Live Without You

by Sarah Grace Grzy

  “Paul! You can’t leave me!” Great shuddering sobs shook her body and red emergency lights garishly mixed with the red blood that swirled around her . . .

  Piper jerked awake and sat straight up, staring wildly around her, her heartbeat racing and the throb in her shoulder matching it beat for beat. Her skin was damp and chilled, but she felt hot, and swiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

  They were back.

  The nightmares had haunted—tormented—her for over a year after Paul’s death, and slowly, ever so slowly, disappeared with the changing of the seasons. Disappeared for good, she thought, but apparently not. Piper wiped at the wetness rolling down her cheeks and took a deep breath, willing her heart and mind—along with the tears—to stop racing. But the tears only came faster.

  Why? Hadn’t she suffered enough without having to relive it?

  Why, God?

  As usual, there was no reply. But then, she hadn’t been expecting one. There hadn’t been one for years. Somewhere along the years after Paul’s death, the answers stopped coming. They just faded away. At one time, God had answered her prayers, her questions. She’d known He was there—had felt His love. But the silence had grown, as had the emptiness in her heart. First Paul left, then God Himself did, too. Leaving her alone and lonely.

  She knew the “good-Christian-answers” to such thoughts: God will never leave us nor forsake us and all that. But then why did He feel so far away?

  Piper angrily shoved those thoughts away and stood up off the couch. She took two steps, only to find herself falling, dizziness clutching her. Instinctively, she reached her left arm out to break her fall. Then gasped when pain flowed like an electrical current through her body as her shoulder took her weight. She whimpered and curled her arm towards her chest, rocking back and forth and letting the tears she’d shoved away earlier flow hot and fast.

  The stupid sling. She’d taken it off and tossed it on the floor when she’d crashed to the couch, exhausted, and now it stabbed her in the back by tripping her. She sent it a glare. Knowing her luck, she probably ripped out her stitches. She cringed and palmed away the tears before gingerly peeking under the bandage on her shoulder. She gulped when she saw the gruesome sight for the first time. It was black and blue, and the skin was mangled and held together by black thread. It oozed a little, but it didn’t look like she pulled out any stitches. Sighing in relief, she sat back on the couch and tugged the traitorous sling back over her forearm and tightened the straps around her now-throbbing shoulder.

  It was definitely time again for some of those pain meds the doctor had given her. And some hot cocoa.

  Yes, definitely hot cocoa.

  She grabbed two of the tiny white pills from the bottle on the coffee table and downed them, then headed to the kitchen and poured milk in the little pot that sat on her stove for just such occasions. Adding a dash of vanilla extract and a pinch of salt, unsweetened cocoa powder and a tablespoon of sugar, she awkwardly stirred it with her right hand.

  She knew she should have taken that dare from her brother to teach herself to be ambidextrous. The memory tugged up the corners of her lips. Before she pushed it away.

  Remembering only hurt.

  But all she could seem to do lately was remember—whether she liked it or not. With the recent . . . interesting events in her life, she shouldn’t have been surprised. The brain worked in funny ways. First getting shot—of all things—then Paul’s best friend showing up, saving her life.

  Piper shook her head. The coincidences were far from amusing. She must have known in her subconscious that Ezra had moved to Washington. But for them to both end up in the same small town of Arlington in the northern end of the state? Perhaps not coincidence. Maybe it had been God leading her here . . . She snorted at the thought, then jumped as the cocoa mixture on the stove started to bubble over. She flicked the burner off and carefully poured the contents of the pot into her favorite turquoise mug.

  Well, if God truly did lead her to cross paths with Ezra Bryant then it was strange that He’d been so silent on other matters.

  E zra grabbed the blue medic bag and jumped out of the ambulance before his partner, Tyler Collens, had even shifted into park. It was a cardiac arrest call, and there was no time for dillydallying.

  Not that there ever was as a paramedic.

