by Marlie May
I rushed him and we grappled for the knife. He crouched and, with one quick move, I lay on my back on the ground, gasping. I rolled to put distance between us and leaped to my feet, hands wide, ready to challenge him again.
But Jim was on me already, anticipating my next move. He jerked the knife forward, and his harsh breathing hit my ear. We grappled, the knife slashing between us. Smoke filled my lungs, and I coughed. The heat was getting to us both, stealing our air.
I redoubled my efforts, striking out with my fist as Jim lunged forward.
Something hit my gut at the same moment a machete stabbed into Jim’s shoulder.
Jim staggered backward, his hands reaching around for the weapon. Blood seeped around his fingers. He pivoted and stumbled forward.
Smoke clouded around us, making it difficult to see.
Jim gasped. His arms spiraled wildly, and he tumbled down inside the hole I’d dug in the ground.
I stumbled forward, falling to my knees. Why didn’t my legs work? They’d gone limp. Just like the rest of me. My body ached. My lungs couldn’t drag in even one speck of air.
My stomach burned.
Mia rushed over to me. “No. Oh, Eli, no.” She dropped to her knees beside me.
When had I fallen to the ground?
“Help me up,” I gasped out, grabbing her arms, trying to rise. “Have to make sure he can’t come after you.”
She pulled up my shirt and wailed. Sobs caught in her throat. “No. Please, no.”
A knife in the gut never did a guy any good.
Mia collapsed against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding tight. Maybe for the last time.
But I couldn’t comfort her until I was sure she was safe. “Mia. Help me up.”
“Lay still. I…I’ve got to do something. We brought a first aid kit, didn’t we?” She looked around frantically. “Where is it? The cabin? Inside your Jeep?” Her voice shrieked out. “Where’s the damn first aid kit?”
“Go,” I said. Every breath shot agony through my belly. Damn, but it hurt. Pain was good. It meant I still lived.
Blood seeped from my belly wound. It cooled as it trickled down my side. My back squished wetly on the grass. A pool must be forming underneath me.
When had I laid down in the grass? I had to get Mia out of here, away from the flames. And Jim…I had to do something about Jim. End this. Keep her safe.
I wouldn’t get out of this one alive, but I’d make sure Mia did.
Jim would be on her in seconds. I wouldn’t be able to defend her. She had to hide.
I didn’t want to be alone when I died, but I’d sure as hell prefer to face this alone than watch the grief shadow her eyes when death took me.
“Do something,” I said. “For me.”
Her hands fidgeted on my belly. She must know she couldn’t pull out the knife without ending this fast, but she must feel she had to do something.
My time for doing anything had passed.
“Go.” Shoving the pain from my mind, I pushed the words out. “Take my Jeep. Keys…my pocket. Run. Hide. Call the cops, tell them it’s Jim. They’ll…keep you safe.”
She reared back, her nostrils flaring. “You think I’m going to leave you here?”
I was used to people leaving me. Funny how this time, I was the one pushing someone I loved away. “Want you…safe.”
Her hands fisted on her thighs. “Here’s the thing you might not have learned about me yet. I’m stubborn. I don’t give up. Not on myself. And not on you.”
“Go.”
“I’m getting you out of here. You’ll just have to deal.” She rose to her feet and grabbed my gun from where it must’ve landed when I fell. “I’ll be right back.”
I lifted my hand to hold her with me, but it dropped limply at my side.
Mia strode down into the ground. She returned moments later. “He’s dead. Broken neck. Good thing.” Sobs broke through her voice. “I would’ve killed him if he hadn’t done it for me.” Lowering herself down beside me, she stroked my forehead. “Hang in there, baby. I’m going to help you.”
I stared into her eyes, reading overwhelming determination. Awe struck me all over again. This woman would never abandon me. Not like Dad. Or anyone else in life.
If only I didn’t have to leave her.
