!

  I flick my eyelids open. Two blurred objects roll in my direction.

  “Move, Morgan! Go!” More words are yelled at me. “Get Morgan. Get her out of here.”

  I cry hearing the voice of my husband yelling.

  “Reid.” I make no sound.

  Relief washes over me before it’s replaced with a gut-wrenching panic. Is my husband now in the hands of the wolf?

  Reid

  “Cruise, get Morgan out of here.” I’m desperate as I’m pulled under the shirtless man who I saw strangling my wife.

  “I can’t leave you,” Cruise yells.

  Fuck!

  Blue eyes, light blond stubble, and hair—it’s Greg, the reporter who came into our home and conducted an interview about the disappearance of Morgan.

  “You fucking prick.” I swing my fist only to wince from the pain shooting up my side.

  He spits in my face before he jerks away from me. I jump to my feet, clutching again at my side, just in time to see his fist connect with Cruise’s jaw.

  “I’m going to kill you.” I throw myself at Greg who towers over Cruise with his chest puffed out. My head turns as wide as the arm swinging towards it, but I manage to duck quickly as I suck air in through my teeth.

  Bang! Bang!

  Two loud gunshots fill the air. I still.

  So does he.

  “Get on the ground and put your motherfucking hands behind your back.” Cruise’s tone is not laced with fear. Instead, it’s full of control and confidence.

  I look in his direction, briefly, just long enough to see the rifle he has pointed into the sky. “Do it now.”

  Where did he get a rifle from?

  Sirens sound, and as they do, white flashes of anger make me growl like a tiger about to devour his prey. I whip my head and watch as Greg lowers himself until he’s perched on his knees.

  “Holy shit, Reid, you’re bleeding. You’re bleeding.”

  “Get Morgan out of here. Leave this to me,” I yell.

  “No. Brother, you’re bleeding from your stomach.”

  I turn my eyes downwards. There’s a slash in my T-shirt. Blood covers the material surrounding it. I look to the ground. There’s a knife with blood staining its blade. The fucker cut me.

  “We walk out of here together.” Cruise is stoic in the way he says this.

  I take two steps towards Greg, whose eyes connect with mine. I grind my teeth as I swing my leg backwards and then kick it straight into his jaw. He falls onto his back from the force. I pant as another rip-roaring pain splits my side. “He leaves in a body bag.”

  “No,” Cruise barks. “I have a gun to protect us, and the cops are coming.”

  I hover over Greg. Blood drips from his lip. He launches himself upright, so I drop onto my knees until my weight presses against his chest, knowing full well Cruise won’t shoot me. I mimic the position I found this pig in when I came racing towards him and he was on top of my wife.

  I shift my eyes to Morgan who lies on her stomach, with one side of her bloated, bloodied face dug into the earth. Her eyes are sealed shut. Her hair is matted and singed. She’s not moving, or speaking, or reacting. A tear rolls from the corner of my eye and skirts my cheek.

  This bastard is leaving here in a body bag.

  Greg swings his fist, but I pull my head back in time. Without thought I wrap my fingers around either side of his thick neck.

  “Reid. Let him go. Get off him.”

  I can hear Cruise’s panic. However, I feel none. I’m completely void of thought or sensation.

  A blast of gunfire sounds. I don’t even jolt.

  With all my might, I drive my weight against Greg’s airway. His eyes bulge from the immediate pressure. His face quickly fills with blood and becomes the shade of a ripened cherry. I glare at him through animalistic eyes. I want his last breath. I want him to pay for what he’s done.

  “Reid. Get off him.” This time it’s not my brother who demands this of me, it’s Constable Max Maloney.

  I don’t search for him. I don’t shift my position either. Instead, I keep my eyes glued to the man who has tortured and maimed my wife. Morgan’s beaten and bruised, lying lifeless on the ground not far from me, and the sight of her has me picturing a woman I met laid out on a table inside the Rockhampton morgue. This man is a murderer. A torturer. A villain. He’s worthless and shouldn’t get the privilege of life. I must take his life to save others. To get justice.

  “Get on the ground, Reid, and place your hands behind your head. Do it now.” Maloney’s wasting his breath. I’m not leaving here alive, not if Greg does.

  “RK-147, we need all units. All units.” Dusty. I recognise his voice immediately. “We’ve found Morgan Banks. We need all units.”

