Page 98 of My Never
“Ma’am, help will be there within a minute or two, according to my GPS coordinates on the ambulance,” I hear the responder say. I completely forgot that she was there. I strain my ears to listen for the sirens and can hear them.
“Almost here, baby. They’re almost here,” I murmur in his ear. “Don’t you die on me.”
“Ava, you’re bleeding,” Colin deadpans.
“I know. I’ll be okay. It’s nothing compared–”
A gasp sounds from the doorway, and I look up to see Sydney. She’s got her mouth covered with both hands, tears streaming down her face.
“I heard the sirens and said fuck it. Colin, you can be mad later,” Sydney says as she runs to the kitchen for towels. She comes back and places one on Mark’s wound, and Colin fixes it hard against the wound. His hands are covered in Mark’s blood.
“Ava’s leg too, Sydney,” he says quietly, his voice sounding like he’s here with us while his mind is somewhere else.
Paramedics rush into the room with the cops tailing right behind. They push Colin out of the way, but I’m not letting him go.
“The guy who did this is on the floor of the back left bedroom. He’s gone,” Colin tells the officers.
“I did it. He stabbed me in the leg and was going to rape me before killing me. He said as much. I didn’t look before swinging the bat. I just grabbed it and swung as hard as I could to get free,” I tell the officer.
“You’re safe now,” the officer assures, looking down at me sympathetically. I bend to kiss Mark’s temple again.
“Miss, we need to get him to the hospital. You’ve got to let him go and let us take him,” a kind man says calmly as he squats next to me, touching my shoulder.
“I’m coming with you. I’m his fiancé.”
Sydney gasps with surprise and rests a hand on my other shoulder. A heart-wrenching sob tears from my throat.
“He just proposed less than an hour ago.”
Sydney wraps her arms around me and pulls my hands away from Mark, allowing them to take him and helping me to slowly stand. She squeezes me tightly for all it’s worth, wrapping me up in her arms as if it can soothe the pain thudding through every fiber of my being. I barely feel the stab wound. It’s my heart. It’s my soul. They feel like they’re tearing in half and bleeding out, along with the blood of the man I love, right in front of me.
“She’s got a stab wound as well,” Colin declares to the paramedics as they quickly place Mark on the gurney.
“Got it. Thanks Colin,” a different young man who I’ve seen around town says.
“Ava, we’re right behind you in the truck,” Colin assures me.
“We have some questions,” a young cop with zero bedside manners opens his mouth to say as Sydney and a paramedic are helping me out the door.
“Ask them at the hospital. They need medical attention, and if you didn’t notice, one of them was still fighting to stay alive,” I hear Colin basically growl at the officer as he pushes his way through the screen door behind us.
I barely even register the drive to the hospital. I hold Mark’s hand even though I can’t see anything through the blur of tears streaming down my face. Whispers of ‘I love you’ and ‘please don’t leave’ fall from my lips, and I don’t give a damn how desperate I sound. I am desperate. Desperate for a miraclebecause I saw how much blood was on my floor. I say so many prayers as he’s torn from me and rushed into surgery. A paramedic helps me out of the back of the ambulance into a wheelchair. Colin pulls up seconds later, and Sydney hops out to come in with me while he parks and calls the others.
Hours pass, all of it a blur between the stress and the medication I was given. I barely remember being evaluated, talking to the cops, or getting stitches. All I know is the knife didn’t hit anything detrimental, and my leg will heal. I may have to do some physical therapy, but I don’t remember what all was said. Sydney was listening.
We all wait in a tiny family waiting room. Garrett finally talked Colin into changing his clothes and cleaning up the rest of the blood that had splattered his hands, arms, and face. All I had been able to do was stare at it as Colin sank into a chair next to me. We’d both just looked at his hands, then our hands next to each other, taking in the gruesome scene and probably thinking about how it might well be the last tangible thing we’d ever touch of Mark’s life. We’d been here before, together and in shambles after losing Jenna, and damnit, here we were again.
I think the others figured I’d really lose it if I continued to see it all. Sydney had taken me to a different restroom to help clean me up along with the change of clothes Jane brought for me. They cried along with me as we watched the red of his blood mingle with the water and swirl down the drain. Gone. Like it never happened.
I don’t know how long I watched Trystan pace back and forth in front of the window, only stopping to check on Brynleigh. He looked as if he longed to hold her, but she didn’t want to be touched. Mark’s parents sat in the corner looking as grief-stricken as the rest of us. Brynleigh finally allowed Colin to hold her once he was cleaned up. The sadness washing across Trystan’s face was enough to make my heart ache, so I called forhim to come over and sit with me. He just wants to be there so badly for us. He’s such a good man. He will make some girl very happy one of these days.
Trystan wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in to rest against him. I feel some of the tension seep out of him after a moment of contact. He needed to hold someone just as badly as I needed someone to hold me, he just didn’t want to admit it out loud.
Three or so hours later, a surgeon comes out to meet us. I’m not able to stand. Everything feels like jello as the surgeon walks up to me. I feel sick to my stomach, holding back bile as he lowers himself slowly into a crouch beside me. He looks kind. I don’t think I’ll ever forget his eyes. I suck in a deep breath, steadying myself, because this could be the moment my life shatters.
“Ava? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” The doctor’s voice asks, but it sounds far away. “Hun, you need to take a breath. You’re going to pass out.” I feel someone shake my arm gently, snapping me out of my trance, and I gasp.Shit.I have got to stop holding my breath like that. Every sound in the room is drowned out by the loud whoosh of my blood pumping in my ears. Trystan looks at me with worry, rubbing small circles on my back to silently tell me he’s here, that they all are here for me. I look back to the doctor and blink a few times, nodding that I’m listening.
“He lost a lot of blood,” the doctor starts, and I reach out into the empty air, grasping for something to hold onto. Trystan’s hand finds mine and squeezes back in support, not minding one bit if the strength behind my grasp breaks every bone in his hand. I know it won’t, but it feels like it. “We were able to repair the damage to his intestines and surrounding tissues. If it had been his other side, we’d likely be having a different discussion. He’ll have a bit of a recovery, but Mark’s going to be okay. He’s a fighter.”