31
Mia
Twenty grueling minutes later, I ground the Jeep to a halt at the gate. I leaped from the vehicle and ran over to enter the code. After shoving the gate wide, I jumped back inside the Wrangler and blazed through the opening. Not stopping to close the gate behind me, I left the dirt road and squealed out onto Route 2.
After I’d made sure Jim was dead, I’d roused Eli enough to get him to his Jeep. I’d kept half an eye on him during the bumpy ride down the dirt road. His breathing continued, but his pulse was thready. Blood dripped steadily down his belly and onto the floor. Its metallic essence filled the air, and I could barely hold back my screams.
I chocked on sobs and held my overwhelming fear inside.
I would not lose him.
Pushing the Jeep for speed, I raced into town and followed signs to the hospital in Lincoln.
Squealing up to the Emergency Room entrance, I popped the vehicle into neutral, yanked on the brake, and bolted inside.
“Help,” I yelled. “A man’s been stabbed. He’s in my vehicle out front.”
The eyes of a woman sitting behind a reception desk widened, and she lifted her phone.
“A knife,” I gasped out. “His belly. It hit his liver. Please, hurry!” I raced back outside and yanked open the passenger door.
For a moment, I thought he was already gone. That he’d passed on without me beside him, holding his hand. But his breath drew in and sputtered out. His heart continued to pulse when I pressed my finger to his throat. He didn’t turn his head or open his eyes, but he still lived.
How long could he keep going?
Behind me, a stretcher banged as nurses and a doctor pushed it off the sidewalk and over to the Jeep.
The doctor took one look at Eli and shouted, “Call a code. And get him the hell out of this vehicle.” He unbuckled Eli while feeling for a pulse. “He’s still with us.”
They eased him onto the stretcher and covered him with a sheet that jutted into the air from the hilt of the knife. Redness soon spread in a circle around it.
Eli’s face. Paler than the sheet, he looked as if death had already called him. I couldn’t bear it. Arms fluttering helplessly at my sides, I clung to the foot of the stretcher and followed them inside.
While Trauma Code, Stat, ER, burst from the speakers overhead, they rushed his stretcher down a hall and wheeled him into an exam room.
I tried to go in with him, because I had to hold his hand. If he didn’t know I was there, pulling for him, he might give up. I had to beg him to keep trying.
“I’m a doctor,” I said as a nurse pulled the curtain closed in front of my face, blocking me out.
She poked her head around the curtain. “You family?”
“No. I’m…his friend.”
Someone who loves him more than anyone else in the world.
Her face softened before she darted a glance over her shoulder. “I’ll let you inside as soon as I can. Since you’re a doctor, you know the routine. We’ve got to stabilize him first.” She pointed. “Wait over there.”
I stumbled over to a chair and dropped down. Straining, I clung to every beep of his heart as it accelerated on the monitor. Too fast. About one-forty. A body’s response to heavy blood loss.
They were losing him.
Someone shouted, “Tube him, stat. And you—” A bang rang out. “I want at least three fourteen-gauge IVs with LR, wide open. Get the lab. Portable film, too. I need to know what we’re dealing with here.”
Propping my elbows on my knees, I dropped my face into my hands. My body crumbled. All I could focus on was the rapid beat of his heart.
Sometime later, th
e nurse approached. She stooped down and pulled my hands away from my face. I jerked upright, pressing my back against the hard, plastic chair. “What? He’s…”
“Hey,” the nurse said. Compassion filled her dark eyes. “You okay?”
I rubbed my forehead. “How’s Eli?” I didn’t need to ask.
The monitor had gone silent.
Tears dripped down my face while my heart fragmented into a thousand pieces. My breath wouldn’t come.
I’d never breathe again.
“He’s in the OR,” the nurse said with more cheer than she should. “We’ve got a great trauma surgeon in-house and she was around, but…”
“You can be honest.” I gulped back grateful tears.
“You know where he was hit.”
Liver.
The nurse gushed on, squeezing my hand tight. “Doctor Lee’s fantastic. The best in the state. If anyone can pull him through, she can.” She rose to her feet and tugged on the hem of her scrub top, smoothing it over her hips. “Let’s take you to the critical care waiting room. He won’t come back here after they’re finished.”
