The Wrong Kind of Love

"Shit," the driver yells.

He attempts to maintain control, pumping on the breaks, but it's too late. The seat belt cuts into my shoulder as I'm thrown against the side of the van. The tail spins out violently, flying off of the shoulder and tipping on two wheels. The van lands on its side, glass shatters around me. Metal bends as the van barrels through the safety rail on the side of the highway. Grass and earth fly in through the broken windows as it slides sideways down the embankment. My pulse accelerates, and adrenaline courses through me as I look through the window above me, watching the blue sky and tree limbs fly past the windows. There's a loud bang. Metal screams as it bends. The remaining glass breaks. And pressure builds in my ears. I'm slightly stunned from the force of the impact and sit dazed for a moment. I quickly realize this is my one chance to get the fuck out of here. I go to reach for the seat belt release, but my hands are cuffed. I strain my arms, stretching my fingers to press down on the button. When it clicks, my heart rate accelerates. I scramble to sit up.

The inmate who was next to me is still strapped in, hanging limply from the seat belt and groaning. I glance to the front and find the officer groggily moving his head. Shit, I have to hurry up. I manage to crawl out of the busted back window. Out of instinct, I start to run, but the chains around my ankles catch, and cut into my skin, causing me to trip. I can barely move my legs. My heart slams around in my chest, my adrenaline burning through my veins like the devil. I'm afraid the officer is going to come to soon enough, and then I am screwed. Sweat beads on my brow as I take quick, short steps toward the tree line, away from the mangled wreckage.

Suddenly, I hear shouting. I don't stop. I just keep moving. The longer I run, the more accustomed I get to the chains, and the faster I'm able to go.

"Wait!" I hear a man shout and look back to see one of the inmates running after me. There's a loud boom, and I can't help but glance back. A blaze engulfs the van. Bright red flames spark up into the tree limbs, catching the leaves on fire. It's when I look back that I see the officer stumbling away from the inferno, arms raised in front of him, pointing his gun in our direction.

I think of Tor, of the baby. Air rushes through my lungs as my feet pound against the ground. I hear the pop of rounds firing.

"Shit," the other prisoner shouts, pushing himself to run even faster.

"Stop!" the officer yells.

There's a loud bang, and I feel the bullet tear through my shoulder, ripping the flesh clean off me. The sudden pain sends me to the ground a few feet in front of the tree line. I watch the other inmate run past me, fleeing into the woods, and I attempt to stand. Another shot rings out, and I fall face first into the earth.

They say that when you die your entire life flashes before your eyes, but all I see is her. She was a weakness on every level to me from the moment she set foot in my office, and she has remained my weakness. I was always a man who took pride in his control, but in the end, what I took pride in was her. I did this for love. I did this for Tor. I did this for my unborn child. All I wanted to do was right all the wrong that had been done to my girl, and, if nothing else, I will die knowing at least I tried.

Another explosion echoes through the air, and then... silence.

Tor

I sit on the porch until the sun dips below the turquoise waters, thinking about what it would have been like had Jude and I made it here months ago. The baby kicks, and I rub a hand over my stomach, attempting to soothe her. As the sunlight fades, stars appear in the darkening sky. This place is beautiful, and yet, it feels infinitely empty because he’s not here. It seems impossible that one man could become my entire world in the matter of a few months, and even more impossible to imagine a life without him. A contraction tightens my stomach. I sit up, trying to breathe through it as a shred of panic works its way through me. The pain ebbs and flows, then stops, only to start again.

Shit. I push up from the patio chair and head inside, trying to calm my nerves. No, I don’t have a doctor here, and that was something I thought through before I left. It’s not that I’m afraid to deliver the baby on my own. I’m not. It’s the fear of the baby possibly needing a doctor that worries me, but there are hospitals on the island.