Chapter 9

***Kenya.***

I was frightened as I ran.

I had only just reached the hallway, where there was a phone, when strong hands grabbed me and threw me against a strong surface. I looked up to find myself in the arms of a very tall, heavily built man, equally wearing a hoodie. The man winked at me, a snarl tugging his lips. I looked ahead and noticed that another man had been responsible for throwing me at this brute. I struggled to break free of his hold, but the man held me tight. He struggled to drag me along with him, but I resisted, kicking him in the shin in the process. But my kicks only got the man angrier. The other man tried to equally get me to shut up, but I kept on struggling and screaming, hoping that someone would hear and come to my rescue.

Impulsively, I bit the brute's fingers who had my wrist clutched in fingers. The man yelped in pain, releasing my restrained hand. I dashed out of his reach and was about to reach the alarm button on the wall, when I felt a hard, heavy object hit the back of my head. I screamed in agony and staggered forward. The sudden pain in my head shot up, causing ringing sounds all around me. I lost my balance.

Too dazed to even continue screaming. A headache shooting through me, I let the creeping darkness sweep over me as i slumped to the cold, waxed floor. I heard pealing sounds of laughter. My only worry before I finally blacked out was that Hank was going to have his way, but this time he wasn't alone.

Guns. Sounds of Gun shots. My head hurt. I couldn't open my eyes*.

*Oh God! am I blind? I can't see. I must force myself awake. Are those yells and growls of pain? Waitwhy am I feeling like am being suspended in the air? Like am being air lifted. Oh no, no, no. Am going to fallAm going to*

*"Shh... No baby, just hang on tight. I would never let you fall. Hold on KenyaJust hold onAm going to get you to the hospital"*

*Levi?*

***Two Nights Later.***

***Levi.***

"Sir, the President wants to speak with you." I heard Blake say, quietly, from behind me.

I didn't say a word but only stared at the lifeless form that lay on the bed in front of me. Gadgets beeping as they were attached to her. So vulnerable. So young. My lungs constricted in my chest as I stared at her and recalled the state she had been in two nights ago. I managed to turn my attention to Blake just then, so that I could chase those horrid thoughts away. She was fine now and that was what mattered.

As my eyes came face to face with Blake, the words Blake had said finally registered in my mind. William Walerus, the president, wasn't a very patient man. I never liked to keep the man waiting. And that was one of the things that made us inseparable. Even though we favored different parties.

"Hello, William." I greeted as I collected the phone and walked to the window, gazing out at nothing in particular.

"Levi, you sly dog!" President William called out excitedly. I managed a small smile, as I sensed the president's excitement. "You beat Crompton hands down. The stakes are down for the man, you know."

"I didn't notice," I said, dryly, trying to get into the moment. But I couldn't. I found myself unable to share this victory, because the one person who had advised me to spill my guts out, was lying limp on the bed. Machines and tubes attached to her.

"What's the matter man? You upset about Crompton's retort?" The president said. I frowned slightly, struggling to recall what Crompton had said. Oh yeahThe man had tried to down play me on the media, the Saturday after my exclusive. I had watched Crompton spill nonsense about me; about my being a murderer and a criminal. About having dirt on me. But I had been too focused on watching Kenya that I had barely registered Crompton's words.

"Harley's words are as tiny as his prick." I scoffed as I sighed heavily. I heard President William chuckle to my words and I was happy that I had been able to distract the man from worrying over me. We talked about other affairs and soon ended the conversation on a comfortable note.

The doctor came into the room in that moment and had a look at Kenya.

"Why hasn't she woken up yet, Doctor?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

The doctor turned a sympathetic look at me and replied. "You know, with the inflammation that had developed in her brain from the blow to her head, we had to put her on sedation to allow the swelling to come down."

I turned a soft gaze at her, remembering the state she had been in when we had brought her into the theater a couple of nights back. I was grateful that she was breathing at all. I shut my eyes tight, to flee the memory.

"Would she be alright?" I asked, drawing closer to her and trailing a lazy index finger down her cheek. She didn't even flinch. Except for the deep gash that had seeped blood on that night of the incident and the scratches on her arms, there were no other serious wounds on her body. At my behest, the doctors had run all the tests needed to ensure that she was fine, before they had proceeded with the surgery to close up the gash on her head. I had watched the entire surgery from the observation room and had growled within me at the depth of the wound. It was a miracle that she hadn't died.

After the doctor left, I went into the shower to clean myself up and change into fresh clothes.