Ninety-five percent survival if we get her to the hospital with her heart still beating.
That’s all I have to do. Just keep Carla’s heart beating.
The guard kneels next to me, and I quickly shove my phone back in my pocket. We work together to lift Carla into the back of the SUV without moving my hand away from the wound. I get in with her and then press as hard as I can against her back.
The guard speeds us away from campus, and he must’ve had training because he’s doing a damn good job maneuvering the car through any traffic we come across.
Carla coughs again, and it’s only then feeling returns to my body. It hits me like a tidal wave. Seeing her struggling to breathe rips my heart right from my chest.
“My mom’s waiting for you. You’re going to be fine,” I begin to reassure her.
Carla manages to grab hold of my thigh, but her grip is weak. “Noah.” Her breathing becomes shallow, and when I hear crackling sounds, I quickly lift my hand from the wound. There’s a hissing sound as the built-up air escapes, and then I cover the bullet hole again, applying pressure.
Our eyes meet, and Carla struggles to say, “Raspberry.”
“You’re both going to be fine,” I try to reassure her. “We’re almost at the hospital.”
My heart thunders in my chest as worry for both Carla and our baby grinds against my soul.
I glance out the front window to see where we are and let out a breath of relief when I notice we’re almost at the hospital.
The moment we stop in front of the emergency entrance, Mom jogs toward us, and just seeing her offers me a world of relief. She yanks the door open, and I have to move quickly to get out of the way.
I watch as they load Carla onto a stretcher, and an oxygen mask is placed over her nose and mouth. Mom glances at me, and then they’re running, wheeling Carla toward the operating room.
I follow them as far as I’m allowed to go, and then I stand, feeling numb to my core.
I don’t understand what happened.
Who was that man?
Why did Carla get shot?
Why did any of this happen?
My mind races for answers, but there’s none.
The woman I love more than life itself got shot, and I have no idea what that means for our baby.
My eyes drift closed as a helpless feeling settles darkly inside me.
Please, Mom. Please save them both.
Chapter 23
NOAH
My legs lose all strength, and I sink to my knees, my blood-covered hands lying limply on my thighs.
I keep hearing Carla’s scream. The gunshot.
I see her stumble before she drops to the ground.
The sound of her coughing.
Her blood splattering over me.
Her eyes.
God, her eyes. She was so scared.
I suck in a breath as the images and sounds play on an endless loop in my mind like a horror movie.
Why?
Why did this happen?
I feel hands on my shoulders, and then I’m pulled up. My sight manages to focus on my father’s face.
“She’s in the best hands, son,” Dad says.
I nod and murmur, “I know.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Dad turns me away from the doors Carla was pushed through and guides me to a restroom. He helps me wash the blood from my hands. Taking a paper towel, Dad wets it, and then he wipes the blood from my neck and jaw.
When he’s done cleaning me as best he can under the circumstances, he frames my face and his eyes lock with mine. “Carla and the baby will survive. Okay?”
I shake my head and whisper, “Why?” I suck in a breath of air, and then my body begins to convulse. I dart to the toilet, and dropping to my knees, I empty my stomach.
I feel Dad’s hand on my back, and then he hands me a paper towel. I wipe my mouth before I get up. The shock lifts, and in its wake lies the worst pain I’ve ever felt.
It’s sharp, merciless, unfathomable – eating away at my heart.
I press a hand to my chest as I try to breathe through it.
Dad pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms tightly around me. “I’ve got you, son. It’s okay.”
There’s no comfort in my father’s arms. This isn’t a scraped knee or a black eye.
This is… this is… excruciating.
“Dad,” I groan. “I can’t process this. I can’t comprehend what happened.” I suck in a suffocating breath as I grip him tighter. “It’s like an equation I can’t solve.”
“My boy,” he murmurs, his voice tight with pain for me. “This isn’t something you can solve. I know it fucking hurts right now, and you’re worried out of your mind, but in a couple of hours, you’ll see that they’re fine. Your mom is the best, and she’ll save them.”
I’m caught in a maze where nothing makes sense. There’s no way out. There won’t be any way out of it until I find out why, until I see Carla again and hear that our baby is fine.