If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 91 - 9.Aug.1967 - 10.Aug.1967

Chapter 91

August 9, 1967 

The cool metal practically burned as it pushed against my skin. Eric's brother Henry latched his other arm around my chest, holding me hostage with his strength.

"I told you to leave," Henry sneered at John from behind me, tightening his hold. "Leave. Or I'll cut her throat. I'll kill her like she killed my brother. Don't think I won't."

I couldn't think, and I didn't dare move a muscle. The blade was one wrong move away from piercing my skin, and it was all too familiar...it wasn't the first time a knife had been pressed against my neck. I tried like hell not to lose myself to the icy terror coursing through my veins. Because if I got swallowed by the past, I most certainly wouldn't have a future.

I stared at John, pleading silently with him to get the fuck out of the room...to get both himself and Maggie to safety. Henry increased the pressure of the blade, pressing it against my windpipe. And I held my breath because if I moved at all or he pressed any harder, he'd break skin. The sound of my heart beating thrashed in my ears as the room closed in on me.

John took one step forward; his unblinking gaze stuck on Henry...on me...on the sharp knife. He opened his mouth and started to talk, but I didn't hear him. The world fell silent as my eyes slipped closed. My lungs burned, desperate for air, and I was running out of time.

I needed to do something.

If John wasn't going to leave the room like I so desperately wanted, then I needed to somehow get out of Henry's grip...because it was only then that John and I might be able to get away. My muscles tensed as I prepared to break free of the tight hold, hoping like hell it wouldn't make things infinitely worse.

Sirens sounded in the distance and hope sparked in my chest. Had John called the police before stepping in to get me away from Eric's deranged brother...or were the sirens just a coincidence?

I opened my eyes and looked at John one final time, needing him to understand, through the desperation in my eyes, what I was about to do. Without hesitating, I grabbed Henry's arm and pushed the blade away from my neck.

My movement caught him off guard...he hadn't expected me to fight. His other arm loosened, and I twisted out of his hold, dipping low as he reached for me again. I shoved my body into his knees, causing him to groan and buckle in pain as the knife tumbled to the floor. Henry stepped forward to regain his balance as I heaved my body away from him and ran toward the door. I reached for John's arm with an outstretched hand, but I only made it three steps before he moved toward Henry...the exact opposite of what I wanted him to do.

We didn't need to fight, we needed to bloody run.

But I didn't have time to look behind me...I knew exactly what I needed to do now that John was going after Henry. Adrenaline coursed through me as my legs moved, and soon I was in the kitchen. I grabbed a massive frying pan that I'd just washed after dinner with Maggie. There was no time to think, to second guess, as I turned back and bolted toward the den and the awful noises coming from there. All I could hope was that John had been able to hold Henry off in the moments that had passed since I disappeared.

The two men were locked in a fierce fight, their limbs intertwined, and John's hand was wrapped around Henry's wrist in a death grip. The knife was back in Henry's grasp, and John was doing everything he could to try to keep the blade from stabbing him.

John was shouting, Henry was seething, and I didn't stop moving because the knife was getting closer to John with each passing moment. The two men struggled in each other's hold, and for an instant I worried that what I was about to do wasn't going to work...but that just wasn't a goddamn option.