by Kira Berger
“Stay the fuck away from him, you motherfucking pyscho,” I snarl. I don’t want this psychopath anywhere near Duncan, not that I think she’d have a shot, but because just the thought of her, or anyone, really, anywhere near him brings out the jealousy in me. “You go anywhere near him, I’ll find a way to kill you myself.” I know my threat is empty, but it feels good to say it.
Her laughter fills the room once more. The sense of doom I’ve felt since I opened my eyes intensifies. This is going from bad to worse by the minute.
“I’d like to see you try.” She moves again, and I try in vain to escape my shackles. She grabs me by the hair yet again. I stare into her brown eyes swirling with hate and lunacy when I feel something cold press against my chin. I freeze knowing exactly what it is. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she says with sarcasm heavy in her voice, “you’re bound to a fucking chair with nowhere to go. You can’t do fuck all right now but sit here and take whatever I want to dish out.”
She sighs long and deep as if she’s getting tired of playing with me. “Anyway, I have to wrap this up. I’m getting tired of spending all my time with you. I got shit to do.”
Her intent is clear, not just because of her words, but her face is cheerful for the first time since I woke up in this room, like she can’t wait for what’s about to happen. Even though I know it’s useless my survival instinct kicks in. I pull on my handcuffs with all my strength, ignoring how the metal rips deeper into my skin. I scream, both from the physical pain and the hopelessness of the situation. I let it all out, one last time, and I yell my anger, fear, and loathing toward Kendra and myself into the air.
Instead of anger, I see pleasure on Kendra’s face while she watches me writhe in agony and takes a step back. Her gun cocks one more time as she raises her arms slowly, pointing the barrel straight at my face.
I close my eyes. Her face isn’t going to be the last thing I see when she pulls the trigger. Instead I picture Duncan again. His blond hair in need of a haircut, his eyes shining with love and acceptance. His sinful lips and how they used to worship my body. How he would always take care of me. How he isn’t bothered by my incessant babbling when I’m nervous, my love for slam poetry, or weird obsession with sea creatures who can’t swim.
They say that life flashes in front of your eyes when you’re about to die, and for me, that’s definitely true. My mind is filled with images of Duncan, the one person who has become the most important part of my life over the last month.
I don’t open my eyes but concentrate on the one person I love most when I hear, “Die, bitch,” followed by a loud pop sound shattering the air.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The world around me explodes in noise and pain.
My vision goes dark while agony I’ve never felt before is ripping through my body. I slump forward in my chair with the handcuffs preventing me from falling to the floor. The pain is so intense, I hear no sounds besides the ones from my erratic breathing and the rushing noise inside my head.
This is it. I’m going to die in this chair.
I might never be able to tell Duncan just how much I love him, but at least I was blessed to spend some time with him. Even though it’s only been a little over a month, it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. And I know, while he might miss me for a while, he’ll move on and find happiness with someone else. A thought that’s killing me, but at least he’ll be happy, just like I have been during my time with him.
With a deep sigh I let every positive emotion he’s filled me with flow through my body and drive out the darkness my past has tried to drag me down with.
The pain is slowly fading to the background while numbness is invading my body. I’m so focused on the pain that rocked my body, I’m not prepared for the noise suddenly rushing back to me and surrounding me, and I jerk painfully upright in my chair.
The scene in front of me shocked me to my core due to its unexpectedness.
Brendan has a struggling Kendra pressed against the wall trying to subdue her. Vaguely I wonder if she’s on something the way she keeps struggling, somewhat successfully, against a man twice her size who’s trained for situations like this one. I mean, if there is ever a time for anyone to give up and stop struggling I’d say it’s when a two-hundred-pound, trained police officer has you face first against a flat surface and is placing zip ties on you.
I’m watching, weirdly fascinated, while they struggle. When he finally succeeds in subduing her, he turns toward me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it’s not a happy one that’s for sure.
He grabs his phone from his pocket, presses a couple buttons, and holds it against his ear all the while rushing over to me. “This is Officer McLean speaking. I need an ambulance stat! Victim was shot…” I tune out whatever else he says into his phone.
Shot. One word that reverberates through my system and finally pulls me out of whatever weird frame of mind I was in.
Shot.
I might have known on some level I was shot, but deep down I was holding out hope that it was all just a bad joke and not my reality. The human mind is a wondrous thing, even while in the midst of a nightmare it is capable of shielding you from just how bad it has become.
I jerk when my face is suddenly grabbed by two strong hands. They aren’t soft like the ones I’ve gotten used to over the last few weeks, but calloused and rough.
“Alex!” Brendan yells at me and lightly slaps my cheek to get me to focus on him. “Hold on, honey. An ambulance is on its way. You’ll be just fine.”
His voice is soothing and reassuring, but I know it doesn’t look good. I’ve become numb to the pain and everything else around me. My body is shutting down. At least he, and Duncan, and Emma are safe now. No one else will get hurt because of me.
I smile slightly, appreciating what he’s trying to do. “I—” I try, but a cough interrupts me. I moan, the pain is invading my body out of the blue and ripping my peaceful state of mind to shreds.
