“The gun,” I answered quickly. The faster I knew the truth, the quicker the panic would be gone.
She nodded.
My stomach felt empty, but not in the way that told me I was hungry. It felt empty because there was something eating away at it. “Did he…?” That couldn’t be possible. “Did he…?” I cleared my throat as I tried pulling my shoulders back to appear strong. “Did Dad shoot me?”
“Yes.” Her head dropped. “Well, he was aiming for me, I was told, and you got in the way.”
I shut my eyes before willing myself to ask the next question. My voice broke as I rushed the words out. “Did he kill himself?” I pushed away the visual, unable to truly come to terms with it.
“Yes.”
Silence encased the room. Heather had slipped out at some point, leaving me alone with my mom. I wanted her back in here as a buffer. As a sort of comfort.
“Say something,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”
I shook my head, annoyed that my eyes were watering and irritated that I didn’t know what exactly I was crying about. My father shooting me? Or himself? “I…I don’t know how I feel.”
She nodded as I blinked away the blurriness. “Me either.”
I squeezed her hand back, unable to say anything because I was at a loss for words. There was too much to sort through and too much to take in. I was good at shoving things away, and I would likely be shoving this away, along with the visual of my father’s face after he’d shot me, for quite a while.
“Mom,” Eric’s voice sounded from behind the door, and I tried sitting up again. “Please let me go in.”
“Eric. She’s talking with her mom; give her a second.”
My mom caught my eye, and she gave me a sad smile. “That is one determined boy.”
The door opened, and my mom backed away, giving my hand another squeeze. “We can talk later.”
“Maddie.” It was like he was reaching out and putting my heart back into my chest with one little nudge.
Eric ran in, bypassing my mom. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that was wrinkly. He was distraught, his dark eyes shadowed by whatever was going through his mind, which changed instantly when he got closer to me.
My lip was wobbly, and everything suddenly hurt. The second I locked onto him, I really let myself feel it all. Everything came rushing back to me, especially the look of agony on his face when he kept me from bleeding out in his mother’s car. I remembered it all.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he shushed, bending down and grabbing my face. His hands swiped my tears. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”
I closed my eyes, holding back a cry.
“I’m here,” he hushed, bending down and kissing the top of my head. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” I barely managed to say.
He cupped my face and brought his forehead down to mine. “You’ve always had me, baby. Even when I pretended you didn’t.”
I hiccupped, and it burned my chest, but I stayed still, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Eric?”
“What?” he asked, still gazing down at me. I glanced away for a second before he brought my face back to his. “What is it? Do you need more pain medicine? Do you want me to get my mom?”
I winced, resting my head back on the pillow. “No.” I let out a very shaky breath. “Do you know what I thought of right after…” I inhaled, ignoring the pain. “Right after I was…raped?”
His brow furrowed as he stayed silent, his hand still wrapped around my chin.
I answered quickly. “You.”
“Me?”
I nodded again. “All I could think was how badly I wanted you to break down my front door and come to my room and save me from…” I looked away, unable to look him in the eye. “Everything. My dad. The man who snuck into my room. Myself. All I wanted was you.” I began to ramble nervously. “Which is so stupid because we hadn’t talked in years, not really, and it sounds so obsessive and pathetic.”