  He jogged up the front porch steps of a small, ’80s-style ranch house, and, before he could even knock, a plump, out-of-breath woman with gray hair hurriedly greeted him and led him through the house, Tyler not far behind. Reaching the living room, he found an ashen-faced man with hair that matched his wife’s slumped on the couch. Ezra’s adrenaline flowed and his mind spun as he rapidly assessed the situation. He checked the man’s vitals and asked the woman routine questions as Tyler readied the AED machine.

  No heartbeat. Ezra grunted. “Not today,” he muttered as he shifted the man to lay on the floor, then ripped open the victim’s shirt and started CPR while Tyler slapped on the AED pads.

  “Clear,” Tyler called.

  Ezra leaned back and held his breath as the electricity jolted the man’s body.

  Stepping forward again, he checked the man’s vitals. Still nothing. No, no, no. I can’t deal with this right now, Lord.

  They repeated the procedure twice more, following the machine’s robotic orders, and Ezra’s own heart sank as each minute passed with no signs of life. Finally, he breathed a sigh of a relief at the rewarding thud, thud, thud of the man’s heart. Ezra and Tyler worked to transfer the man onto the stretcher and lift him into the ambulance while trying not to trip over the hovering, now-weeping wife. They worked so well together, they didn’t even have to communicate their moves to the other.

  Tyler Collens had been his partner for seven of the eight years Ezra had been a paramedic in Arlington, and they had quickly become close friends. Tyler had been the first to give him a true welcome after moving in, and now was practically a brother.

  Nearly as close as Paul had been.

  By the time they made it back to the department, their shift had ended. After collecting his duffel and other items from the locker room, Ezra pushed out the back door and struck out across the parking lot, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he went. His back muscles screamed from the tension of the day and a headache throbbed at the base of his skull. Memories he didn’t want pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind. He thought he’d dealt with them years ago, but they still came back at the most unwanted times.

  His mom. Pale and unresponsive on the floor. Him on his knees beside her, sweat and tears dripping off his face as he administered CPR. For ten minutes. Then fifteen. Until ambulance sirens sounded outside their house and a paramedic tugged him back. His dad knelt behind him, an arm wrapped around his shuddering shoulders as Ezra doubled over under the unutterable pain that cleaved through his heart at the knowledge that his mother’s heart had stopped.

  Forever.

  He’d only been gone for twenty minutes. Twenty mere minutes. But it was too long, and he was too late.

  He’d failed her when she needed him the most.

  A car alarm blared and he jumped, startled out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Tyler—still in his steel-gray paramedic’s uniform—leaning against the side of Ezra’s car, a smirk making a white gash through the blond stubble on his chin. Ezra rolled his eyes and cleared the emotion in his throat as he punched the panic button on the fob to turn off the alarm.

  “Don’t you have something better to do with your day than giving me a headache—literally?” Ezra tossed his things in the back of the car and gave Tyler a shove. “And don’t touch my car.” He walked around to the driver’s side door and slid in. Ty crammed his large frame in on the opposite side with a grumble under his breath that sounded like an insult towards his car.

  “Hey, talk nice about my baby.” Ezra elbowed him.

  Ty just rolled his eyes. “So what do you wanna do?” It seemed that Ezra was Tyler’s only source of
entertainment these days with how much he wanted to hang out. “Energizer Bunny Ty” also didn’t sleep—ever, apparently. And if he did, Ezra wasn’t sure when it was.

  Ezra tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, thinking, then cranked up the heat before answering. “Man, it’s freezing today. Listen, if I let you meet someone, will you behave yourself?”

  Tyler straightened in his seat and sent a wide-eyed stare to Ezra. “Dude, is it a girl?”

  Ezra groaned and thumped the man on the back of the head. “Yeah, it is, but it’s not like that.” His dating life—or lack thereof—was under constant scrutiny of the guys at the department, and while Tyler didn’t actually date either, that didn’t stop him from joining in on the fun.

  “C’mon man, spill it.”

  Ezra took a deep breath and let it out at the niggling of guilt that wormed its way through his heart. “I had a buddy back in Chicago. We went to high school together, and roomed together through college, until I . . . came here after my mom died.” What he wouldn’t give to change that day . . . and several other also terrible days. “Anyway, I treated his sister—whom he was really close with—the other day, and she told me her brother had died.” Ezra paused and stared out the window and Tyler exhaled on a low whistle.

