Between Ice Blades

POV: Lana

"Cindy, please. Put the gun down."

"Shut up, Alex!"

The gun swung towards me.

I flinched, throwing both hands over my head. My back hit the wall, and I realised there was nowhere left to go.

"Cindy, listen to me," Alex said. "We can talk about this."

"Talk?" She laughed, but her eyes were wet. "You had months to talk to me. Months, Alex! And what did you do? You walked away, chose her, and announced your engagement as if I meant nothing to you."

"That's not true."

"Then why am I standing here with a gun while she's wearing your shirt?"

My eyes dropped to the shirt hanging loosely over my thighs. Alex's shirt. I'd pulled it on that morning without thinking anything of it. Now, under Cindy's stare, it felt like evidence of a crime.

"Cindy, please," I whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Her head snapped towards me.

"You don't get to speak."

I pressed my lips together. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Cindy looked me over, her expression twisting with disgust.

"What is it about you?" she demanded. "What do you have that I don't? I'm a professional athlete. I've built a career, a reputation. I've stood beside him in front of cameras, sponsors, everyone. I've sacrificed my time and my opportunities to make sure his career stayed on track."

"Cindy," Alex said quietly, "I never asked you to give up your life for mine."

She stared at him.

For a moment, the anger slipped, revealing something raw beneath it.

Then she raised the gun towards him.

"Don't you dare make this my fault."

Alex stopped moving.

"You wanted me beside you when it suited you," she continued. "You wanted the image, the appearances, the perfect couple. And I gave you everything. Then you decided you were tired of me."

"I tried to end things between us without hurting you."

"And now look at you!" Her voice rose. "Engaged to her. Happy with her. Letting the whole world celebrate while I stand there looking like a fool."

She pointed at me again.

"And for what? Her?"

I wanted to tell her that I hadn't stolen Alex. That he had made his own choices. That I hadn't asked him to propose to me just to humiliate her.

But the gun kept finding its way back to my chest, and every time it did, my courage deserted me.

"She's got nothing," Cindy said. "No name. No money. No career that matters. And somehow, she's the one you chose."

"Enough." Alex's voice sharpened. "Whatever happened between us, Lana has nothing to do with how I ended our relationship. This is between you and me."

"No." Cindy shook her head. "You don't get to decide that anymore."

"I'm not trying to decide anything for you. I'm asking you to put the gun down."

"Stop telling me what to do!"

She was crying now, though her grip on the weapon remained steady.

"Everyone thinks they know me," she said. "The difficult Cindy. The arrogant Cindy. The woman who's too harsh, too demanding, too much for everyone."

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Fine. Let them see what happens when I finally stop being the woman they expect me to be."

A chill travelled through me.

Alex took a cautious step forward.

"Cindy, look at me. You don't have to do this."

"Stay back."

He stopped, holding her gaze.

"Please," he said. "I know you're hurt. I know you hate me right now. But don't destroy your life over this."

"Destroy my life?" She gave a broken laugh. "You already destroyed it when you chose her."

"I didn't choose her to punish you. I chose her because I love her."

The silence that followed was worse than the shouting.

Cindy looked at him as if she were waiting for him to take the words back.

He didn't.

Then she turned to me.

"If I can't have Alex," she said, her voice suddenly calm, "neither can you."

"Cindy, no!" Alex lunged towards her.

She whipped the gun back in his direction. He caught her wrist, trying to force the weapon away from me.

I heard the struggle before I understood what was happening: the scrape of shoes against the floor, a chair crashing sideways, Alex shouting her name.

Then the gun fired.

Pain tore through my chest.

I stumbled backwards, my shoulder striking the wall before my legs gave way. I landed hard on the floor, gasping for air.

For a few seconds, I couldn't understand why my chest hurt so much.

Then I looked down.

Blood was spreading across Alex's shirt.

My blood.

"No," I whispered.

I pressed my hand against the wound, but the pain made me cry out. My fingers came away red.

"Lana!"

Alex's voice broke across the room.

I forced my head up.

