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Declan
“Seriously, man. Can’t this goddamn car move any faster?” We’re two fucking streets away from the house when we pull up to an orange barrier that’s been set up, and the off-duty cop who’s driving huffs out his annoyance.
“I’m gonna run the rest of the way,” I tell my dad and the other guys before I get out and slam the door behind me.
When I round the corner, there are black-and-white police cars everywhere. Red and blue lights whirl in the dusky sky. Two red ambulances are parked in our driveway, and the police are swarming our yard. The neighbors are all standing out on their porches, staring in disbelief.
It looks like a scene out of a horror movie.
I don’t even know which way to move or who to ask for help. I take a step toward the house, and I see men exiting the front door. They’re wheeling out a gurney with a body bag on it, and I nearly drop to my knees.
“Annabelle!” Her name is ripped from my lungs.
That can’t be her.
It can’t.
I’d know.
I’d feel something.
Tommy peaks his head around an open police car door and screams, “Declan!” His headphones are hanging around his neck, his iPad is in one hand, and Rex is firmly clutched to his chest. His puffy black jacket and Philadelphia Kings hat are on and in one piece.
He doesn’t look hurt, not physically at least.
I sprint across the yard and pull him away from the car before wrapping him in my arms and lifting him off his feet. “Tommy. Are you okay? Where’s Annabelle?”
He squirms to be put down, but I need this more than him right now.
A young police officer approaches us. “Mr. Sinclair?”
“Where’s my wife? Where’s Annabelle?” I hold Tommy tighter while I wait for the answer.
The cop points to one of the two ambulances. “Mrs. Sinclair is over there.”
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I cross the lawn to the ambulance with Tommy still in my arms and say a silent prayer that she’s okay.
As I walk up the driveway, one of the ambulances starts backing out, and I yell for them to stop. They don’t listen and continue backing out and taking off, but a tall guy with dark hair in a leather jacket walks away from the moving vehicle and over to me as I stop. He looks familiar, but my brain is moving in slow-motion, trying to process everything.
“She’s in this one, man.” He points to the other ambulance and then follows me to the back where the doors are open. My wife is crying as they wrap her arm in a sling and secure it close to her body.
“Declan,” she sobs when she sees me. “Oh my God, Declan.” Tears stream down her beautiful face.
I climb in next to her on the opposite side of the EMT. I wipe the hair away from her face, scared to touch her anywhere. “Belle, what happened?”
She leans her head against me and closes her frightened emerald-green eyes.
“Are you okay?” I need to hear it from her. “Where are you hurt, Belle?”
Once the EMT gets her arm positioned the way he wants it, he steps back and looks between us. “We’re going to head to the hospital now, Annabelle. I’ll give you a minute, but we’ve gotta go.”
“I’m coming with you,” I tell them both.
Belle grabs me with her good hand. “No.” She shakes her head. “You stay with Tommy. Don’t let him out of your sight. Follow me there, but stay with him, Declan.”
“Baby.” I kiss her head. “My dad’s here somewhere. I’ll find him. He can take Tommy to the hospital. I don’t want to leave you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He stays with you,” she insists. “Please.”
