28 Clover Lane

Chapter 10

Pain.

All down my leg, there's pain. I pull my eyelids open and manage to see what's happened. The car is tipped onto its left side, and the only thing holding me up is my seatbelt. It's beginning to press sharply into my chest and I want to shift myself but I'm scared the car will move again. The passenger window is smashed and Lily is resting on the glass. She's still unconscious. I see a cut on her forehead that's sending a trickle of blood down the side of her face. There are bright red scratches on her arms, standing out shockingly against her pale skin. I suddenly feel so scared. Why did I do this? Everything just happened so fast. It was like I wasn't thinking and the only thing I was running on was adrenaline.

I have to do something. I remember my mobile phone in my pocket and pull it out, praying there's enough battery. It lights up when I press a button and shows three bars on the battery life in the top corner. Relief. I dial 999 and press it to my ear. It's only then that I realise I'm shaking.

"Hello, what service do you require?"

"Ambulance, please," I say. My voice doesn't sound like my voice, it sounds dry and different. The voice of a killer. I can't get the images of me shooting those men out of my head.

"What's your emergency?"

"There's been an accident. We're on Greenwich Road, just outside Abbeydale. You'll have to look for us because the car's tipped off the side of the road. I don't think we're far off the turn-in to Abbeydale, if that's any help."

"Right. What car do you have?"

"A blue Ford, two-door."

"And is anyone hurt, sir?"

"Yes, my girlfriend was taken by these men... I think they drugged her or something, she was unconscious before we crashed and she still is now. I was driving away from them and that's when I lost control of the car," I gabble. My throat tightens as I continue speaking. "But there's something else. I killed the men. They had guns and I managed to get hold of one and shoot them. They're a bit further up the road."

"Thank you sir. Are you hurt?"

"I... I can't move my leg."

"Okay, we'll get an ambulance and the police out to you and your girlfriend straight away. They'll be with you soon."

"Thank you," I say, before ending the call. I replace the phone into my pocket and reach over to touch Lily. I grip her hand and intertwine our fingers. Her hand feels loose in my grasp when she doesn't squeeze me back.

The doctors discharge me from hospital the next day with a fractured femur. I have to keep it in plaster for six weeks and move around on crutches, but I'll survive. Lily will too. Apparently she was shot with a tranquilliser gun, stuff with the strength to keep her unconscious for over four hours. God knows what those men could have done to her in that time if I hadn't intervened. The police said that I was brave to tackle them, that I did the right thing. They told me that the men were well-known and wanted sex traffickers, and I'd done the police a big favour by finally finishing their nasty work. How is killing anyone a big favour? My mum's been advised to get me counselling for a few weeks. I agreed to it because it's going to help me get rid of the guilt I keep feeling.

Lily's still unconscious, sedated until the effects of the drug wear off, but her only injuries are a few scratches from the broken glass in the car, a couple of stitches in the cut to her head, sore skin around her wrists and ankles from when she was tied up and a broken arm from when the car tipped onto its side. Her mum still hasn't come back. I had to tell the police that she's missing when they questioned me about Lily's relatives; her mum's the only person she has in her life besides me. They've started a search for her, and I just hope that when Lily wakes up, she won't hate me for it.

I limp out of my hospital room on the crutches, thanking the doctors for their help. It feels good to be off that scratchy bed. Mum's waiting outside on the row of white plastic chairs. She gets up when she sees me, tries to help me, I insist I'm fine. She's such a worrier. I pull myself along to the gift shop by the entrance of the hospital and buy Lily a huge bunch of purple, red, pink and yellow pansies. Her favourites.

I ask mum to wait in the car for me and tell her where I'm going. Then I head to Lily's room. I feel nervous as I approach it; I don't know what state she'll be in, what she'll look like. I don't think I can bear to see her lying all cut and bruised, but I can't imagine it'll be any worse than what she looked like when she was tied up in the back of that van, or when she was covered in broken glass on her side in the passenger seat of my car after the crash. I mentally kick myself for being such a baby. She's my girlfriend. I suddenly realise I want to see her.

I push open the brown door and see that Lily's room is similar to mine, except for a BPM machine at the side of her bed. It beeps at every beat of her pulse, each one the speed of a second ticking by. It's comforting.

God, she looks so beautiful. The bed sheets cover most of her body, only showing her shoulders, head and arms. Her blonde hair is spread out on the pillow, outlining her sleeping face. Her long, elegant eyelashes rest on her cheeks and her pink rosebud lips and dainty nose are covered by an oxygen mask. I say her name softly. She doesn't reply.

Please, Lily, wake up. Please.

I love you.