No matter what the outcome.
We rode the elevator and the nurse waited while I used the bathroom to wash Eli’s blood off my hands and splash cold water on my face. She led me inside a small room and gestured to the sofa. “Have a sit. This will take time, but we’ll update you about his progress.” She left and returned with a cup of coffee. “Drink. The caffeine will do you good. You look worn out. You’re not injured, too, are you?”
“No.” The word could barely escape my tight throat. I swallowed what felt like a year’s worth of dust and shook my head. “I’m fine.”
Unless Eli lived, I’d never be fine.
The coffee grew cold before I took my first sip. It slid down, and while the caffeine shocked my bones, a dull ache consumed my head. It matched the ache expanding against my chest wall.
While I wanted to curl into a ball and sob, I would stay strong. If…no, when Eli pulled through, I’d be here for him, standing by his side.
I called Flint and explained what happened.
“Ah, Mia. I’m sorry. And Eli…” His voice grew tight.
I could almost picture him straightening up from whatever wall he’d slumped against, tightening his spine. He’d mourn after he hung up but for now, he’d be strong for his sister.
“I’ll call Uncle Sid,” he said.
Perfect. We needed him.
“He’ll deal with the cops. Don’t worry about a thing. They’ll, um, take care of the body. Clean up the scene.”
“Make it look like an accident?” In some ways, it was. While the machete might’ve caused him pain and the nutmeg made him loopy, Jim had fallen on his own. He’d died while trying to kill Eli and me.
A long silence followed before Flint said, “Don’t worry about all that. Just be there for Eli. I’m in Mexico right now. They flew Gabe to a trauma center in Florida but Haylee’s not stable enough to travel.”
“Haylee? What happened to Haylee?” Why was she in Mexico? As if I had to ask.
“It was an…accident.”
“What? What? Haylee?” My body went limp as it took another emotional blow. Haylee worked for Flint which meant whatever happened was anything but a simple accident.
“I’ll get home as soon as I can,” my brother said.
“Thank you.” My words came out dull because my worry for Eli was now compounded by overwhelming fear for Haylee.
My heart was frozen. Broken. What would I do if they didn’t make it?
After we ended the call, I scooted back on the sofa. I drew up my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I couldn’t stop shivering, even though the room was warm.
All I could do was stare at the wall. And pray.
Then I called Ginny. She sobbed in the phone and said she’d call their mom and come wait with me.
The coffee grew colder. As did I. People passed in the hall, but no one came inside the waiting room other than the nurse, who poked her head through the opening only long enough to say, “They’re still working on him.”
It wasn’t enough. I had to be with him, touch him, help him hold on. Give him my strength, because I owed him tenfold.
Ginny and she and Eli’s mom arrived a few hours later, while I was still waiting. We hugged and cried, and it’s surprising how quickly you can form a bond with someone you’ve never met before when you’re brought together to pray for the survival of someone you love.
Eli had his mom’s eyes.
We held hands for a while then drifted to our own chairs, me on the sofa.
Hours went by. More time after that. Each moment leaching away more of my hope.
About eight hours after Eli went to the OR, Ginny’s mom stood and stretched. “I’m going to go to the cafeteria for some coffee.”
“Awesome idea,” Ginny said, also standing. The half-smile she directed my way was as welcome as a hug. “Come with us?”
I couldn’t leave. Not even for caffeine. And I couldn’t imagine ever eating or drinking anything again. Not until I knew Eli would live through this.
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here. Just in case they come out and look for us.”
“You’ve got my cell,” Ginny said. Crossing the room, she rubbed my shoulder. “Hang in there. Eli’s tough.” A sob broke through her words, echoed inside me. “I’ll bring you coffee.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
After they left, I stared at swirling patterns on the thin carpet.
“Excuse me.” A woman wearing blue scrubs and a thin cap on her head stood in the doorway. She advanced inside the room, her booted feet padding softly. “Are you Mia?”