  An anger I’ve never known swirls in the pit of my stomach, forcing itself into my heart before exploding through my lips in a tortured sound.

  He gargles. He’s trying to pry my fingers from his t
hroat, but I keep forcing my weight down until I no longer feel Greg’s chest rising beneath my legs.

  “Cruise, drop the rifle. Reid, get off him, and get on the ground or I’ll shoot,” Max shouts.

  Another gargling sound exits Greg’s throat, and then his body falls limp beneath me.

  Pride warms my skin, and as I slowly release my grip, I breathe. It strikes me like a harsh spark of electricity that I can’t remember taking a single breath while I strangled the devil now lying motionless.

  “Reid. Get on the ground and put your hands behind your head.” Maloney is shouting so loudly it beats across my brow.

  I hear his instruction and lift my body until I reposition myself, kneeling on the ground beside Greg. He doesn’t move. His chest doesn’t rise.

  I killed him. He’s dead. And I feel calm.

  I place one hand, two hands to the back of my head, linking my fingers, and I breathe like a weight I’ve been carrying for days, one too heavy to carry in the first place, has been lifted from my shoulders.

  “What have you done?” The worry in Max’s tone doesn’t extinguish the pride that fills my core. An eye for an eye. He had to pay. I made him pay. I’ve no guilt, no remorse burdening me. I’m free.

  Heavy footsteps approach from behind. I don’t look in that direction. Instead, I shift my eyes to my wife lying unmoving on the ground. I defended my family and got revenge for Morgan, and for the woman who laid in that morgue, unrecognisable. I’m not a sinner. I’m a saviour. I did the right thing.

  A weak cough has my eyes widening.

  “Morgan, open your eyes.” Cruise kneels down behind her. He gently brushes her cheek with the back of his hand.

  She coughs again.

  My heart sprints. My head whirls. Morgan’s alive.

  “She’s breathing.” Cruise isn’t facing me when he says this. He’s looking past me. Why isn’t he looking at me?

  My heart launches into the back of my throat. My body trembles. Tears flood my face. “Morgan.”

  “Try not to touch her, Cruise. The ambulance is en route.”

  Dusty steps into view. He’s dressed in full police uniform as he crouches down beside Morgan and places two fingers against her neck. He’s quick to snatch them back when a blood-piercing scream escapes her throat. The noise she makes has my body shuddering.

  “Don’t. You’re scaring her,” I bark, panicked.

  Again, Dusty moves his hand to touch her neck.

  “Leave her alone.” I drop my arms and crawl towards her.

  “Put your hands behind your head.” Maloney’s pissed. “I will shoot you.”

  I halt.

  “Reid.” It’s barely audible, but I hear Morgan call my name.

  I crook my neck and search for Maloney behind me. “Please,” I mouth.

  He shakes his head. His pistol is aimed right at me. “Lay on the ground.”

  Morgan coughs once more, and then she cries. It’s a cry filled with pain, fear, and desperation. I want to hold her. I’m helpless.

  “Reid, please, just do what he says. I’ve got her. I’m right here. I won’t leave her, brother.”

  Silent tears rush from my eyes as I lie until my chest and my cheek press against the ground. I keep my head turned towards Morgan’s face. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are peeled, cut and swollen. Blood covers her skin.

  “I’m here, baby,” I speak softly so as not to startle her. What have I done? Sliding my hand through the leaves, I wince, but continue to extend it as far as I can. I’m still quite a way from being able to touch Morgan.

  “Reid Banks, you’re under arrest. Put your hands behind your back.”

  “No,” I mumble, keeping my arm right where it is. “Sorry, Max. I can’t.”

  Morgan’s eyes shoot open. They’re no longer the chestnut I once admired. They’re washed of colour, a horrible honey with grey hues.

  “I won’t leave you again. I promise. I love you.” My lips quiver. My heart thuds.

  She doesn’t say a word. She just stares as tears fill her eyes.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  Morgan closes her eyes.

  “You’re safe. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her eyes spring open again, and the look she delivers me speaks of a thousand horrific tales. I want to erase Morgan’s memory so she never has to remember a moment of what she’s endured.

  “The kids are fine. They’re safe.” I have no idea if this is true, but if Maloney’s here, then they must be. He wouldn’t have left them in harm’s way. Not after the stories he’s shared with me about his own daughter. Leaving my children would go against all Max was trained to do, would go against the oath he took when becoming an officer of the law.

