Under My Skin

Part Twenty Five

A/N - Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Will try and get the next couple fo chapters out in the next few days. Much apologies, especially as I left you all on a cliff hanger.

Chapter Twenty Five

The heat from the building was immense, Marc could barely look in the direction of the flames, his face burned, his eyes stung, but with an arm raised in front of her eyes, he battled to get close to the building. There was another crash, another ball of flames flew into the air, Marc hesitated, his heart pounding, his chest heaving, pain lancing his body. And then he saw movement, the door in front of him swung open, and he stood still, gaping open mouthed for a moment as Isobel emerged, white shirt flapping open revealing her naked body, torn skirt hanging from her waist, barefoot, hair matted to her head. But she was running...of a fashion, if he hadn’t been so desperate, so worried he’d have laughed at her lolloping cumbersome gait, instead his heart soared.

Then he shook himself as adrenaline kicked in once more, it was dangerous, SHE was in danger. Covering the distance to Isobel all he knew was he had to reach her. He ignored he intense heat still burning at his face, he just had to reach her. As he got closer he gasped as he realised her skirt was on fire, in a blind panic he reached for her and smothered her, extinguishing the flames with his body. As the flames subsided, he sighed with desperate relief then scooped her into his arms and turned, just as firemen and paramedics were running towards her.

Isobel was so tired, the adrenaline that had got her out of the building, that had helped her to fight Richard, to escape at the last moment as the building exploded behind her, evaporated in an instant. She felt like she was treading water, she was trying to run, but nothing was happening.  She wasn’t moving.  Then she saw Marc in front of her, running towards her. Tears came as she looked up at his face for a moment, the only clear image in the foggy smoky dark world around her. She couldn’t believe he was there. For a moment she wondered if this was death. Had she died and this was what came next? An illusion.

All she remembered was the petrol, the smell, the sting of it hitting her skin...then flames. But suddenly the vision smelled like Marc, her head rested against his chest and she could feel the erratic pounding of his heart. She couldn’t be dead, could she? As her eyes closed there was no chance of her deciphering anything else...

Marc sat beside her bed, looking down at her, willing her, begging her to open her eyes, he just wanted a gesture that she was going to be ok. When he’d strode across the clearing with her in his arms he’d felt extreme relief almost  joy, she was alive, paramedics were taking her within seconds, but by that time Isobel was a limp rag not responding to anything. She hadn’t since. Now at her bedside, once everyone was working on her, rushing to treat her, he had nothing to do but think...pray. He wasn’t a religious man, but he hoped that someone, anyone heard his pleas and helped save her.

Now it was quiet, now things were ‘stable’,  he had nothing to do but sit and wait, and watch, and count the seconds as the hand ticked on the clock in the corner of the room, he realised that he’d never known despair like this.

A nurse offered him a cup of coffee, but it tasted like petrol, but then everything smelled of it, his skin, his clothes, everything. Glancing at the bed he surveyed her broken body for the umpteenth time, bandages to her head and half her face compressed a large wound, the doctors surmised that she’d been hit with a large blunt object. Then there were the burns to one side of her neck and shoulder, they’d been dressed, and may need skin grafting. It depended on how they healed the next couple of days. Her right leg was splinted up to the thigh; she’d had a deep wound debrided from her thigh earlier in the day, again the doctors were waiting to see how she healed. Each new injury each revelation from the doctors, the police, the fire investigators caused him fresh pain. This was all his fault.