Chapter 43: The Knees and The Crown

 

The warehouse smelled of rust, dead fish, and gasoline. Sunlight sliced through the broken roof, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stagnant air.

Sebastian pushed the warehouse door open. He was alone. He pushed an empty wheelchair in front of him.

"I'm here!" Sebastian’s voice echoed in the vast, empty space. "Isabella! Come out!"

A slow clap echoed from the catwalk above. "Bravo," Isabella’s voice drip with sarcasm. "You actually came alone. And you brought your... throne."

She walked down the metal stairs, her heels clanking. She was wearing a dirty white dress—a mockery of a wedding gown. Her makeup was smeared, making her look like a broken doll. Behind her, the mercenary Kruger dragged a chair into the light.

Tied to the chair was Harper. She was wearing her magnificent Vera Wang wedding dress. The train was soiled with grease and dirt. Her mouth was taped shut. Her eyes were wide with terror. When she saw Sebastian, she started struggling violently, making muffled noises. Mmmph! Mmmph! (Run! Get away!)

Sebastian’s heart stopped. He saw the red mark on her neck from the syringe. He saw the tears tracking through the dust on her face.

He took a step forward. "Let her go."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Isabella pulled out a gun and pressed it to Harper’s temple. "One more step, and the bride loses her head."

Sebastian froze. He raised his hands. "I'm here. I'm the one you hate. Let her go, and I'll stay."

"You look so tall, Sebastian," Isabella tilted her head, looking at him with disgust. "Standing there in your expensive suit. You think you're better than me? You think you won?"

She pointed the gun at the wheelchair. "Sit down."

Sebastian didn't hesitate. He sat in the wheelchair.

"Good," Isabella smiled cruelly. "But that's not enough. You see, Harper fell in love with a cripple. I want to remind her what she really bought."

Isabella walked closer, but kept the gun trained on Harper. "Do you remember the accident three years ago? I was there. I saw you crawling out of the wreck. You looked like a worm. Pathetic."

She pointed to the ground. "Crawl to her."

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I said, Crawl," Isabella screamed. "Get out of that chair! Get on the floor! Like a dog! Crawl to your bride and beg me for her life!"

Harper shook her head frantically. Tears streamed down her face. No! Don't do it! Sebastian, don't!

She knew how much his pride meant to him. He was the King of Sterling Corp. He had spent a year in hell just to stand up. He couldn't do this. Not in front of her. Not in front of his enemy.

Sebastian looked at Harper. He saw the fear in her eyes. Not fear for herself, but fear for him.

He looked at Isabella. "If I crawl," Sebastian said calmly, "you let her go."

"Maybe," Isabella giggled. "If you do it well."

Sebastian took a deep breath. He gripped the armrests. Slowly, painfully, he lowered himself out of the chair.

His expensive suit trousers hit the dirty, oily concrete floor. His knees—those precious, healed knees—slammed against the hard ground. Thud.

Harper closed her eyes, a sob ripping through her taped mouth.

Sebastian didn't look at the floor. He kept his eyes locked on Harper. He placed his hands on the ground. And he began to crawl.

Drag. Pull. Drag. Pull.

It was humiliating. It was degrading. Kruger, the mercenary, laughed. "Look at the big boss now."

But Sebastian didn't care. With every inch he crawled, his love for Harper burned brighter. This is nothing, he told himself. Compared to losing her, this is nothing.

He crawled five meters. Ten meters. His palms were scraped by rusty metal shards on the floor. His knees were bleeding through his trousers.

He reached Harper’s feet. He stopped. He knelt there, looking up at her. He reached out a dirty hand and gently touched her knee.

"Don't cry, Happy Puppy," he whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I'm okay."

Harper looked down at him. She didn't see a broken man. She didn't see a cripple. She saw a giant. A man who would burn the world for her. A man who would throw away his crown just to touch her hand.

"Aww, how touching," Isabella sneered. She walked over, standing over them. "Romeo and Juliet. So tragic."

She raised the gun, aiming it at Sebastian’s head. "But I prefer tragedies where everyone dies."

She clicked the safety off. "Goodbye, Sebastian."

BANG!

A gunshot rang out. Harper screamed behind the tape.

But Sebastian didn't fall. Isabella fell.

She screamed, dropping her gun, clutching her shoulder. Blood bloomed on her white dress.

The shot hadn't come from Isabella. It had come from the skylight above.

Liam.

"Sniper in position!" Liam’s voice boomed from the roof. "Go! Go! Go!"

The warehouse windows shattered simultaneously. Twelve SWAT team members rappelled down on ropes like black spiders.

"Police! Drop your weapons!"

Kruger tried to reach for his gun, but Sebastian—who was still on his knees—moved faster than lightning. He grabbed Kruger’s ankle and yanked. The mercenary lost his balance and fell hard.

Sebastian didn't stay on the floor. Adrenaline flooded his veins. He ignored the pain in his knees. He stood up. He grabbed a rusty pipe from the floor and swung it at Kruger’s head before the man could rise. CLANG. Kruger was out cold.

Isabella was crawling on the floor, trying to reach her gun with her good arm. A shadow fell over her.

She looked up. Sebastian was standing over her. Tall. Imposing. Terrifying. Just like the day of the car accident.

"You..." Isabella gasped, pain and shock in her eyes. "You were crawling..."

"I crawled for her," Sebastian said, his voice cold as the grave. "But for you?"

He kicked the gun away, sending it skittering across the floor. "For you, I stand."

He turned his back on her. He didn't even deem her worthy of another glance. "Liam. Arrest her."

He rushed to Harper. His hands were shaking as he ripped the tape off her mouth. "Harper! Harper, are you hurt? Did she hurt you?"

"Sebastian!" Harper didn't answer. She lunged forward—as much as the ropes allowed—and buried her face in his neck. "You idiot! You stood up! You crawled! You idiot!"

She was crying hysterically. "Why did you do that? Your knees..."

Sebastian quickly untied the ropes. As soon as she was free, she tackled him. They fell onto the dirty floor together, holding each other desperately.

"I love you," Sebastian kissed her hair, her face, her tears. "I love you more than my legs. More than my life."

Harper pulled back, cupping his face. Her wedding dress was ruined. His suit was destroyed. They were covered in dust and blood. But in that moment, in that dirty warehouse, they looked like royalty.

"Let's get out of here," Harper sniffled. "We have a wedding to attend."

Sebastian laughed. A genuine, relieved laugh. "Look at us. We're a mess. We can't go to a wedding like this."

Harper looked at his bleeding knees. She looked at her black-stained dress. She smiled. "Who cares?" "We survived. That's the best look."

She stood up and offered him her hand. "Come on, Mr. Sterling. Can you walk?"

Sebastian took her hand. He grunted as he stood up, his legs protesting. But he stood. "With you? I can fly."