Brendan lets go of me and I feel him fiddling around with the handcuffs still tying me to the chair. When I’m loose, I’m lifted in the air and we start moving to what I assume is the exit. The movement only causes pain to radiate through my body again and I cry out. I want the numbness back.
“Listen to me, honey. You gotta hold on, okay? You can’t do this to my brother. He won’t be able to live without you. The grief will destroy him.”
“He’s mad at me,” I whisper.
“He’ll get over it, but you need to fight. Do you hear me? Don’t fucking leave him!” His voice is insistent, and I look at his face. This time it’s easy to read, the worry and fear edged clearly into the strong lines of his face.
And I know, he’s not sure I’ll make it either. “Can you do me a favor?” I barely recognize my own voice it’s so weak, but I power through. I need to get this out; I need Duncan to know, just in case. “Tell him… Tell Duncan I love him, ’kay? He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll—I’ll miss him.”
“Don’t you fucking dare talk like this, Alex!” he shouts, but it’s like I hear his voice through a tunnel, getting quieter by the second. “You’ve come so far, honey. Don’t give up now…”
The last thing I see before darkness engulfs me whole are blue eyes the same shade as Duncan’s as his brother begs me not to give up.
Too bad I suck at listening to people, or I wouldn’t be here.
Chapter Twenty-Four
~Duncan~
Alex was shot.
She was shot.
Shot.
Those words keep playing in my mind, torturing me.
I’m sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in the hospital waiting room, waiting impatiently to hear whether or not the woman I love makes it out of surgery alive. I’m trying to stay positive, to tell myself she’ll fight to stay, fight for us.
But I’m failing.
My heart is breaking, thinking back to the last time I saw her. The words I said but didn
’t mean. Reacting to what she said, even though I knew she didn’t mean it the way it sounded but was just frustrated from being cooped up and on guard all the time. How I just walked out on her without a backward glance, thinking I’ll give us some space before we’ll talk it out later that night. Never in a million years did I think I might not ever see her again.
See her smile or hear her laugh.
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts and guilt of what happened I’m startled when someone sits down next to me and places an arm around my shoulders.
“She’s gonna pull through, bro,” Brendan tries to reassure me.
“You can’t know this,” I mutter, slowly losing hope.
“I can. That woman is a fighter; she had to be to survive her past. You just have to have faith in her. She’ll come back to you.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say and drop my face into my hands. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t, Brendan. She’s everything I ever wanted in a woman, even when she’s driving me insane, or talking incessantly about books or sea creatures. I love her. She has to come back to me.” I can hear my voice break. I’m supposed to be strong for her, but I can’t, not when I might be about to lose her.
“She will,” is his only response.
After that, we sit in those uncomfortable chairs and wait. Wait to see a doctor walk through the door, wait for news—good or bad. I barely notice when Emma comes rushing through the doors and into Brendan’s arms, tears streaming down her face. He must have called her because all I’m capable of doing is staring at the door, praying for a miracle.
Hours later, the doors open, and Tom and Luna hurry through the door toward Brendan. I guess he called them as well. They must have jumped on the first flight out. I met them briefly at the Labor Day party where I saw Alex for the first time. I still cringe at the way we met, but when I stared into her eyes when she walked out of the bathroom, I stopped thinking, I just acted. They ensnared me. They were filled with anguish and secrets, and I wanted nothing more than to uncover all of them.
I just wish I had been there to protect her the way I promised I would until I let her push me away. I should have never walked away to give her the space she asked for.
Brendan and Emma stand to greet them. I stay seated, staring at the door, as if I just do it intently enough I can force them to open. I tune out their conversation, not in the mood for meaningless pleasantries, not when the most important person in my life might be dying.
I don’t notice the four of them staring at me. But I hear Brendan excusing my rudeness. “He’s not handling it well.” That’s an understatement. I’m coming loose at the seams, slowly unraveling in my hopelessness.
When someone sits down next to me, I know it’s not Brendan. The person is too quiet, Brendan can’t move around quietly unless his life depended on it.
“Duncan,” I hear Luna say from next to me. “I wish we didn’t meet again under these circumstances, but you have to believe she’ll pull through this.”
I sigh, getting frustrated with everyone telling me to keep faith while we still have no fucking news on her condition. The doctors nor the nurses have deigned to come out to tell us anything. “You can’t know this.”
“I can,” she contradicts me. “She won’t leave you behind, she’s not capable of leaving the people she loves behind. It’s her best and worst quality.”
“How do you know? I said some terrible things to her. Wha–what if she can’t forgive me?” I voice my worst fear to the woman who knows Alex better than anyone.
“She loves you. I know she does. She sounded so happy when I spoke to her last, happier than I’ve ever heard her since I’ve known her. And the reason she for her happiness is you, Duncan. You made her so happy she finally sounded like her old self again. She’ll come back because she won’t leave that behind, not if she can help it.” Her hand moves to firmly grip mine, giving me strength at the same time. “Have faith in her.”
