What Goes Around...

Part Thirty

Chapter Thirty

He'd never known pain like it, and he'd had SO many injuries when he was playing, his big knee injury had been horrendous, but as he sat with an ice pack over his temple, Coop wondered if it would ever ease. The throb was taking over his concentration and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. But there were four police officers sat in his lounge, and a rather distraught woman beside him who needed him awake and alert.

He felt his eyes close, but a gentle nudge in the ribs from his right made him turn and open them again.

"If you go to sleep they'll make you go into hospital, and you don't want that..." And neither do I. He could hear the unspoken words. She was terrified, that much was obvious, she was shaking, she had been since she'd slumped beside him in the bathroom. And he'd wanted to protect her from that moment, and he couldn't do it if he was unconscious.

Squeezing her hand he sat forward, "are we nearly done here? I mean we're both shattered, and it's been a horrendous day."

One of the officers nodded sympathetically, "we're just waiting on some photo ID to issue with the BOLO alert."

"Do you think he'll come back?" Freya's voice shocked him; it was so hoarse with emotion.

He squeezed her hand again, "if he does, we're locked in here, we're safe, ok?"

"You'll let me stay here?"

He laughed, "I am not letting you out of my sight until I know that bastard is locked up. You hear that?"

She smiled with relief, with gratitude, with everything, and it made him feel ten feet tall. "The thought of going back in there..." She shuddered.

"You can stay here as long as you need to, and DEFINITELY until HE is caught, that is non-negotiable."

She was still smiling up at him as he turned back to the officers.

An hour later they were done. They were instructed to lock themselves in, whilst Simon wasn't a risk at first glance, he had caused significant damage to Coop's head, and ransacked Freya's home. He was pushed, troubled, and who knew what that would lead to. Coop didn't want her to know that he was worried. But he was. His head hurt, he wanted to sleep, but he was petrified that he'd sleep too deeply and not be awake to look after Freya. He was the only one who COULD look after her. Would Oscar do a better job? He'd probably not have had a clout to the head, that was sure.

He saw the officers out, hearing their reassurance that they would be observed overnight and feedback in the morning. He saw the unmarked car across the road and felt a little relief at that. Saying goodbye, he turned back to face the lounge, and saw Freya stood near the breakfast bar, playing manically with the edge of her t-shirt with nervous fingers.

"You ok? I've locked us in."

She gave a small smile, "better the devil you know..."

He laughed, "so all it took was some psychotic nutcase rampaging to make me look good?"

He meant it in humour, but her face visibly paled, "I'm sorry...this...it's all my fault..."

Coop rushed over to her, "don't be stupid, I am not blaming you, it's NOT your fault. He is crazy, ok? He is the one who's done all this."

Despite nodding in agreement, tears rolled down her cheeks, "why can't they find him?"

"Because he's hiding somewhere. Because he's wrong, because he's crazy, and because he's lost the plot. Ok? Don't think differently, ok?"