Deconstructing Bridges

Chapter Twenty-Six

The large open-plan office was a frantic bustle of chaos. From the clamouring of phones, to bodies hurrying about, to frustrated voices all sounding at once the noise was almost deafening, yet it hardly penetrated Matthew's mind as he sat in the middle of it all. All he could do was remain still as images from the previous twenty-four hours continued to bombard him. From his ridiculous argument with Rose, to the explosion, to the fear he'd felt as he saw her being dragged away. Now she was on the loose, afraid, terrified, alone, and somehow he knew she wouldn't be turning herself in any time soon. Otherwise surely they would have already heard from her.
The last glimpse he'd had of her had been from his awkward posture on the floor as he struggled to keep his hold on Marshall. He'd called on every tiny remaining speck of strength to heave himself around until his foot was able to reach Marshall as he passed him. Hooking his foot around the man's ankle, he had yanked it close until he could clench Marshall's shin with his knee, pulling him to the floor. In the shock of the attack, Marshall had released Rose to break his own fall, and Matthew hadn't hesitated. In an expert move, thanks to his former wrestling , he'd managed to cinch his legs firmly around Marshall's middle while the man struggled. For a moment, she had hesitated as though wanting to help, but eventually she had heeded his words and she had run. He'd known she would run. She was a survivor, a fighter. No way she would go calmly.
He'd managed to hold on for another two minutes, trying to wedge one knee to press mercilessly against the man's windpipe, but Marshall was as strong as he looked and had managed to twist free. Matthew knew he was done for and had closed his eyes, waiting for whatever came. Perhaps the bolt-cutter would be swung at his head. Perhaps Marshall would grab his gun and end it quickly. Instead, he'd received a kick to the head, two kicks to the stomach, and then Marshall had fled the room.
As he tried to struggle up, dizzy from the blows and the still-heavy smoke, he'd prayed that he'd stalled long enough for her to escape, but he couldn't be sure. With his hands still fastened behind his back with the plastic cord it was difficult, but he made it onto his knees, then his feet, and he ran for the door. He stumbled down the stairs, almost smashing his head against the wall, but he hadn't stopped. By the time he shoved his way out the fire door and onto the street, there was no sign of Marshall but the sirens were rapidly approaching. the red and blue lights were the last thing he remembered seeing as he collapsed to the asphalt before the dizziness completely overwhelmed him.
After a few hours in the emergency room he'd been released, though the doctor at Emergency had been keen to hold on to him for a while, and he'd been here in the precinct ever since - waiting, hoping that one of the several dispatched units would be able to find Marshall before he found her.
I can't lose her now. Not like this. Not now.
"How did this happen? How did he find us?"
Eddie stood contritely beside him, and Matthew looked up at him in despair.
"Matthew, the couple of times we took her out of the apartment, we always had a security detail, but that day it was..."
"Because she was in such a hurry to leave. We'd planned to all go back together to the office before picking up our security, but we had to split it because she wanted to go straight home, and I told you to do it."
Matthew leaned over, feeling nauseous.
"It was my fault."
Hayley rushed forward. Although she technically wasn't on the case, all teams had been put on the search, and she had just returned from a canvas of the suburbs.
"It wasn't your fault. She was in protective custody, but it just meant that she had two police escorts. She wasn't in witness protection. It wasn't your fault."
"No, it was mine."
They both looked up at Eddie who was dishevelled and pale.
"You're technically not even on duty. Your job was to be her support and liaison. It was my job to protect her."
"We never thought that Marshall would come for her. We should have."
Matthew miserably shook his head.
"I can't blame you. It won't make her safer to blame you. I can't do anything, can I? She is in hiding. She knows she isn't safe, even with me."
Time seemed to stretch on. Somebody called Hayley away and she rose to leave, throwing a regretful and pitied glance at him.
I guess she's not in love with me anymore, he thought with a strange twist of irony. He hoped not. Pity didn't bode well between partners. He'd never pitied Rose. He'd felt love, sorrow, rage, empathy, lust, but never pity. As they waited for news, none of which was coming, he felt the exponential increase of another emotion which threatened to drown him completely. Fear.