He was still struggling with Cindy. The gun had slipped from her grasp, but neither of them seemed to notice. Alex shoved her away from him. She stumbled backwards, caught her foot against the fallen chair and crashed to the floor.

Her head struck the edge of the low table.

The sound made my stomach turn.

Cindy lay still.

For one terrible moment, Alex stared at her.

"Cindy?"

She didn't answer.

He dropped beside her, touched her shoulder, then looked at his hand. I couldn't see what he saw, but the expression that crossed his face told me enough.

He scrambled towards me.

"Lana. Baby, look at me."

I tried. His face swam above mine, blurring at the edges.

"Stay with me, all right? Just stay with me."

I wanted to ask him if Cindy was dead. I wanted to ask whether I was going to die, too.

Instead, I reached for his hand.

He caught mine immediately, wrapping both of his around it.

"Please," he whispered. "Please don't leave me."

His voice sounded nothing like the man I'd fallen in love with. It was frightened and broken, and I had never wanted so badly to take away someone's pain.

I tried to tell him I was still there.

My lips moved, but no sound came out.

The room dimmed around me. Alex kept calling my name, his hands trembling around mine, while Cindy lay motionless a few feet away.

I couldn't keep my eyes open.

The last thing I felt was Alex holding my hand.

Then the darkness swallowed everything.

POV: Alex

I had never hated a hospital corridor until that night.

The white walls, the fluorescent lights, the smell of disinfectant. Everything about the place made me feel trapped. I couldn't see Lana. I couldn't reach her. I couldn't do a damn thing except wait for someone to tell me whether the woman I loved was going to live.

I paced from one end of the corridor to the other, turned, and did it again.

My trainers squeaked against the polished floor.

I stopped outside the operating theatre and stared at the closed doors.

Please, Lana. Please.

The last thing I'd seen was blood spreading across my shirt. My shirt, the one she'd borrowed that morning. She'd pulled it on without thinking anything of it, walking around our house as though she'd always belonged there.

Now I couldn't stop seeing it soaked in blood.

I pressed my palms against my eyes.

This was my fault.

If Cindy had never been part of my life, Lana wouldn't be lying on an operating table. If I'd ended things sooner, perhaps Cindy would never have reached this point. If I'd recognised how far her obsession had gone, I might have protected Lana before it came to this.

But I hadn't.

I'd convinced myself that ending the relationship was enough. I'd thought that once I walked away, Lucinda would eventually accept it.

I'd been wrong.

I stopped pacing and stared at the doors again.

I was supposed to be good at making decisions under pressure. I played professional ice hockey for a living. Every match demanded quick judgement, every mistake carried consequences, and hesitation could cost the team a game.

Yet when it came to the people in my life, I'd allowed things to deteriorate until someone ended up paying for my mistakes.

Lana was paying now.

I remembered the first time I'd met her at The Anchor & Oak.

I'd gone there after a match with no particular plan beyond getting something to drink and escaping the noise that followed me everywhere. Fans, interviews, sponsors, people who wanted a photograph or a piece of my attention. Even on an ordinary evening, being Alex Mercer rarely meant being left alone.

Then Lana had appeared at my table.

She'd taken my order, given me a look when I struggled to decide what I wanted, and moved on to the next customer without a second glance.

She hadn't flirted with me. She hadn't asked about hockey. She hadn't even pretended to recognise me.

I'd found that refreshing.

So I'd gone back.

The second time, I found myself looking for her before I'd even reached the bar. By the third visit, I was inventing reasons to stay longer than necessary.

It hadn't been one grand moment that made me fall for her. It had been the little things.

The way she spoke about her design work with genuine excitement. The way she could laugh at herself without needing anyone's approval. The way she listened when I talked about hockey without treating my career as the most interesting thing about me.

With Lana, I wasn't a player whose next performance needed analysing. I wasn't half of a celebrity couple whose every appearance had to be managed.

I was just Alex.

And somewhere along the way, that had become the person I most wanted to be.

I lowered my hands.

The operating theatre doors remained closed.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, hoping for an update, but it was a message from my manager asking whether I would be available for a call the following morning.

