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“Yes, boss.”
I was so caught up listening to Killian’s conversation that I didn’t realize the shooting had stopped.
“Was that Elias?” I asked as he slid the phone into his pocket.
“Yes. He needs me so stay here and do not open the doors.”
“Is he okay?”
Killian ignored me and locked the doors as he ran to my husband.
My heels resumed tapping on the floor of the car as I watched the doors of the restaurant, waiting for Elias to walk through them to me.
Within a few minutes, Killian returned but he wasn’t alone as he and a few men carried a man in their arms, who was unconscious and bound, and threw him in the back of another SUV.
I rushed to the door, my face against the glass as I stared, waiting for Elias’ familiar body to emerge.
A dark figure left the shadows and instantly, I recognized my husband. I unlocked the door and rushed to Elias, throwing my hands around his neck while trying to blink away the tears that wanted to form.
He grunted causing me to pull away to check his body when the red-stained handkerchief caught my attention.
He got shot. Elias was shot.
“We have to get you to the hospital,” I mumbled repeatedly, my dainty hands trying to drag my husband’s overgrown body.
It must’ve been shock that kept me from breaking down then and there because I wanted to cry, scream, anything just to express how painful it was to see Elias hurt.
I always thought he was so untouchable but the second that proved not true, I felt my fantasy being destroyed along with my expectations for our life.
My eyes burned with tears as I walked us to the car; my knees seconds from giving out.
When we made it to the car, I tried to reach for the handle, but my vision was blurry with tears, my emotions not allowing me the pleasure of staying dormant.
Elias lifted me, despite the outcry from his shoulder, and placed me in the SUV, following me afterward while Killian sat at the front.
I wiped my tears, enough to see his face but my eyes couldn’t help but to dart to his shoulder which had started bleeding more profusely now as he laid with his head against the seat, his eyes closed tightly and sweat providing a sheen to his forehead.
“Call John and tell him to meet me at the house.”
“What? No. We need to go to the hospital… w-w-we need to go to the hospital Elias,” I said, the words stumbling out of my mouth.
Using his right hand, Elias outlined my face, “John is our doctor. It's better this way, sweetheart…Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
He leaned back against the seat again and pulled me with him this time, not caring that my head landed right on his hurt shoulder.
***
When we pulled into the driveway, it didn’t take long for Silas to pull the door.
“John is here,” he said to Elias who got out and held my hand to lead me into the house.
I knew I looked a mess: my makeup was ruined, my hair a tangled mess with strands of blood, and my dress barely holding on for dear life, however, the only thing on my mind was the man in front of me.
He made it seem like being shot was such a normal occurrence, yet my mind was going haywire at the thought that there was a hole- a fucking hole- in his body. A hole that could've just as easily been in his head or his heart.
My husband could’ve died tonight.
And as that awful thought crossed my mind, I squeezed his hand and rushed to match his step; wishing I had begged him to stay home.
