The hand releases mine. My fingers won’t move. I don’t have the strength to hold on.
It all comes back. Pictures of her. Calling with no answer. The flight to Seattle. Driving. Finally, finding her. The kiss. His taunting face.The shot. Her scream. Another shot.
Silence.
Her arms, holding me together, while she fell apart. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
I still can’t open my eyes, but know he's standing next to me–his crooked grin and dancing eyes. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ve got you.”
He fades away.
We’re alone now. I have no perception of time. It could have been minutes, or weeks, or years. Her footsteps pace the room. The machine noise and her hand have become the only constants in an existence filled with confusion and pain—for both of us.It might be better if I let go.
“Whatever happens,” her voice is close, whispers of breath on my face, “I’m here as long as you want me.”
Me too.
I want to lift my head, meet her lips, tell her I'll never leave her again. I can’t make my body move. She stands and paces again. I breathe, a little blip on the machine.
She comes back, “Jacob?”
There’s something in my mouth that keeps me from talking. I try to move my lips, to say her name. Another breath, another blip. She leans closer, grips my hand. One finger moves, then another. I squeeze with everything I have left, knowing it’s not enough.
She leans over, her lips on my forehead. “I love you. Forever.”
This time when the darkness overtakes me, it’s warm and welcoming, because I know what waits on the other side.
eighty-four
Jess: Protection
August 2008
“There’s still the question of who killed Lieutenant Stephens. The shots were too close together to determine who shot whom and when.” The lawyers in front of me are arguing. Behind me, Michael’s family stares daggers into the back of my head. I don’t have the courage to turn around and face them.
I’m not testifying this time. My lawyer didn’t think it was a good idea, and I agreed with him.
“I’m just saying, it's unlikely that Staff Sergeant Ricks, wounded as he was, could have made the fatal shot.”
I swallow a sob that threatens to break me.I've gone through that night a thousand times, wondering what I could have changed—not gone home, left the gun in the safe, called the police as soon as Michael walked in. None of that compares to the choice I made when I sawMichael's hesitation, when his grip loosened on the gun, and I twisted it around and pulled the trigger.
“Staff Sergeant Ricks was an experienced combat soldier; in an intense situation like that, his training would have kicked in.”
“Fingerprints from all three were on the one weapon in the room, and since Ms. Roberts is the one person who wasn't injured and because she's pleading the fifth, I think it's just as likely…”
It's better this way.
I didn’t understand why Jacob had taken the gun from me when I knelt beside him, but I know now. He was dying, bleeding to death on my bedroom floor, but he was still protecting me.
“You cannot use Ms. Roberts' refusal to make a statement as evidence against her," the judge reminds them. She’s a tall woman, an ex-soldier, with a serious face and a reputation for doing everything by the book. “Ms. Roberts obviously felt threatened. Lieutenant Stephens shot Sergeant Ricks with the intent to kill. Everything else is irrelevant. It’s a simple case of self-defense. I’m dismissing all charges.”
I'm stunned. I was prepared for the worst—to go to jail. In no realm of possibility had I considered that the judge would throw the case out.
Behind me, Sylvia is sobbing, Michael's sisters are too. I want to turn and tell them I’m sorry, but my lawyer told me not to talk to any of them, especially not to express any kind of guilt. As everyone stands, I find the courage to look behind me. Kelsey gives me a dark look before she puts her arm around her mother and walks out. I turn away.
“How is Jacob?” I look up. Karen is waiting for me.
“Getting stronger every day.” It's my canned answer, one I hope is true. It’s been a long and painful recovery. "He wanted to be here,but he doesn't remember anything from that night, and he’s still not talking very well. It all felt like too much to put him through that."