  “The ambulance is coming, Morgan,” Dusty says.

  She squeezes her eyes closed and scrunches her face before trembling.

  “You’re fucking scaring her.” Anger rips through my core. “Get away from her.”

  “I agree.” Cruise’s tone quivers. “You are scaring her.”

  “Back off,” Max orders. “Call dispatch and find out how far the ambulance is from arrival. Also, get them to pass on our coordinates to Detective West. We need back-up. I have them covered.”

  Dusty backs away slowly until I can no longer see him.

  “Let me go to her.” I hold my breath, hoping for a little salvation from Max.

  “You can’t touch her. Everything on her body is evidence, Reid. Hell, you’re fucking evidence now.”

  “She’s a human being who’s hurt. Don’t make her hurt alone.”

  “Fuck,” he curses.

  “Please,” I beg as I watch Cruise stroke Morgan’s cheek with the back of his hand.

  “It’s Cruise, Morgan. I’m right behind you.”

  She opens her eyes.

  “Max.” I raise my voice, and Morgan jumps.

  “Okay. Just try not to touch her too much.” I see the conflict in Max’s expression.

  Inch by inch, I slide my body across the leaves. I trap my need to groan behind my teeth. An intense sting slices my stomach over and over.

  I stop when our faces sit just a few centimetres from each other. “Hey, baby.” I lift my hand and take the place of my brother, stroking her cheek. “Help is on the way. You can rest now. You’re safe.”

  Her eyelashes flicker before her eyes close.

  Morgan

  I’m swallowed by darkness, but I fight. I fight to keep my eyes open, and when I’m met with tears streaming down my husband’s cheeks, I know I’ve won again.

  In my mind, I’m speaking. I’m yelling. I’m telling him I hurt so bad I can’t stand it a minute longer. But I can’t manage to get those words to travel from my brain and connect with my lips.

  His fingers brush against my skin, back and forth, back and forth. I can feel Reid’s touch, but I can’t respond. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. I’ve no control. I’m as heavy as lead.

  “You’re safe, Morgan. Help is coming. I’m here.” There’s so much fear in Reid’s words, and although I know I’m not alone in this bushland, I don’t believe I’m really safe.

  I jolt when the dirt below me suddenly feels as if it’s falling away. I reach out my arm and grab onto Reid to stop myself from falling, or so I think. My arm hasn’t moved at all and I remain paralysed.

  Panic rockets through each of my nerve endings. The ground continues to tug away. I’m falling, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Is Reid falling too? Help! Help!

  My heart races. My stomach sinks and then I hear one intense beat of my heart in my head. I take a breath. I listen for my heartbeat. I can’t hear it beating. I can’t feel it beating either.

  Reid fades away, and then he disappears altogether. A white light fills the space he took in front of me. I’m no longer in pain or consumed with fear. I’m as light as a feather.

  And finally, a sensation of peace washes over me.

 
I’m free.

  Reid

  Maloney keeps Morgan’s chin pointed upwards and her nose pinched. Cruise cups one hand on top of the other and commences pounding on Morgan’s chest.

  “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.” Cruise is huffing when he straightens.

  Maloney closes his mouth around Morgan’s and breathes. I watch as her chest rises and then falls.

  “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.” Cruise counts for the seventh time. He’s sweating and puffing excessively.

  Maloney again places his mouth over Morgan’s and breathes for her. “Come on, Morgan,” he roars.

  I watch her chest rise and then fall.

  Cruise places his ear to Morgan’s chest. “No heartbeat.” He repositions his hands. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.” Cruise stops counting, but he doesn’t stop compressing Morgan’s chest. “Thirty.” He falls back on his heels.

  Maloney leans in, closes his mouth over Morgan’s, and again delivers his breath to her.

  “Fucking breathe. Breathe, Morgan.” I’m desperate. I can’t take it a minute more. Why has her heart stopped beating? Why isn’t she breathing?

  Sirens wail. The roar of motorbikes has me shooting my vision towards the bushland. Men wearing black police vests race towards us.

  “Help is here,” I shout.

  Within the blink of an eye, officers, and then paramedics appear. Morgan’s still not breathing, but at least now we have help.

  Don’t let go, Morgan. Fight. You’re almost home.

  Reid

  “It’s just a flesh wound. You’ll need to have these stitches removed in ten days.” The curly-haired doctor, old enough to be my grandfather, says.