  “Aw, I’m sorry, Ez.” One of the things Ezra appreciated about Tyler was that while he could be a goofball, he also knew when to be serious.

  Ezra shook his head. “It’s fine.” Sort of. Not really. “But anyway, she’s basically housebound and doesn’t know anybody here—except for some nurse.” He chuckled. “So I thought she might like some company.”

  Tyler let out a laugh. “Nurse? You mean Cecile Tompkins?”

  Ezra slanted him a look. “I think that was her name—why?”

  Tyler practically hooted—his booming laugh filling the small amount of airspace in the car. “How do you not know Cecile? Everybody knows Cecile.” He chuckled again and shook his head. “She’s a sweet lady. A real character.”

  Ezra raised his brows. “O-kay then. So, you in?”

  “Sure. Anybody Cecile likes is a good egg.” He laughed again. Ezra just shook his head and pulled out his phone to text Piper with the offer of company and pizza. Her response came within minutes.

  Aw, you don’t have to do that! But I’ve made it a rule to never turn down free pizza . . . ;)

  Ezra chuckled and sent a reply as Tyler continued to amuse himself cracking jokes.

  Hey, that sounds like a rule I can get behind. Be there in a bit.

  He dropped his phone in the cup holder and turned up the volume on the radio, sending Tyler a pointed look to get him to shut up. “I told you to behave.”

  “Yeah man, I will . . . when we get there. By the way,” Tyler pointed an accusatory finger Ezra’s direction. “Why are you so uptight lately?”

  Ezra sent him a glare before merging into the mid-morning traffic. “I’m not uptight.”

  “Yeah, you are. You about hyperventilated when that guy’s heart wouldn’t start this morning.”

  Ezra frowned, keeping his eyes on the road. “I did not.”

  “You did.” Tyler paused, then his tone softened in understanding. “You gotta leave the past in the past, Ez. It’s where it belongs.”

  “What are you, my shrink now?” he growled.

  His bitter comment had Ty sending him a whipped-puppy-dog look. Funny how such a big, rough-and-tumble-looking guy could so effectively pull off that particular look. His poor parents.

  Ezra sighed, his frustration draining. “I’m sorry, Ty.”

  Tyler nodded. “We’re good. But you still need to lighten up.”

  “I’d really lighten up if you pay for the pizza.”

  “What? No way, dude!” Tyler protested. “It’s your date!”

  Ezra groaned and slapped a hand against the wheel instead of Tyler’s head. “It’s not a date!”

  Tyler just cackled gleefully.

  Piper one-handedly sent her text reply to Ezra and sat back down with a groan.

  No, no, no. This was a bad idea. Why didn’t she think this through? She didn’t need more people in her life. Actually, she didn’t have any people in her life . . . just the way it should be.

  But then why did she feel so lonely?

  Piper groaned again and stomped to her room, pulling off her sling as she went to change out of the PJ’s she’d lived in for the past few days. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a comfy tunic, she ran around the house, tidying up, shutting down her large desktop computer and tucking the myriad of cords away. The house could use a thorough dusting and who knew when the bathroom had last been cleaned . . . But there wasn’t time to do everything and she only had so much energy.

  If only she could keep the house clean, her parents would love her . . . if only she were prettier, her parents would love her . . . if only she were popular, talked more, didn’t have deadbeat parents, people would like her. . . .

  If onlys were ugly things.

  The ring of the doorbell called her thoughts to a halt. This was Ezra. He didn’t care if she was or wasn't any of those things. He was like Paul.

  Like Paul.

  She sniffed and banished those thoughts as she strode across the living room to reach the entryway. Pulling the door open, she was greeted by Ezra’s grin and the garlic-and-oregano scent of pizza.

  Ezra hefted the pizza boxes into view and spoke. “I come bearing pizza!”

  “Even if you didn’t have visible proof, I could still smell them. Come on in.”