I stared at it before switching the phone off.

The season could wait. The club could wait. The entire world could wait.

Nothing mattered if Lana didn't come home.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

"Alex!"

I turned to see Gabrielle hurrying towards me, her face pale with worry. She reached me and caught my arms, searching my face as though she might find the answer there.

"What happened?"

I tried to speak, but my throat tightened.

"Alex? Where's Lana?"

I looked towards the doors.

"She's in there."

"Why? What happened to her?"

I shook my head, unable to meet my sister's eyes.

"Lucinda came to the house with a gun."

Gabrielle went still.

"Lucinda? She had a gun?"

I nodded.

"She shot Lana. I tried to stop her, Gab. I swear I tried."

My voice broke.

"I tried to get the gun away from her, but it went off. Lana fell, and I couldn't do anything."

Gabrielle tightened her grip on my arms.

"Is Lana alive?"

"They took her straight into surgery. Nobody has told me anything yet."

I looked down at my hands. I'd scrubbed them in the bathroom until my skin felt raw, but I could still see the blood whenever I closed my eyes.

"I couldn't stop it," I whispered. "I was right there, and I couldn't stop it."

Gabrielle pulled me into a hug.

For a moment, I stood rigidly, unable to respond. Then I clutched her as though she were the only solid thing left in a world that had suddenly become unstable.

"It's not your fault," she murmured.

I pulled away.

"Don't say that."

"Alex-"

"I should have known Lucinda wouldn't accept the breakup. I knew how she could be when she didn't get what she wanted."

"You knew she was controlling. That doesn't mean you could predict she'd bring a gun into your home."

"I should have done something."

"You tried to stop her."

"Not fast enough!"

My voice echoed through the corridor.

A nurse glanced towards us. I lowered my head, ashamed of losing control, but I couldn't make myself care.

Gabrielle waited until I looked at her again.

"Lucinda made a choice," she said firmly. "She chose to bring that gun. She chose to threaten you both. You didn't make those choices for her."

I wanted to believe that. I wanted to accept that there were things I couldn't have prevented.

But every time I pictured Lana falling, I found another decision I could have made differently.

"She's all I can think about," I said.

"I know."

"What if she doesn't wake up?"

Gabrielle's face softened.

"We don't know what's going to happen yet. The doctors are still working on her."

I nodded, though the answer offered little comfort.

Gabrielle glanced towards the nurses' station. Someone called her name from farther down the corridor.

"I need to check on a patient," she said. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

I caught her hand before she could leave.

"Gab, please. If you hear anything..."

"I'll find you."

She squeezed my fingers and hurried away.

I resumed pacing.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Every time the doors moved, my heart lurched. Every time footsteps approached, I looked up, hoping to see a doctor coming towards me with good news.

Nothing.

At some point, a nurse brought me a cup of water. I thanked her but barely touched it.

I kept thinking about the future Lana and I had discussed.

The house we'd chosen together. The space she wanted for her design work. The ridiculous argument we'd had about where to put the sofa. She'd insisted that the living room needed enough natural light for her to work, and I'd argued that the sofa should face the television.

We'd laughed about it afterwards.

Such ordinary things.

I'd never realised how much I'd come to depend on them.

I checked the clock again. I had no idea how much time had passed since they'd taken Lana through those doors. Every minute felt longer than the one before it.

I couldn't sit still. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't even finish a glass of water.

All I could do was imagine the worst and beg the universe not to make me live through it.

Then I saw Gabrielle returning.

She wasn't alone.

A doctor walked beside her, holding a clipboard. His expression was serious, and my heart began pounding before either of them reached me.

I stood so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.

"Doctor?"

He stopped in front of me.

"Mr Mercer?"

"Yes. How is Lana?"

He glanced at Gabrielle before turning back to me.

"I'm afraid I have some difficult news."

My stomach tightened.

POV: Alex

"Lucinda Devereux was dead when she arrived."

I stared at the doctor.

"And Lana?"

He glanced at his clipboard before meeting my eyes.

