Chapter Fifteen

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   The sound of distant sirens broke me out of my state of complete shock. Gabriel’s back was to me and Harry was looking at me over his shoulder, his ghostly face haunting me. It took him a while to recognize the blaring sirens and panic flashed through his eyes. A sadistic smile twitched at the edge of his lips and he held up his hands, silky red, sparkling in the dimly lit kitchen. 

   “I don’t want them to catch me red handed,” Harry winked, taking a step around Gabriel, leaning in closer to me. I jumped back in fright and he snapped his teeth at me, letting out a deranged laugh before heading towards the front door, slipping out into the night, disappearing once more. I turned back to Gabriel, biting my lip anxiously. 

   “Gabriel?” I asked softly, my voice quivering. “Gabriel?” I repeated. His breathing was heavy and irregular and as I rested my hand on his shoulder, his muscle’s tensed in response. 

   “I’m right here, Jia,” he whispered, his voice strained. 

   “W-w-what, what’s happened?” I stuttered, trying my best not to fear the worst. He fell back all of a sudden, against the fridge, lowering himself slowly down to the ground, extending his legs out in front of him. 

   “You need to call 911,” he took a deep, long breath, clutching his hands to his stomach. 

   “Gabriel, what happened, you’re scaring me?” I tried to hold back the tears, collapsing down besides him, kneeling at his side. “Oh my God,” I gasped, placing my hand against his stomach and feeling his flinch beneath my touch. 

   “It’s just a scratch,” he uttered, but I could feel his stomach muscles completely strained as he fought against the pain radiating from his abdomen. 

   “It is not a fucking scratch, Gabes,” I said, my throat clenching as I rang the emergency services again, this time asking for an ambulance. They said that they would get there as soon as they could, but what if soon was not soon enough? What then? Tears escaped and ran over my flustered cheeks, my hair sticking to my face in dank strands. 

   “I’m fine, Jia,” he managed a small smile and I laughed hopelessly. 

   “Don’t be a martyr,” I begged, stroking my hand across his forearm, trying to distract away from the agonizing pain that my psychotic ex boyfriend had inflicted on him. This was all my fault and although I didn’t want to be thinking about this as Gabriel was bleeding half to death, I couldn’t help it. If I had never come back to this place, this would not have happened. 

   “Should I pull it out?” He turned to me, grimacing as he took each breath. The knife was still protruding from his stomach, and the blood stain was slowly spreading across his white t-shirt. 

   “I don’t know,” I admitted. 

   “In those TV shows they always pull it out.” 

   “In those TV shows they always die.” 

   “We’re not in a TV show.” 

   “But I don’t want you dying on me,” I exhaled and he stayed silent for a little while, as we both reflected on the fact that this was a possibility, if the paramedics did not get here soon, if he lost too much blood. 

   “I’m not going to do die,” he assured me, showing me another one of his crooked smiles. More tears began to fall over my cheeks and I leant over him, my tears falling onto his smooth, tanned skin. “I promise you, Jia,” he kissed my forehead and I let out a silent sob, my chest heaving. 

   “I can’t believe that arsehole did this to you,” I cried. 

   “It’s not your fault.” 

   “Of course it’s my fucking fault, Gabes! He was my problem, my fucking boyfriend!” I shouted through tears. 

   “Shhh,” his soothing voice immediately quieting me down. I sat back down besides him, leaning against the stainless steel fridge doors. “I think we should pull it out,” he said finally. 

   “Are you sure?” I grimaced. 

   “Yes,” he nodded confidently, biting down on his bottom lip. “You have to do it though, and get something to put pressure on it after.” 

   “Okay,” I agreed, standing and grabbing a clean dish towel from across the kitchen, crouching down besides him. “Are you positive?” I said again, fastening my hand firmly around the shaft of the knife, taking a deep breath. 

   “Yeah,” he was was clenching his jaw in anticipation, “but do it quickly.” 

   I looked at him, at his pain stricken face, and gripped both my hands around the plastic handle, using all the strength I could muster to pull the knife from his flesh. As it shift, Gabriel let out a torturous scream and I started to cry harder, the tears dripping off my quivering jawline. 

   “I’m sorry,” I dropped the knife down on the floor. 

   “Put the pressure on,” he said and I took the dish towel, pushing it against the wound. “Shit!” Gabes seethed, and I held the towel with one hand, brushing my fingers through his hair with the other, over his clammy forehead. He breathed deeply and I could feel a sense of relief. “That feels a lot better,” he nodded slowly, beginning to close his eyes. 

   “Stay awake, Gabriel,” I begged. 

   “I’ll try,” he half smiled at me and his eyes flickered open. “I’ll be okay, won’t I?” 

   “Of course, my darling,” I put on a smile, just for him, and his eyes closed again. 

   “I bet I look hot right now,” he whispered, making me giggle helplessly, as I stroked my fingers across his cheek. 

   I watched him as he slept, as I prayed he would not lose consciousness. He continued to bleed out across my kitchen floor and the sirens seemed too far away. I loved him so much and I hated myself for doing this to him. I did not believe in God, or religion, but if there was a God, I prayed to him then, because nothing would hurt me more than if he was to be taken from me. I think Harry knew this, and coming to my house tonight had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with my angel Gabriel. 

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