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Julianna took the bullet that was meant for me.
The realization of that crushed my soul and my heart bled.
Raw sounds of anguish tore through me as I gathered Julianna in my arms and pulled her close to my chest. Her breathing was too shallow, almost like she was taking her last breath. “Julianna? Open your eyes, Princess.”
My hands shook, cold blood flowing through my veins. I wouldn’t survive this. I lost her once, I couldn’t lose her again. Not when we just found each other after so much suffering.
Julianna wanted to re-write our story. She wanted a happy ending, and just this morning, I was thinking of how to make her dreams come true. How to give her our own version of happily ever after.
I didn’t want to live if she died. I couldn’t bear the loss of her again.
I can’t…
“Why?” My voice quivered. “Why, Julianna? Please, wake up. Open your eyes, show me those gorgeous grey eyes of yours, Princess.”
Somewhere in the house, there were more gunshots and I brought Julianna closer to me, her blood soaking through my own shirt. My mind wasn’t processing the situation the way it should be.
I heard voices. Familiar voices.
My vision was blurred and I couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than my wife in my arms, her body cold and limp. I wanted to prolong this moment with Julianna, if it was to be our final one.
Someone called out loudly and more voices joined in. I didn’t realize they were speaking to me until someone nudged my shoulders, shaking me.
My eyes darted to Samuel, not really seeing him. He watched me grimly. My chest filled with a stark desolation that made it hard for me to breathe.
Samuel reached for Julianna and that was when I went absolutely ballistic. I lost my mind, fighting him while I clutched my wife to my chest.
I wasn’t going to let him take her away from me. I couldn’t.
“We have to get her to the hospital, ASAP,” he said, almost frantic.
My brain stuttered. “W-what?”
He made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. “She’s bleeding a lot, but her chance of survival depends on how fast we can get her help.”
My mind was slow at trying to make sense of his words. It felt like there was a hand digging into my chest, a heavy fist closing around my heart. Squeezing.
Samuel was talking about bringing her to the hospital. He said survival, which meant…
They weren’t taking her away from me because she was dead. He was trying to help her. Help me.
Samuel took Julianna from me, gathering her in his arms, and he stood up. He was already stalking away before I could fully process his words. My heart hammered in my chest like a wild thing. Julianna was alive and fighting for her life.
I clung, almost desperately, to the sliver of hope that seemed to burrow itself into the marrow of my being. I got to my feet, staggering after Samuel.
I barely focused on the bodies lying around the house or the others outside in the front yard. Swallowing the acidic bile in my mouth, I got in the car and Samuel relinquished his hold on Julianna. He placed her on my lap and my wife was my sole focus.
I watched her chest, slowly moving up and down, as she breathed faintly. Her face was too pale, her scars looking more pronounced against her clammy skin. The drive to the nearest hospital lasted an eternity. But I made sure to put pressure on her wound, trying to stop it from bleeding.
Once we reached the hospital, I carried her inside. Everything happened quickly then.
The nurses loaded her onto a stretcher and I watched, helplessly, as they took my wife away from me. I felt almost disconnected from reality. Maybe it was from the shock… I didn’t know. I just couldn’t seem to think straight.
But I knew one thing for sure.
I didn’t want a life where there was no Julianna.
Julianna
I jerked awake, almost like I had been dragged from a nightmare. But I couldn’t… remember what my nightmare was about. My brain was fuzzy and eerily quiet.
My eyes darted around the strange room and I realized that I was in a hospital.
Why…?
When my gaze finally landed on Killian’s grief-stricken face, the memories came flooding back to me.
The kidnapping.
The truth about my father…
And Simon’s gun pointed at Killian.
My chest burned fiercely and I winced. “Killian…?” I whimpered. My tongue felt swollen and sore in my throat. It actually hurt.
His eyes were bloodshot, agony written all over his weary face. His hand gripped mine tighter and his chest rattled with a sharp inhale – as if he could finally breathe.
He blinked once then twice, before swallowing hard. “You scared me, Princess,” he said, his raspy voice cracking. “You scared the life out of me. Don’t do that… ever again. Please.”