  He laughed and stepped past her, followed by The Incredible Hulk himself. Piper’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Ezra’s friend. He was even wearing a forest-green sweatshirt. Ezra spoke up from behind her. “Piper, this is my partner and buddy, Tyler Collens. Ty, Piper Redding.”

  Tyler Collens was a solid, six-foot-three hunk of humanity with blond hair and mischievous blue eyes, a contrast to Ezra’s slimmer build and dark hair. Piper offered her hand to shake, but with a roguish grin, Tyler took it and kissed the back of it.

  “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  She laughed. “The pleasure is mine. I think.”

  Tyler chuckled and Ezra shook his head. “Now you know the knucklehead. You’ll probably be sorry I ever introduced you.”

  Piper just giggled and pushed the door closed against the softly falling snow and led them towards the kitchen. She pulled dishes from the cupboard as Ezra opened the pizza boxes and Tyler deposited himself on a dining chair as if he owned the place. As she stretched to reach an upper shelf for drinking glasses, she unconsciously used her left arm. She barely contained a groan, settling for a grimace instead, but Ezra was too perceptive. He gently nudged her out of the way and pulled the glasses out of the cabinet for her. “Where’s your sling?” he asked in the scolding tone she was all-too-familiar with. Ezra had always had a tendency to play mother hen.

  “Um. I took it off and forgot to put it back on.”

  Ezra tsked teasingly. “Now, what happens if you slip and fall and tear your stitches out? Don’t expect me to be taking you to the hospital again.”

  Piper could feel her face turning red. “Funny you should say that . . .”

  He rounded to face her. “Piper Redding, what did you do?!”

  “Nothing!” she protested. “It was all the sling’s fault. I took it off to rest for a bit, and it tripped me when I tried to stand up.”

  “It tripped you . . .”

  She nodded.

  Ezra laughed, as did Tyler. “I've missed the Redding family humor. Are you okay, though?” His tone turned serious.

  She grinned up at him. “Peachy. And before you ask, I didn’t pull out any stitches.”

  “Splendid. Now go put that traitorous sling back on and don’t take it off again.”

  Piper gave a mock salute. “Bossy.” Bantering with him felt so natural, as if nothing had happened in the last nine years. She’d rather missed the camaraderie of having a friend.

/>   She walked to her room to grab the sling as Tyler piped up.

  “You tell him! He’s the bossiest man alive. Maybe he'll listen to you because he sure doesn't listen to me!”

  “Well, he never has in the past, but maybe he’ll take pity on me now that I’m injured,” Piper shot over her shoulder.

  Ezra shook his head in exasperation. “Not a chance. And I’m not bossy.” Sending a glare to his friend, he added, “And stop talking about me like I’m not here. Or you won’t get any pizza.”

  Tyler turned his back on Ezra and faced Piper, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “See? What'd I tell ya?”

  She giggled and shook her head as she tugged on the sling. Ezra slapped pizza onto plates and set them on the table as Tyler continued to harass him.

  Maybe having friends wasn’t such a bad idea. . . .

  No. Piper slammed the lid on that thought before it even finished percolating. Loving someone invariably meant that they would leave someday and leave her alone . . . again. It was better to just not love, then no one could hurt you. She didn’t need people and they clearly didn't need her. And that was that.

  She sat down at the table and Ezra offered his hand. She stared at it, then his face for a brief few seconds before placing her hand in his. Of course he would presume to ask the blessing over their meal. He would take for granted that that was what she did. And she had. Until she’d realized the futility of praying to One who didn’t listen. It was like trying to talk to her parents.

  After Ezra finished the short prayer, they dug in and Tyler launched into telling funny stories about their job. Piper only half-listened, distractedly inserting forced chuckles when needed. She hadn’t realized she’d zoned out completely until Ezra tapped her forehead.

  “Earth to Piper—helloo, anyone home?”

  “Oh, I’m—I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She looked back and forth between the two men, both of whom were looking at her with an odd look on their faces. “What?” She flushed under their scrutiny.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Ezra asked.