Cherries

Chapter 11

Summer

"He is... he was my... my... Finn and I... were engaged."

"Hey baby?"

"Mmmm," he hums in response.

"What do you think about a red velvet cake for the wedding?"

"Whatever you want darlin' is fine with me..."

"Um... one night, our house was broken into."

We both bolt upright at the frighteningly loud noise from somewhere outside our bedroom. Someone's in our home.

"He told me to stay and hide."

He pulls me into our large walk-in robe and grabs my face with both his hands, his eyes piercing mine with worry.

"I need you to stay here, baby. No matter what. No matter what you hear. Please, baby. I need to hear you say it so I know you understand me." He whispers to me and searches my face, like he's committing it to memory.

"I called the police."

My back hits the wall behind me and I slide to the floor, as I dial emergency services, my hands shaking as I lift the phone to my ear.

"I could hear the noises coming from downstairs."

I can't move. Or speak. I can only listen to the carnage unfolding downstairs in our home. I'm frightened by what I can hear. The shouting is loud but the words are muffled to my ears, like I'm blocking them out. I can hear furniture breaking, glass shattering, fists and weapons slapping against skin in a frenzied struggle.

"They shot him...and left him to die... right there... on our kitchen floor."

I jolt in paralysing fear at the sound of the gun. My hands clasp over my ears and the phone falls to the floor. No, please no.

I can hear the deafening pounding of my heart as I go downstairs and reach the kitchen, my bare feet touching something sticky on the floor.

Blood.

There's so much blood.

It's everywhere.

"Finn," my voice sounds far away.

"There was so much blood. There was nothing I could do. Nothing could save him."

"Finn....please, no."

His hand shakily reaches out to me, and caresses my cheek and I look at the love of my life as he takes his last breaths in front of me. He smiles weakly and I lean down slowly and gently press my cheek against his.

"My everything..."

"He died in my arms. And a part of me died with him. On that floor. In our house."

I wipe the tears from my face and take a shaky breath in and slowly out. Taking my time to get myself back under some sort of control. It's been a long time since I've said that story out loud. I relive it in my dreams and my nightmares more times than I care to remember. The end never changing and breaking my heart over and over again.

I look over at Adam, as he stares off into nothing, lost in his own thoughts and feelings. I don't dwell on my actions and reach over the console and take his big hand in mine. He looks down at our joined hands and intertwines our fingers, then looks at me with a softness in his eyes, shaking his head slowly. I can tell he's struggling with what to say.

"They never found them. The case is ongoing. There was barely any useful physical evidence."

He looks at me confused. "But aren't you a witness? Shouldn't you be under protection?"

"I didn't see anything."

But I know I heard everything. Every smash, every splinter, every shatter. But I heard more than that. I know I did. But I can't distinguish the words from the muffled sounds. Not yet anyway. I haven't given up on the hope that I will be able to one day. That those words will come to me and they'll be significant in some way. Of that I'm sure. Everything else is a hard maybe, my life, my future, any solid direction I can take that gives me something to look forward to.

He still looks upset and deep in thought, his thumb rubbing circles over my hand, like an ingrained reflex, rather than a forced habit.

"I...I just can't stand the thought of you possibly being in danger." His voice is full of worry.

"Rogers and the other investigators don't think they would have even known I was there. We were renovating. About to paint inside so no photos or anything like that was even around. And now... the court invoked a media ban. My name, my image and Finn's too, can't be released to the public. All our social media was deleted... all to keep me safe."

"Why don't you move out? It must be so painful to stay in the house. All those memories..." he looks at me with sadness and the realisation of his earlier discovery of my car and the bed in the back, and where I spend my nights.

"I can't. I'm not sure why. But something is holding me here. Something important."

I look at Adam expecting him to look at me like I'm completely crazy, but instead he's nodding his head in understanding, never breaking his hold of my hand, his eyes staring into mine.

"He doesn't want me to leave. Not yet."