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I land on the ground in front of him, and he jumps to his feet. A guard lunges for him, but Peter dodges, looking around with a crazed expression on his face.
I stand up, quickly spotting Ellie. She looks panicked, and I want nothing more than to go to her. I should go to her.
But when I turn back around, I see another guard approach Peter. Peter raises his gun, and all rational thoughts leave my head as I jump in front of the guard.
“Nooo! Cedrick! Cedrick!”
The pain is immediate. I fall to the ground, gasping. It’s too much, and I’m struggling to keep my consciousness.
Ellie’s face appears above me. I see her mouth moving, but I hear nothing. Why can’t I hear anything?
Her tears hit my face, and I open my mouth to talk, to tell her how I feel about her, but nothing comes out. My vision starts to go blurry. I can feel my life slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
She’s mouthing something over and over again. I try to focus on her lips, trying to read them.
“I love you…”
I hear it faintly, just as my eyes close.
29
ELLIE
“Why would you do that?”
I’m replaying the events of the past day in my head, and they still don’t make sense to me.
There was a gun to my head. And not only did Cedrick trade his life for mine, he jumped in front of a bullet.
What if he’s dead?
I’ve been thinking it over and over again obsessively in the waiting room for hours, since we first arrived here and he was brought into emergency surgery.
The image still haunts my mind, him sprawled out and unconscious on the ground like that, blood dripping out.
Ishmael sits down beside me, my finger swirling around a cup of cold coffee. Nothing tastes right, and it isn’t morning sickness.
“How you holding up?” Ishmael asks, taking a sip from his own cup of coffee.
It’s not the first time I’ve been asked today and I’m sure it won’t be the last, and I still don’t have a good answer.
I look down at my belly, and realize that I’m starting to show. I realize that the father might not see his son into this world. Or daughter.
I shrug.
“It still doesn’t make any sense,” I reply. “None of it does.”
Ishmael nods sadly.
“I know.” Ishmael shakes his head and looks down at the ground. “We Vanecourt brothers do a lot of stupid things in the heat of the moment. But then, we can’t really claim Peter was thinking rationally, either.”
My face twists in disgust at the name, and I can feel the tears start again.
“My brother’s gonna be fine, just you watch.”
Somehow, I doubt it. Even though I’m not a trauma doctor, I’ve seen enough gunshot victims for a lifetime. Not many of them walk out of the hospital unchanged.
I nod in agreement, because I don’t want to admit that I’m already trying to imagine my life without Cedrick. The thought hurts more than I could ever communicate.