If I denied the name, would the woman leave? Then she could tell someone else that Eli was dead. I couldn’t bear to hear those words. Hands pressed to my chest, I rose from the sofa and took a step forward. My legs buckled, but I remained on my feet while my body spasmed. I’d held the crunched-up position for too long. Through the window, a pink and yellow sunset filled the sky. Would tonight be Eli’s last and the end of everything for me?
Be tough. If not myself, for Eli. “Yes. I’m Mia.”
The woman drew closer. And smiled. “I’m Doctor Lee. I’ve been working on your friend.” She brushed a strand of straight black hair off her forehead, tucking it back underneath her cap. Her dark eyes, red-rimmed, met mine. “He’s going to be okay.” Taking my hand, she led me back to the sofa and patted the flowered cushion. “You look like you need to sit again.”
“Yeah.” Had the woman truly said Eli was going to be okay? Or had I imagined it? A spark of hope filled me, flickering in the dim light. “Eli’s mom and sister are here. Well, they went to the cafeteria.”
“Wonderful. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see family.” The woman’s grin widened as she dropped to the chair beside the sofa. She sighed and rubbed her face. “It was a tough case, but we got him through. His liver…well, after he recovers, he’s going to be all right.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you.” With a sudden burst of energy, I jumped to my feet. “Can I see him?”
“Sure. Follow me.” Doctor Lee led me out into the hall where she paused to tell a nurse to wait for Eli’s mom and Ginny and to send them into Eli’s room once they returned.
I followed Doctor Lee through a set of double doors and into the critical care unit. “He’s sleeping,” she said over her shoulder as she walked into a room with wide glass doors. The curtain had been pulled, but she brushed it aside. “His vitals are stable. I think it’s going to take something tougher than a liver laceration to knock this man down.”
“Eli’s strong. He’s…the best there is.”
The doctor patted my arm and then drew me closer to the bed. “Sit with him. He won’t wake for a while due to the sedation and pain killers, but he’ll know you’re here. Even unconscious, patients can tell.”
While the doctor left, I dragged a chair closer to the bed. I reached s
lowly through the rail and took his hand. I squeezed it carefully, not wanting to hurt him further. His fingers remained limp in my hand.
A nurse entered the room. She crossed over to the monitor and stared at it. Stared at Eli. The monitor again. “Lookin’ good. He’s recovering nicely. Do you have any questions for me?”
I shook my head. The hows and whys and what might come next could wait. Right now, I just wanted to drink in the knowledge that he would be okay.
And be here for him when he woke.
“Can I get you something, then?” the nurse asked. “Water?”
“Sure.”
She left and returned with a covered cup with a straw peeking from the top. “Here you go. Something to eat, too? We don’t have much, but I can offer crackers.” She smiled. “Or crackers. There’s a machine in the lounge, and I’m happy to get you something from the kitchen.”
“I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks, though.” I took a sip of water and savored the coldness gliding down my throat. Funny how such a simple thing could bring a spark of pleasure.
“I’ll be out at the desk but push the call bell if you need anything.” At my nod, the nurse left.
I stared at Eli’s pale face, starkly white against his dark blond hair. With my knuckles, I carefully stroked his bristly cheek, but he still didn’t respond. His lungs rose and fell, even, sure. And the monitor beeped steadily. Heart rate eighty. Decent BP. Oxygen levels were good, too. They were numbers he could live with.
Unable to bear it any longer, I stood and dropped the side rail. Not caring what anyone thought, I lifted the covers. They’d cut off his clothing and he wore only a cotton gown. I couldn’t bear to think he might be cold.
Holding back my sob, I crawled up onto the bed and lowered myself slowly down beside him. After carefully snuggling into his side, with one arm crossing his chest and my other beneath his neck, I imagined myself feeding him strength. He could take all I had to give.
I sighed. He smelled like smoke and medicine but a faint hint of Eli still lingered. I closed my eyes and pulled it in.
Tears trickled down my face, but they weren’t from fear. They were from relief.