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I knew this was the end for me right at this moment, so I wanted to taunt him back. It would mean my death, but I would get satisfaction from it before I met my maker. “No,he’sfamous. No one knows you exist. You’re a fucking failure. You’re obscure. Bush will go down as a murdering piece of shit. You’ll go down as what? A fucking nobody.”
I expected him to scream at me, to yell and lose control. He didn’t. But he wasn’t unaffected. His jaw clenched, and his hands were balled into fists at his side. I definitely struck a nerve. He turned around and ran his hand over the knives that were laid out in front of him. Grabbing a large knife, he came back to me, kneeled in front of me, and ran the knife over my arm, up to my neck, and over my cheek. I held completely still and met his eyes, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch or look away.
“I’m going to enjoy this. And it won’t be quick. You’ll get the same thing those bitches we put down got. It’s a shame I didn’t bring my camera. It could have been a party.” He placed the knife to the right side of my chest, and before I could brace myself, he plunged it into my stomach. I screamed, even though the penetration knocked the breath out of me. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but with every beat of my heart, it felt like the knife sank deeper into me. When he pulled it out, it hurt almost as much as it had when it went in.
He rubbed the bloodied blade on my face and said something I couldn’t make out. Everything sounded hollow and far away. With blurred eyes, I watched as he raised the knife once more. My head fell forward, not able to follow the movement but knowing he was going to plunge the blade into me again. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of screaming this time.
I heard what sounded like three pops and felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and then a heavy weight upon me. The chair toppled over, and my head lolled to the side, feeling an oppressive heaviness on top of my chest, my stomach, and throughout my limbs. The sharp pain in my shoulder made it hard to inhale, effectively cutting off my air supply. I couldn’t move my arms and legs, but I also didn’t struggle against it anymore. The tide of darkness was coming in, and I was powerless to stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted to rest. I wanted the pain to go away.
The load disappeared, and I could have sworn I saw an angel. His head had a halo behind it, his eyes were kind, and his lips were moving. Probably singing to me. That’s what angels did, right? Sang to you as they ushered you into heaven? He was as beautiful as an angel, so he must be. I tried to raise my hand to touch him, to feel his cheek under my hand so I could thank him for being my guide to the other side. But I couldn’t move my hands. They felt too heavy. I only wished I could say goodbye to Tristan first. I would have loved for his face to be the last one I saw.
Chapter20
Tristan
Lucas had been in a coma for two weeks. The day after I found him, Momma, Pop, and Cass came back. He had to be flown to Atlanta after the small hospital down the mountains stabilized him, and he hadn’t come out of the coma he’d slipped into during the surgery. Doctors said he had normal brain activity, so there was no risk of brain damage, but there might be parts of his body that needed to heal, and his body was taking its time repairing itself.
I had been sitting at his bedside every day for two weeks, not leaving once. It had been hard seeing him lying on the bed so still, almost lifeless. But he was still in there. I knew it. He said he would come back to me, and I believed him. The events that led us here were on a constant loop in my mind, making it hard to sleep. Making it hard to do anything but be there for Lucas, touching him in any way I could to keep the nightmares away for both of us. As I laid my head on his bed, I thought about what brought us here.
At the cabin, after I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I heard the guy standing before him say, “Now, don’t pass out. You’ll miss the best part.” Lucas’ head had fallen forward on his neck, and I thought he was dead. The guy in front of him lifted the knife, and I raised my gun and fired three shots. Unfortunately, his momentum caused him to bring the knife down into Lucas’ shoulder. I think his intended target was his chest, and the wound was more shallow than it would have been if he’d stabbed at full strength.
After he’d fallen over onto Lucas, I rushed over and threw him off, using a strength I didn’t know I had, tossing the dead weight. And hewasdead. The attacker’s eyes were open and unseeing, sending a shiver down my spine. I pushed it out of my mind until I had time to dwell on it. My attention was focused on Lucas.
I grabbed a knife from the kit on the counter, stomach clenching as I saw it. Tears ran down my face as I cut the zip ties loose with shaky hands. His legs fell to the side as they came loose, and I dragged him over onto my lap. I kept repeating, “Stay with me, baby, look at me,” hoping he’d hear me. Praying I wasn’t too late.
The cop I called to be sent out showed up about a minute later, looked at the scene, and immediately told me, “Grab him under his arms. I’ll take his legs. We’ll be faster than an ambulance.” He grabbed a dish towel and told me to press it against the wound on Lucas’ stomach when we got him settled, and I felt stupid for not thinking of doing that as soon as I cut him loose. He told me not to touch the knife in his shoulder as there was a large blood vessel that ran along it that could have been nicked. Lucas grunted and groaned from the jostling, then went still before we made it outside, hopefully passing out to escape the pain I could only imagine he was in.
