“I took the subway to the market,” I say, as his comforting touch and patient, concerned gaze encourages me to continue. “I always took the subway around the city before that day. And I’m not sure what was different on that morning, but as I was returning home, I just felt lost. I felt so empty and afraid. I remember standing on the platform, waiting for the train. My foot kept inching forward, onto the yellow line . . . then over it. I felt the vibration of the oncoming train as it started rolling into the station. I remember I closed my eyes as I inched farther forward.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I can’t hold Gabe’s bleak stare as I let the rest of the words spill out. I glance down, ashamed. Terrified of what he’ll think of me. “I remember feeling nothing but air beneath my right foot. Then the sudden gust of hot, exhaust-tinged wind. Less than an instant later, I was violently yanked back. I stumbled on my heels and landed on my ass on the concrete platform. I don’t know who saved me. The crush of people crowding on and off the train was like a stampede. All I saw were legs and moving bodies. I left my groceries scattered everywhere on the ground and I ran back up to the street. I ran for blocks and blocks before I finally collected myself enough to hail a taxi home.”
“And you’ve never stepped foot in the subway again.”
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “I can’t. I’m afraid it could happen again.”
“Not if you don’t let it.” He caresses my cheek, then leans forward and kisses me softly on the lips. “And itwon’t ever happen again while I have anything to say about it. Scout’s honor.”
I smile in spite of the cold weight that’s settled inside me. But that weight is lessening. It’s lifting, the longer I stare into Gabe’s eyes.
I want to believe him. I want to trust that what I’m feeling is real.
He kisses me again, his strong hands cupping my face. When he releases me and settles back, he sighs heavily. For several long moments, he doesn’t speak. I’m not even sure he’s breathing. But then his hand covers mine, his thumb idly brushing my fingers.
“The day of my injury, my platoon was coming in from a routine sweep for IEDs. We’d spent eight hours combing a stretch of godforsaken, hot desert dirt road. It had been a good day, as far as good days went in Kandahar. We were heading back to base on a road we’d been on a hundred times before when the explosion hit. Our vehicle went airborne. It slammed down on its side, smoke and flying shrapnel everywhere. Fire burning inside and out. My ears were ringing from the detonation, but I could still hear my friend Norris choking on his own blood beside me. His chest was gone, nothing but an ugly hole. The other guys were already dead. Somehow, I crawled out of the vehicle. I tried to get up and walk, but—” He chuckles grimly. “It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing when I looked down at what was left of my leg. I was still crawling through the blood and twisted metal and body parts when another unit rolled up and pulled me out of there.”
“Gabriel.” All I can manage is a whisper. I don’t want to break down in front of him, but the pain I feelfor him is staggering. When I know any words I have to say will prove inadequate, even harmful, I reach out and wrap him in my arms.
“I wanted to die too,” he says, his breath warm in my hair. “I know what it’s like to survive and wake up some days wishing you hadn’t. But you get through. Whatever it takes, you get through.”
I don’t know if he’s giving me a command, or if he needs the reassurance as well. Either way, I hug him closer. His arms cocoon me against his strong body, and I think I could stay here like this forever.
But all we get are a few moments.
His phone rings, and I reluctantly let him go as he reaches down to retrieve it from atop his folded pants on the edge of the tub.
“Don’t tell me that’s my brother or Nick calling you at this hour.”
“No,” he says, frowning. “It’s my brother, Jake. I have to take this.”
He answers, and while he listens, I catch only snippets of the deep voice on the other end, speaking in an urgent tone. Gabe’s face goes slack. A curse punches out of him.
“Okay. Yeah, I’m on my way now.”
My heart was already heavy, but now it’s filled with cold dread when I see the bleak look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“My father’s had a stroke. The ambulance just picked him and my mother up. I have to get to the hospital right now.”
20
~ Gabriel ~
The intensive care unit’s doors swing open in the short hall outside the general waiting room. A grieving family exits together, their muffled sobs growing louder as the group moves listlessly toward the ICU floor’s elevator.
It’s been a constant stream of people in and out of the ward all day, some in tears, others walking in shell-shocked silence, a few so distraught they’ve melted down in sobbing puddles right outside the unit. I’d almost forgotten what a critical care area of a hospital sounded like, but in the sixteen hours since I arrived, it’s all come crashing back to vivid life again.
Idly, I check my phone for the hundredth time. I won’t find the number I really want to see. I left Evelyn’s place without asking how to reach her, and it’s not as if I can call her brother for the information. Instead, I killa few minutes rereading texts from O’Connor and other members of my security team. There’s one from Dominic Baine, too, reiterating what he’d told me on the phone early this morning, that work would wait and I should take all the time I need to be with my family.
My family are some of the lucky ones today. According to Dad’s doctors, the clot that caused his stroke has been mitigated and if he continues to improve as they expect, he should make a full recovery in time. The good news hasn’t kept my mother from worrying, though. She’s been in his room most of the day. As the unit’s doors whisk open again, I hear her voice in the hallway. It’s strained and weary, even as she insists to my brothers who accompany her that she wants to be back first thing tomorrow.
I rise from the uncomfortable waiting room chair as she enters with Jake and our next oldest brother, Ethan.
“Oh, honey. You’re still here?” She reaches for my hand, her slender fingers feeling cold and small in my grasp. “I thought you left a couple of hours ago with Shane.”
I shake my head. “I wanted to stay.”