I stare at our hands, her small one holding on to mine, and it’s oddly comforting. I’m not the only one who’s terrified. None of us can know for sure if she’ll pull through, all we can do is stay positive and have faith.
We sit like this for so long I lose track of time. The silence between us is only broken by coffee runs and small reassurances. I don’t move from my seat, afraid I’ll miss the doctor coming through those doors. Instead I sit or pace the room.
After what feels like forever, the doors open and a tired looking doctor walks through. “Family of Alexandria Weber?” she speaks to the room.
We all jump up and rush her. “How is she?” I ask out of breath. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my body. I pray to whoever is listening that she’s all right. She has to be.
“I’m Doctor Holloway. I’m a trauma surgeon here.” Her smile is reassuring and calm like she hasn’t just spent the majority of the evening operating on my woman. “Miss Weber is still in critical condition, but we were able to repair the damage the bullet caused.” A collective sigh of relief from the group is heard and my shoulders relax.
She’s alive.
Words I have been praying to hear for the last few hours are replacing the ones which have been tormenting me.
“Can we see her?” I ask, eager to see her face, hold her, and reassure myself she’s alive and breathing.
“She’s currently being transferred to the ICU. Her injuries are pretty severe. The bullet missed her heart and major arteries. However, the immense blood loss was our biggest concern. We were able to repair the damage. We’re still worried about a possible sepsis, but if she makes it through the night, she should make a full recovery,” Dr. Holloway reassures us. “A nurse will come to get you when she’s ready for visitors. But please remember we can only allow two of you to go in at the same time.” With that she sends us all another reassuring smile and turns to leave.
“Thank you, Doctor Holloway,” I tell her back.
Her reply, “You’re welcome,” can be heard just before the doors close behind her.
The relief of hearing the doctor say she’s alive flowing through my system is so immense I drop to my knees. “She’s alive,” I whisper, unaware and uncaring of the other people in the room. “She’s alive.”
I can’t hear anything going on around me, and I don’t snap out of it until an arm lands across my shoulders. “Did you hear that, bro? She’s pulled through, she’s gonna be fine.” With that, he helps me to my feet.
I look at the small group, the people who love Alex nearly as much as I do. And if this whole ordeal has taught me anything, it’s that I’m head over heels in love with her. And I plan to spend the rest of my life showing her just how much she means to me. There won’t ever be a day she doesn’t know what it’s like to be loved by me. Walking away will never be an option for me, not after feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest when I thought she might die.
I smile at Brendan, the first one since he called me hours ago. “Thanks, man. For being there when she needed you and saving her life.”
“Hey, it was your brilliant idea to equip her phone with a tracking device. It was pure luck I was tracking her movement after you called me when you left. Following her when she took a weird turn and made her way into the city is what I’m trained to do,” he says modestly, waving any praise away. “But I’m glad I was there, too, trust me. She’s great, and I love her for you.” He slaps me on my back before he keeps going, making a joke. “You better put a ring on it though, before she gets sick of you and dumps your ass.”
“Brendan!” I can hear Emma reprimand from our left, and when I look at her, I can see her standing there with her hands on her hips.
“Ah shit,” I mutter to Brendan. “You’re in trouble, big brother.”
Emma continues, “Don’t say that stuff after what just happened. Jesus,” she huffs before turning to me. “Alex isn’t gonna leave you; she loves you too much.”
I move toward her chuckling. She’s cute when
she’s all fired up, and I understand what Brendan sees in her. She’s good for him. I hope he doesn’t screw things up with her, but his ex-fiancée really did a number on him, so the jury is still out on that one.
I place an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the scowl Brendan shoots my way, and tell her, “I know, babe. I know, and as soon as she wakes up she’ll know I feel the same way about her.”
“Good,” is her only reply before she moves away from me toward Brendan. As soon as she gets close, my brother claims her and pulls her close.
I’m watching my brother when a male voice grabs our attention. “Family of Alexandria Weber?” This causes all of us to turn and look at him. He’s dressed in green scrubs and the nametag identifies him as Anderson. Before I can pepper him with questions, he continues, “She’s ready to have visitors—two at a time.”
I move toward him before he even finishes speaking. I don’t care if this makes me a selfish asshole, but I can’t wait another minute to see her, reassure myself that she’s alive, hold her. I need to be there for her. I’ve failed her today; I’m done failing her.
I feel someone move next to me and a small hand is slipped into mine. “Let’s go see how our girl is doing,” Luna says from next to me, her voice filled with emotions.
When we’re led into a sterile looking room, my gaze is immediately drawn to the figure lying on a hospital bed. I can hear Luna gasp next to me, but it doesn’t penetrate. All I can pay attention to is Alex. My vivacious, loud, funny woman is eerily quiet with tubes sticking out of her. I’ve never seen her so still before.
I sink into the chair placed next to the bed. Her wrists are bandaged and I know it’s because of the handcuffs cutting into her skin. That’s when it finally, truly hits me; she’s actually alive. She’s going to be fine. Relief floods my system, and I have to fight the tears threatening to fall.