"We've managed to stabilise her, Mr Mercer. She's alive, but she's still unconscious. She's suffered a serious gunshot wound, and we'll need to monitor her closely."

My fingers tightened around the back of the chair beside me.

"She'll be all right, won't she?"

"I can't make that promise yet. The next few hours are important."

I stared at him, waiting for him to say something else. Something reassuring. Anything that would tell me Lana wasn't going to die because I hadn't been able to protect her.

But he only gave me a sympathetic nod before walking away.

"She'll be all right," Gabrielle said beside me.

I turned towards my sister.

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But neither does that doctor. She's alive, Alex. Hold on to that."

I lowered myself into the chair. My legs felt too weak to support me.

Lucinda was dead.

Lana was alive.

Those were the only two facts I had, and neither was enough.

I could still see the gun in Lucinda's hand. Hear Lana's frightened breathing. Remember the moment I'd lunged forward and the shot had gone off.

I'd been too late.

"I should have known she'd do something like this," I muttered.

"Alex, stop."

"She came to our house with a gun, Gabrielle. She knew Lana would be there."

"And you didn't know she was coming to kill anyone."

"I should have protected her."

"You tried to stop Lucinda. You can't take responsibility for every decision that woman made."

I looked away.

Gabrielle was trying to help, but nothing she said could change what had happened. Lucinda had brought a gun into our home, and Lana had paid for it.

Our home.

The house Lana and I had chosen together. We'd spent weeks looking at properties, arguing over kitchens and laughing at each other's terrible suggestions. She'd insisted that the place needed a proper workspace for her designs. I'd told her she could have an entire room if she stopped criticising my taste.

She'd laughed and kissed me.

Now I couldn't stop thinking about the blood on the shirt she'd borrowed from me.

"Can I see her?" I asked when a nurse passed us.

"She's still being assessed. We'll let you know as soon as you can go in."

I nodded, though waiting was the last thing I wanted to do.

Gabrielle sat beside me. Neither of us spoke for a while.

I reached into my pocket and felt the edge of the small jewellery pouch I'd been given earlier. Inside was Lana's engagement ring, removed before her procedure and handed over with her other belongings.

I took it out and tipped the ring into my palm.

It looked so small.

I'd slipped it onto her finger when I asked her to marry me. I could still remember the way she'd stared at it before looking up at me, her eyes shining as she said yes.

She'd turned it around her finger ever since, especially when she was thinking. I'd teased her about it more than once.

Now my thumb moved over the smooth band, rolling it slowly between my fingers.

We hadn't had our wedding. There were still plans to make, details to argue over, and a future we hadn't finished building.

I hadn't imagined that the next time I held her ring, she'd be lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

"She's going to need that back," Gabrielle said quietly.

I closed my fingers around it.

"She'll get it back."

I needed to believe that.

A nurse eventually approached us.

"Mr Mercer? You can see Lana now. She's been transferred to recovery, but she needs rest. Please keep your visit brief."

I stood immediately, slipping the ring back into its pouch before putting it in my pocket.

The nurse led me down the corridor and into a quiet room.

Lana lay motionless beneath a white sheet, an IV attached to her arm and monitors beside the bed. Her face was pale, her eyes closed.

For one terrible moment, she looked as though she were already gone.

I moved to her bedside.

"Lana?"

She didn't respond.

I pulled a chair closer and took her hand. It was warm against mine, and I held on as if that small detail could keep her here.

My other hand went to my pocket. I took out the ring again, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.

"You're going to have to wake up and put this back on," I whispered.

The monitor continued its steady rhythm.

I placed the ring carefully in my palm and bent over her hand.

"I know we haven't figured everything out yet. The wedding, the house, all the things you keep telling me we need to plan. You can argue with me about every single one of them when you wake up."

My throat tightened.

"Just don't leave me to do any of it without you."

I pressed her hand against my lips, then lowered it gently onto the bed.

I had spent months learning how to live without Lucinda in my life. I couldn't begin to imagine a world in which Lana wasn't in mine.

I curled my fingers around the ring.

"Please wake up, Lana."