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The cat jumped from off the bed and scurried underneath, cowering and staring at me through his glowing yellow eyes. Looking at me forcomfort, buthe wouldn’t find any from me.
“W-what was that?” I whispered to Eleven, my voice shrill, but of course, the question went unanswered.
My heart rattled against its cage and reverberated through my bones. I wanted to jump up and run. I wanted to leave the room and make sure Soldier was okay.
All I could think was,Soldier, Soldier, Soldier,his nameonan endless, frenzied loop.
But he had ordered me to stay here, to keep quiet and remain hidden, while he went out to confront the angry, awful, hateful man I had once—so, so, so many years ago—desired.
Before the years of abuse, apologies, and assault.
Before the fear of what would happen to me and my son if I dared to go to the police.
But now, the man I loved more than I had ever loved myself was out there. Fighting that evil man. Lookingdownthe barrel of Seth's gun. Being braver than I'd ever been in my entire life.
All to save me after he'd already saved my son.
“What …” I gasped, searching for air as my hands shook around the gun. “W-what if he's dead?”
God, God, oh God … I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't face a world without Soldier. Not anymore. Not again. What would I do? How would I go on?
Jesus, how would I live, knowing he'd sacrificed himself for the sake of my survival?
How could anybody love me so much?
POP!
I jolted backward, wedging deeper into the corner of the room.
My eyes stared toward the door, my mind and body reaching a whole new level of fear I'd never touched before.
Soldier. Oh God, Soldier.
Then, I was on my feet, and I was running. I knew he had said not to unlock the door. I knew he had said not to leave. But, oh my God, I couldn't let him do this alone.
I couldn't let him die alone.
God, God, God, please don't let him die.
My fingers flicked the lock, and I bolted out the door, running down the hallway, gun held tight within my hands.
An animalistic sound erupted from my body at the sight of Seth in the living room, hovering over Soldier’s crumpled frame.
He looked up in time as I raised the gun, aiming it right at his cold, soulless gaze, pinned right on me.
And then, without a second thought …
I fired.
It was then that I’d witnessed the death of two men, just moments before the police and paramedics arrived.
The man I loved and the man who had taken him from me.
I clutched Soldier’s hand as he slipped away. I told him I loved him so many times, but not nearly enough, and I stared into his eyes and begged a god I wasn’t sure was listening anymore to bring him back to me, to not take him away, to just make him better and not allow him to leave.
Seth, on the other hand, had died alone, and while the paramedics were able to bring back the tiniest shred of Soldier’s life—enough to warrant hope—there hadn’t been much they could do about the bullets in Seth’s heart.
Now, Soldier was in surgery. Had been for hours, and it had been about that long since we’d received any kind of update. The looks on the doctors’ faces told me I was foolish to hope, silly to pray, and delusional to believe he might survive, but, dammit, what else could I do?
