39
MARGARET
I RAISE MY arms and shoot what seems like endless rounds at the figure moving at the end of the alley. I see him jerk but I don’t think, don’t pause to wonder if he’s dead or hurt. I run for Liam, forgetting the mission, my only concern figuring out what just happened to the man bleeding on the ground.
I hit the rough pavement beside him, and the asphalt slices into my bare knees, but I don’t care. All I’m aware of is Liam, who seems to be passed out. God, please just be passed out.
I see the bullet wound and apply pressure immediately, trying to remember the procedures and scenarios I’ve been trained on, knowing I’ve done this before, but being faced with saving a stranger is easier to think through than trying to revive the man you love.
“Gemma! He’s hit! We need an ambulance! He’s not waking up.” I scream the orders, knowing it’s unnecessary and someone will hear me, but the hysteria is overwhelming me.
“We got him, Margaret!” I hear Gemma cheer through my ear, but I don’t give a shit.
“Ambulance, now!” I growl out, holding the wound as blood pours over my fingers. I don’t want to release a hand to feel for a pulse, too afraid loosening the pressure could be the tipping point for whether or not he wakes up again.
“Fuck,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision as I look down at the man who has changed me in more ways than not. “I did it for you.” My voice is hoarse, but I look at his pale face and hold back a sob, letting the words pour out. “I did all of it for you. I wanted you to be proud of me.” A rushed breath leaves me and I suck in another, clinging to the tiny spark of hope in my chest. “I love you. Please, please don’t leave me.”
“Margaret!” Gemma comes up from behind me and kneels at my side, checking his pulse and eyeing where my hands are pressing against his wound. “Shit. He has a pulse, but it’s faint.”
I shake my head, wanting to clear the thoughts and visions that assault my brain. Please, God, don’t take him yet. I’m not ready. I can’t do this.
I hear an ambulance come up to the mouth of the alley and Gemma runs toward them, explaining the situation and rushing them to Liam. I lean over him, trying to keep the blood from escaping, and I can barely see his face through the rush of tears.
“Ma’am, let us in there, please. You did good.” A man has to remove me, and Gemma immediately takes me into her arms. I look at her and see her determined expression, wishing, not for the first time, that I was as tough as her.
As I look back at the man I love and have loved for two years, I feel like I won’t ever come anywhere close to having that kind of strength.
We got him.
Alexander—we got him. Everything Liam has been working toward for five years now has been accomplished. We have Alexander behind bars, and he gave us a list of people who have helped him and a list of places where he grows, makes, and distributes drugs in order to strike a plea deal. It won’t do him much good, but he’s willing to give up everything, so the FBI will play along until everything is done with.
I haven’t moved an inch since I came into this hospital.
The waiting room is cold and grey, the décor perfectly matching the mood of those who sit within it. It’s sad how well it fits. Gemma has been my strength since we arrived, and I’ve had to rely on her more than I care to admit. She’s the only one who’s coherent enough to actually be able to get information on Liam. I’m technically not anything to him, but she somehow is getting updates on everything he’s going through.
He’s having surgery to get the bullet out, but they’re not sure how well it will go, saying we won’t know more until afterward. That was the last update we received, and it wasn’t nearly enough to pacify me. Not even close.
I don’t cry, though; I haven’t since Gemma planted me in this chair. I stare blankly at my hands. They’re soaked in blood—Liam’s blood—and I wonder what the hell am I going to do without that man in my life.
Before when we parted ways, there was always something lingering, some other way for us to overcome being separated. That something, I’ve discovered, was hope.
I used to have hope. I should still have hope, but after everything the two of us have been through, hope is…hopeless.
“Hey.” Gemma comes over and rubs a hand on my shoulder. She’s been more affectionate than I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure it’s making her more uncomfortable than it’s making me. “We need to clean you up.”
“No.”
It’s the first word I’ve said since we got here.
“Margaret.” Her stern voice reminds me of my mother’s, one I haven’t heard in a couple weeks, and I finally look up at her. “Liam’s family is coming. They’ll be here in an hour. The last thing they need is to see his girlfriend covered in his blood. Do you understand?”
I blink at her, my brain slow to process her words.
Liam’s family…I’ve never met them. They don’t have a clue who I am or what Liam means to me. Oh God. The tears I thought were gone rise again, and I blink them away.
“Come.” Gemma doesn’t give me a choice, and she drags me to the restroom. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s like I’m a stranger in my own body. My movements are sluggish, but I force myself to get a grip and try to help Gemma help me.
She strips my dress off without asking, and I don’t question it when she shoves a set of scrubs at me. I just put them on after I’ve scoured Liam’s blood off of my skin. I watch the red liquid swirl down the drain and cry silently. This trauma is too much for me to take, too much to process and understand, and for the first time in years, I pray. I pray that God will pull Liam through this. I pray that he won’t take away the only man I’ve ever loved. I pray that he won’t make me live in this world without Liam at my side.