Page 32 of Healing Bonds
“We have two more weeks of this, and then, we can come back in the summer. I can make it happen for you.”
I frowned. “What about work?”
He shook his head, his eyes serious as they met mine. “Nothing comes before you… before us,” he told me, and I swooned, my belly swooping.
He was so perfect.
Chapter Fourteen
RYAN
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Someone, please help us! There’s so much blood! Fuck, there’s so much blood.” Trapped behind the steering wheel and the air bag, I had never felt more helpless. Hours of training couldn’t help me. I had failed her.
“Amber?” I croaked. But she didn’t respond. And there wasso much blood. Her blood.My wife’s fucking blood.
A loud siren-like sound rang through the air, filling my ears. My head felt heavy, and every sudden movement was piercing me with pain. But I had to get to her. I had to get us out.
She was going to die if I didn’t do something. My wife was going to die a mere two and a half months after we got married, and it was all going to be my fault.
“Amber, open those pretty eyes, baby. Goddammit, open those green eyes.” I hit the steering wheel that was pressing firmly into my chest and grunted in pain as it vibrated against what felt like broken ribs. Everythinghurt.
“Help! Please help!” My desperate pleas sounded foreign to my own ears. What happened to the other driver? The fuckerhad t-boned us, hitting Amber’s side after running a red light. And we’d crashed into a pole from the impact.
If she didn’t wake up, I was going to kill him with my bare fucking hands. I wasnothingwithout her. Nothing else mattered. I’d happily rot in a prison cell to avenge her death.
Reaching for her, I inhaled deeply through the pain, forcing my fingers to wrap around her wrist. I needed to touch her, needed to feel her skin, to feel for a pulse.
She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. Life wasn’t that cruel. It had only been two and a half months since the wedding—two and a half fucking months—and I had already failed to keep her safe.
My fingers brushed against her inner wrist, and sticky moisture touched my fingertips. Swallowing past the vomit, I firmly pressed two fingers against her pulse and held my breath. And then, I felt it—a weak but constant drumming. She wasalive. She hadn’t left me yet. That fucker hadn’t taken her from me.
“Amber, wake up. Please wake up. I love you, baby.” I shook her gently, and she moaned softly, the sound so quiet against the loud traffic and ringing in my ears. “That’s it, baby. Fight for me,” I begged her. “I need you to fight, baby. Stay with me.” Her body flinched against my touch, and I pulled back my hand to see it covered in thick, red blood. My stomach roiled.
Fuck.
“Ryan.” Her voice wavered, her tone weak. I reached for her hand, needing to feel her, to reassure her. Her fingers loosely wrapped around my hand, and she moaned again, louder this time. “Sore,” she groaned, confused. “Hurts.”
“I’m here,” I told her. “Stay awake, spitfire. Help is coming.” I fucking prayed help was coming. We’d been hit in the middle of an intersection. How long did it take for paramedics to arrive? Why hadn’t we gotten help yet?
“It hurts,” she mumbled, unmoving, and my heart stilled.
“Where, Ames?” I had to keep her talking, but with every passing second, my eyes were growing heavy. I knew hers had to be, too. We needed to stay awake.
“Every—” She paused and went silent.
“Spitfire?” I pushed through the fog in my mind, trying to turn my head to look at her, but the slight movement paralyzed me with pain. “Stay with me, Ames.” My voice was croaky and full of tears. Full of fear. “Just a little bit longer.”
There was no response. Panic settled deep into my bones. I couldn’t lose her, not after everything we had gone through. Till death do us part couldn’t come so fucking early, could it?
“Help me, please! My wife … please, help me!” I shouted, my throat raw from the exertion. And then, suddenly, there were voices, sirens, footsteps crunching on broken glass. Help had finally arrived.
It was on that Sunday afternoon that my life changed. A moment of laughter, screaming to the lyrics of our favorite song, had turned into something ugly, a memory I never wanted to remember.
Everything fucking fell apart.
TWO HOURS LATER