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let-me-love-you-loki · 1 year

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Nowhere to Run--Ch. 55

Chapter 55

It felt like the hallway stretched out in front of them as if it would never end. Jericho trailed behind Jack with his heart caught high in his throat and his head spinning. Somehow, Santana had gotten to the front and had raced down the cinderblock corridor. The sound of the door banging against the wall echoed like a gunshot. Jericho could feel the weight of his terror pressing against his ribs. Dark spots blinked in front of his eyes as he tried to focus on Kat’s head lolling against Jack Perry’s bicep.

“Move it,” Jack snapped as he practically shoved his way past Santana to get into the Inner Circle locker room. He raced across the room, dodging suitcases and chairs to get to the low sofa against the wall. Kat whimpered as he lowered her down, propping her head on the arm.

Santana stepped out of the way to let Jericho in. The rest of the Inner Circle followed right behind, crowding into the small room. They moved out of the way to let him get to the sofa. His heart pounded in his ears as he studied the pale hue of Kat’s face. At least she was breathing. He could see her chest rise and fall slowly.

“Sammy, get me a wet towel from the bathroom,” Jericho said as he sat on the edge of the sofa next to her hip. “Jake, go get Doc Sampson.”

They barely hesitated before heading off on their individual errands. Water ran in the sink in the bathroom. Jake’s heavy footsteps echoed until they were inaudible.

***

Jack found himself hovering at the end of the sofa, chewing on the edge of his thumb. Kat’s head rolled side to side as she let out faint whimpers of discomfort. Her brow furrowed as her eyelids fluttered. He watched, his skin crawling, as Jericho rested his palm on the curve of her stomach.

Kat moved sluggishly until her fingers settled over Jericho’s. She drew in a deep, shaky breath that started a rush of color into her cheeks. “Chris?”

“I’m right here,” Jericho said softly. He reached out as Sammy handed him a damp paper towel, then settled it gently on Kat’s forehead. Jack clenched his fists. “Do you want the lights off?”

She sighed and put her free hand over the towel. “What happened?”

Jack felt someone staring holes through his chest. When he looked up, he saw Sanatana glaring at him as if he wanted to shove him straight through the wall. The rage that simmered below the surface of Jack’s skin made him almost hope that Santana made a move. A fight would make him feel better.

“The boys were being idiots,” Jericho replied. His thumb stroked gently over Kat’s belly. “Santana and Jack were picking a fight with each other, and you got in the middle of it. Worked yourself up yelling at the two of them and got dizzy.”

For half a second, Jack felt his eyes go wide. He was surprised that Jericho hadn’t just thrown him under the bus over the whole thing.

“If Jack hadn’t caught you, you’d have bashed your head on the floor.”

What the fuck is he playing at? Jack thought caustically.

***

“Is everyone okay?” I asked quietly. My mouth was dry, and it was hard to speak.

Jericho’s faint laughter rolled over me like the warmth of a blanket. He stroked his palm in soft circles along my stomach. “You’re impossible, Kat,” he said, voice tinged with equal parts worry and happy exasperation. “Yes, everyone’s fine. Nothing happened. You put both of them in their place before anything happened.”

“Good,” I grunted. “You’re all a bunch of children with your heads up your asses most of the time anyway.”

He laughed again, louder and more full-bodied this time. “Whatever you say, Katarina.”

I cracked open one eye and glared at him beneath my lashes. “Don’t start with me, Christopher.”

Jericho leaned forward and kissed me softly. His nose nuzzled against mine. “You scared the absolute shit out of me.” My fingers wrapped around his as they settled against my belly. “I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

I reached up with the other hand and settled my palm against his cheek. The rough stubble scratched pleasantly against my skin. He was warm and close, the scent of Irish Spring filling the space between us. “I’m so sorry.”

He kissed me again, lingering half a second longer than before. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into coming back. You should be at home resting. We should be at home.” His lashes brushed against my cheek, followed by the heartbreaking sensation of teardrops. “I promised you that I would take care of you.”

“You have,” I whispered back. “You do, Chris. It’s not your fault I’m more stubborn than a backwoods Tennessee mule.”

***

It felt like someone had just punched Jack as hard as they could in the middle of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His heart seemed to have stopped dead behind his ribs as his father’s voice echoed through his head. It was as if Luke Perry was standing right in front of him just like he’d used to, arms crossed over his chest and staring at him with a light in his eyes that was equal parts frustration and amusement.

