I WAKE BIT BY BIT, registering a steady beep and a hum. I pry my heavy lids open, squinting as a bright light pierces my eyes like razors, and wince.
“She’s awake.”
A muffled voice that sounds suspiciously like my mother’s reaches me.
“Mom?”
“Shh, just relax. You’ve been through a lot.”
I gasp as my memory reboots. “Rolly. Ollie.” I try to sit up and cry out as pain explodes in my body.
“Easy, sugarplum, your body’s been through a traumatic event.”
“Are they okay?”
The pregnant pause fills my belly with dread.
I blink, trying to orient myself. “Mom,” I say sternly.
“Rolly ... died on the way to the hospital.” My father’s voice is so soft I almost don’t hear him.
“No. No. No,” I scream.
“You have to calm down, baby.” My mom’s eyes fill with tears.
“I want Ollie. I need to see him.”
A nurse runs in. “You have to calm down, Ms. Fleming.”
“Where is he?” I yell as my emotions swirl together. “Did they come back to finish the job? How’s he handling all of this? I should be with him.” My voice crackles like cellophane as I continue to sob.
“I’m going to have to sedate you if you don’t stop.”
“He’s grieving right now,” my father says, grasping my hand.
“I should be there.” A wave of lethargy begins to sweep over me. I glance over at the nurse and find she’s added something to my I.V.
“The best thing for you right now is rest,” the nurse says.
Tears roll down my face as I slump down onto my pillow.
THE FEEL OF A GENTLE hand in my hair wakes me. I blink and find Ollie beside my bed, as pale as a ghost, and haggard. Dark circles stand out under his eyes, and his beard is scraggly and unkempt. Our gazes meet. The pain filling his blue depths slice me open and let me bleed out. I lick my lips and clear my throat.
“I had to see you and make sure you were okay with my own eyes. To touch you.”
Emotions clog my throat. I don’t know how to respond.
“You almost saved him. The bullet that hit you was slowed down, but the full metal jacket was too much for his body to handle.” The tears well up in my eyes. “You’re safe. I made sure of that. There are detectives outside your room. I told them you were going to testify. It’s the only way I could make sure you were safe. Not that it matters anymore. They’ve taken everything from me.” He fists my hair.
“Not me,” I whisper.
“The only thing you get when you’re with me is hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying good-bye, sassy. I’ll always love you. It’s why I—”
“Bullshit.”