Relapse to Instinct

Chapter 26

Jazz had the knife in hand, disregarding the burning of his palm as he held the silverhandle, and the agony darting through his body as he connected with the ground heavily.

A calloused hand was pulling him up by the shoulder, and he spun, sinking the silver blade into the flesh wall behind him, dancing underneath the appendage and hurrying away.

He lifted John from the floor, the weight ofthe younger man almost sending them both tothe ground again, but the growl of anger from behind was enough to convince him to shoulder the weight and move.

Jazz didn't turn, didn't look back as he dragged John to the Porsche, thankful that the door had been left open.

He threw John into the passenger seat, collapsing into the drivers, started the car with a roar of the engine, and zoomed away from the disaster scene, skidding around corners in the rain as he made for the hospital.

He was in pain, yes. Driving was only making it worse, yes. They would most likely crash and suffer horrible and disgusting deaths, yes. But at least it wouldn't be at Kieran's hand.

Susie. She had been the reason Chris had died. She was the one who wanted Jazz to suffer.

To be honest, he didn't blame her after hearing her reasons. He knew he'd been awful when he was younger, but the Jen situation really made him clean up his act, and Chris had definitely not deserved what she got.

Chris. He still loved her. As he thought the words, sobs invaded his body, choking him, and causing his already shaky control of thecar to worsen.

Above all, he wished that he'd been able to tell Chris that he was sorry. Sorry for getting her kicked out of her parents house. Sorry for not being able to look after their daughter. Sorry that she had died thinking he hated her.

Shoulders shaking, he glanced quickly away from the road at the man sitting beside him.

John was still, far too still, and Jazz worried that he wouldn't get him to the hospital quick enough. John had saved his life, even though Susie had said she wouldn't kill him. Kieran knew the pain of silver, and, as ironic as it was, would have taken the humane option eventually and just ended his misery.

He couldn't work out why John had come after him, and he decided that he needed to find out, but to find out, he needed to get John to a hospital.

It turned out that he had broken his right arm, said arm had become infected, managed to break two ribs, had a mild concussion and the blood loss had nearly killed him.

Maybe John needed to amend his 'good holiday' thought.

He'd been in and out of surgery so many times in the last few days, and the cast thathad been put on his arm felt itchy and uncomfortable.

Jazz had yet to show his face, although the nurses had mentioned that someone had beenlurking around outside his room who matched Jazz's physical description. He feltconfused that Jazz hadn't come to see him, but grateful still that the other man hadn't abandoned him.

His family hadn't been notified, and he wasa little miffed at Jazz for denying that he had family to call, but he understood the logic - if they were being hunted by Kieran,his family would be easy targets.

Still, he wished someone had come.

There was a knock on the door then, and John first thought of the old saying: 'speak of the devil', but this thought was followed with, 'he probably knew you were thinking about him...'

Nevertheless, in walked chaos incarnate, Jazz himself, in all of John's dirty, too-big-for-him clothes. John was eternally relievedthat he kept a spare change of clothes in theboot of his car, and that Jazz had managed to find them before taking him into the hospital.