Jack was immediately flung backward in time. Without even trying, he conjured up an image of the Perry farm awash in bright summer sunshine. His father walking along the fence line in faded jeans and a pair of worn boots, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes as he watched horses meander through the clover fields. Kat sitting on the fence and swinging her bare feet playfully. Nighttime washing over everything as he tried to mediate a screaming match between Jack and Kat over some minor thing.

“I swear to God,” Jack could hear his father say, “the two of you are ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. More stubborn than a backwoods Tennessee mule. And I’ve seen a good few of those that were easier to deal with!”

The memory was so clear, so strong, so real that Jack felt dizzy. He stumbled back, his shoulders slamming against the wall. He gasped as he tried to drag air into his lungs. The sound echoed.

Caught Kat’s attention.

***

My head started to swim as I tried to sit up. It took a moment for my vision to clear enough to see Jack practically collapsed against the wall at the end of the sofa. His face was pale, dark eyes standing out.

“Jack,” I whispered, my voice cracking. Fear lanced up my spine, dragging with it a worry that he wouldn’t answer. That he wouldn’t speak to me. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Jack?”

He didn’t answer. It was as if he was lost in his own world somewhere. His dark eyes were unfocused, staring off into space. There was something about his face that made my heart fall into my stomach. In that moment, he wasn’t the angry Jack who’d yelled at me and called me a whore on the delivery bay. He looked… sad. Lonely. Vulnerable.

He looked like the Jack who had once been my best friend.

I glanced back at Jericho who was still sitting on the sofa next to my hip. There was a shadow of worry behind his blue eyes when he looked at me. His hand rubbed slow circles on my stomach, thumb brushing back and forth. His palm settled low on my belly, feeling for the push and stretch of our baby moving. It was something he’d taken to doing not long after the first kick. He did it absently, as if it was a talisman. A way to calm himself. To remind himself that we were real, that we were here. He took several slow breaths as he watched me. I felt his eyes searching my face.

I looked at the set of his jaw and knew exactly what he was thinking. The last thing he wanted to do was leave me anywhere alone with Jack Perry.

My hand settled over his, threading our fingers together. His warmth spread through me as I met his gaze. For just a moment everyone and everything in the room faded away. It was just the two of us. The three of us. My belly stretched and jumped as the little life inside me pressed against it. Jericho closed his eyes and leaned forward. His cheek settled on my chest, lips settled over my heart.

“I can’t do this, Kat,” he whispered against my collarbone. “I can’t.”

My free hand settled against the back of his head. The dark blond locks twirled around my fingers. The scent of his shampoo filled the space between us, mixing in with the calming aroma of Irish Spring. “Chris, it’s okay,” I replied soothingly. “Look at me. Look at me, please.”

Jericho hesitated. Then, instead of looking up, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight against him. His hands slipped beneath my back, drawing me up against his chest and tucking his face against the curve of my neck. My breath caught in my chest as I felt the first tear against my skin.

“Oh, Chris…” Tears of my own burned up the back of my throat. I gathered him close and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. “Talk to me.”

He was quiet, the tears still settling on my skin. I could feel my heart breaking deep inside my chest. It took a moment for me to realize he was whispering something. It was barely audible, a brush of breath against my neck.

“Don’t ask me to do this,” he prayed. “I can’t leave you here without me. Not like this. Not right now. Not with him.”

“Hey, you absolutely ricockulous man,” I said, surprised by the faint smile that spread over my lips. “You stupid, idiotic, moronic, wonderful, amazing man.”

Jericho finally looked up at me, brows furrowed together. His eyes were glassy and red, and his mouth was curled in a confused frown. He stared at me as if he couldn’t understand why I was on the verge of laughter.

“You aren’t going off on a tour of Siberia with only a smoke signal to contact me,” I replied, doing my best to keep the incredulous laughter from spilling out. “For Christ’s sake, you’ll be in the hallway. And I know you’ll be listening to every word.”

“Katarina,” he said with a dark tone carrying beneath his voice.

I tried so hard not to laugh. I forced my mouth into a serious frown. “Christopher.”

For a moment Jericho and I stared at one another. I waited. He closed his eyes, scrubbed his fingers over his forehead and sighed.

“The door stays open.” I watched him glare at Jack, knowing those words weren’t for me.

_____________

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