Page 44 of Survival Game

Yawning, Kyle stretched and untangled himself from the duvet. Peering outside, he saw London enveloped in drizzle and mist. Dim shapes of people huddled under umbrellas were reminiscent of a painting by Rauf Janibekov, one of his favourite artists.

There was a sudden crash in the street and he jumped. Walking over to the window, he saw two people in the road gesticulating wildly as they each surveyed the damage to their cars. People passed by in the torrential rain, seemingly oblivious to the heated discussion of insurance culpability.

He shook his head and walked over to the kitchen. He found Eric in there, peering out into the road, coffee mug in hand. He turned when he heard Kyle come in. “Hi, sleepyhead.” He gestured outside. “Silly buggers playing bumper cars out in this weather. I was checking to see they were okay, but they look unharmed. I hope you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen but I needed coffee.”

“As long as there’s enough left for me.” Kyle ran a hand over his bare chest, catching a glimpse of himself in the cupboard glass. He winced. His tousled hair stuck up like porcupine spikes and he had dark circles under his eyes. He hitched up his sweatpants.

Eric nodded and took down a fresh mug to fill it with strong black coffee. “I always make loads of extra coffee,” he said as he handed the mug over. “It’s the only thing that keeps me on time for my shifts most days.”

Kyle took the mug gratefully and padded to the couch. He sat down to look out the window at the rain.

Eric plonked down beside him. “Did you have a good nap? You looked so relaxed. I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You must have been exhausted.”

Kyle nodded. “I was, a bit,” he confessed. “Baring your soul takes it out of you.” He hesitated. “Thanks for being there for me earlier. I’m not used to telling people that story. I know I’m a weakling who should have had the balls to stand up to a bully, but that’s easier than it sounds.”

Eric reached over and took Kyle’s hands in his, rubbing them gently. “You have nothing to apologise for. And I get it—truly, I do. I see people every day in bad situations just like the one you were in and you can’t judge them. No one knows what’s going on in their heads. All you can do is lend support and try and get them to take care of themselves.”

He scowled. “And you’re no weakling. You re-made your life, and not everyone can say that about themselves.”

Kyle gave a happy sigh, feeling safe and warm as he snuggled into Eric’s chest and placed a kiss against his throat. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

They sat together, Kyle listening to the beat of Eric’s heart. “What are your plans for the rest of today?”

Eric hugged him closer. “It’s raining out, as you can see, so indoors sounds like a good call. Maybe you can show me some more of those tricky card games. Teach me a couple, maybe?”

Kyle grinned, feeling more relaxed. “I’m sure I have a few up my sleeve you could learn.”

“Then cards it is.” Eric went to the dresser and pulled out an old deck of cards. “Show me how you did it in Vegas, baby.”

Chapter Twelve

“Hell’s bells,” Eric muttered to Aaron in disgust. “Look at those fucking people. Like hyenas.” He scowled at them fiercely. These last three days had been a bitch, so why should today be any different? The crowd around them had phones out, taking pictures of their latest incident and Eric wanted to swear at them, run over and yank the gadgets out of their hands.

They’d taken a call out for a woman who’d collapsed during the busy Saturday morning rush hour. After fighting their way through traffic and cursing at cars blocking their way, Eric and Aaron had finally arrived at the scene.

It took all of Eric’s skills to move the man hovering over the woman’s supine body away to let Aaron look at her. His partner’s eyes conveyed the result to him even before he’d spoken the words. Aaron stood up and faced the middle-aged man in front of him.

“Sir, what’s your name?” he asked gently.

“Jeremy. Jeremy Woden. My wife’s name is Emily.”

The man clenched his hands together as he gazed down at his stricken wife. “Emily, Emily, wake up,” he sobbed, reaching down and pulling at her lifeless body. “The ambulance is here, you have to wake up.”

Aaron’s face was grave with sadness. “Jeremy, I’m so sorry to tell you this. Emily is gone. I think she might have been dead a little while. How long were you trying to wake her up?”

“Emily isn’t gone,” Jeremy spat out, tears rolling down gaunt cheeks. “She can’t be. I’ve been talking to her for the last fifteen minutes.”

Aaron threw a look of compassion at the man. “My gut feeling is she’s had an aneurysm. It would have been quick. What do you mean, you talked to her for fifteen minutes? Did she respond at all?”

Jeremy’s face clouded. “No, she didn’t answer, but I swear I saw her eyes move. I thought if I talked to her, she’d wake up.”

Eric stifled a weary sigh. The chances were that they wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it had been an aneurysm, but waiting that long to call an ambulance had certainly lessened the woman’s chances.

“Who called you anyway?” Jeremy asked wildly. “I didn’t ask for anyone to come. I was going to wake her up and take her home.”

A voice called out from the crowd. A slim Asian woman waved at them. “I did. I thought she needed an ambulance.” Eric walked over to her. She was one of the few that didn’t have a phone in her hand, merely a concerned expression on her face.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I think it’s too late but you did what you could.”