We loaded him into the back seat, and the cop drove like a bat out of hell, getting down the mountain and to the hospital in record time. The whole ride, I applied pressure to Lucas’ abdomen and checked his pulse to make sure we didn’t lose him. To make sureIdidn’t lose him. I could feel it under my fingers, but it got harder to detect the longer we drove.
Doctors, nurses, and a gurney waited for us when we pulled up, so I guessed the cop had called ahead. I was unceremoniously shoved out of the way so they could get to Lucas, but I didn’t blame anyone. I just wanted them to help him. To make him better. To bring him back to us. To bring him back tome.
I tried to follow the doctors and nurses to the back, but someone grabbed my arm. I whirled around with a growl, anger in my eyes because someone was trying to stop me from being with Lucas when I saw that it was the cop. He held his hands up in a sign of surrender and spoke to me calmly. I saw his lips move, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. He stepped into my space, put his hands on my shoulders, and squeezed them a few times, trying to get my attention. I shook my head. Once, twice, three times before I realized he was saying words.
“Hey, man. Breathe with me. Come on. Breathe. Take a deep breath. Come on, you can do it. It’s okay. They’ve got him. Breathe with me.” He inhaled deeply, and I inhaled with him over and over again until I could focus.
Then I started to shake violently. I’d killed a man. Yes, I did it to protect the man I loved, but I killed him. It was my hand on my gun that pulled the trigger, ending his life. At the realization, I started to hyperventilate. I couldn’t get enough air in, my vision started to go dark around the edges, and the sounds coming out of my mouth bordered on hysteria.
The cop led me to a bank of chairs and sat me down, pushing my head between my legs. He rubbed my back, then shoved a paper bag into my line of vision. I don’t know where he got it from, and I didn’t ask. I took it and breathed into it, gradually getting my breathing under control.
When I could breathe normally, I sat back in the chair and was suddenly very tired. “What’s going to happen now?” I asked.
“Well…” he said, taking off his hat and scratching his brown hair, then shoving his hair back into place before putting the hat back on, “… we’re going to make sure your…” He gave me a look that said I should fill in the blank.
“Boyfriend,” I supplied quickly. He wasn’t, but I didn’t want to say friend. Lucas was more than my friend.
“Your boyfriend is okay, then we’ll ask him some questions. But for now…” he took a notepad from his breast pocket, “… can you tell me what happened? I know it’s soon, but I want to get the details down while they’re still fresh in your mind. I apologize about this. I really do. But it’ll help our investigation for him.”
I told him everything. From Lucas being FBI to him working that case with the Darkstream Killer. How he was on leave for thirty days and got word that some of the members on his team had been targeted by an accomplice. How he sent us away, but I came back, knowing he needed someone with him. How I saw the car at the end of the driveway and called the police, afraid something sinister was happening. Coming up to the cabin and finding out somethingwashappening. I told him I brought my gun along, which was legally owned and registered. How I saw the man stand after he stabbed Lucas in the stomach and was about to stab him again when I shot him in the back, center mass, three times. How I cut Lucas from the chair, and that’s where he found us. He scribbled everything down and nodded his head.
“Good. This is good. You did the right thing. You put that fucker down. That’s all we could have asked for a fellow law enforcement officer. Is there anything you need? Can I call someone for you? Get you anything?”
My bottom lip trembled. “Just him,” I said and broke down. The cop pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back. I know it was pitiful, and I snot-cried all over his uniform, but he didn’t seem to mind. After I cried myself out, he led me to the waiting area for surgery patients. It wasn’t that far from the front desk, as small as the hospital was. When he left, I thought that was the end of it, but he came back with a set of scrubs.
“I got these for you, so you can get out of those clothes. We’ll need them for evidence. When everything is investigated and the case is closed, we’ll return them.”
“No,” I said glumly. “Toss them. I don’t want any reminders of tonight.” I went to the restroom to change and clean up a bit, then handed him my clothes, which he put in a paper bag. He asked if I needed company, and I told him no. He left shortly after, telling me he was going back to the crime scene to start collecting evidence for the investigation. He patted my shoulder and squeezed, then left me alone.
I called Cass and told her they needed to get a flight back home immediately and recounted the events of the night. Cass was calm and in control of her emotions, being strong for Momma and Pop, who I could hear wailing in the back. I knew she wanted to break down, but she kept it together, just like I knew she would. I was extremely proud of her.
