Turning away, I punch in the three numbers and try not to cry. Thedispatcher answers on the second ring. “Hello? Hi,” I say, my voice squeaky, shredded. “I need an ambulance. Someone’s been shot.”
Alex continues his tirade, pacing in circles beside me and kicking at loose clutter on the floor. “What the hell are you even doing with him? Alone, at that. In his house. Why have I never seen this guy before?”
I keep my back to him. Focus on the call.
I try to block out the noise.
This will pass.
“After everything I’ve done for you, and you don’t even respect me enough to answer?”
I give the dispatcher the address, my voice tight.
Alex lets out a humorless laugh. “Are you screwing this dude?”
My eyes squeeze shut.
“You are, aren’t you?”
The woman tells me to stay on the line, but I end the call, chuck the phone, and scramble away.
“Hey!” Alex’s hand snags my wrist in a bruising clutch. “Fucking hell, woman. Answer me.”
I whip back around, ready to erupt. “I’m not cheating on you! God! He’s Tag’s friend. I hardly know him.” Fat, hot tears spill down my cheeks, a culmination of the night, the lingering tequila, and the misplaced words boomeranging at me. I can hardly catch my breath. “I was just trying to help him.”
Toaster jumps off the couch and plops down on my bare toes. The warmth temporarily soothes me as the room goes quiet and Alex sighs, palming the back of his neck with both hands.
He stares at me, unblinking. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know,” I repeat, the words ragged.
Alex pulls me to him, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead and circling his arms around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt?” He cups my jaw, angling my face from side to side, searching for signs of injury. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. It’s been a scary night.”
“Tell me what happened.” He kisses my nose.
“I will. I just…” Hesitation seizes me for a beat before I relax, surrendering to his hug. His heart is racing, his hold on me strengthening as I nuzzle against his chest.
Sirens blare in the distance, slicing through the snowy night. I peer out the window through the cheap vinyl blinds, watching flurries zigzag between power lines and tree branches.
Inching back, I find Alex’s eyes. “One second. I need to grab something. I’ll meet you by the door.”
As the sirens grow closer, I jog into the kitchen, find a napkin and a pen, and jot down a few scribbled words. I place the note on the coffee table before giving Toaster a quick scratch between the ears and meeting Alex at the front of the house.
I spare one last look at Chase as the ambulance pulls up. He doesn’t stir when the flashing lights streak through the frosted glass, painting him in red and blue. Toaster hops back on the couch and snuggles against Chase’s thigh, the dog’s ears perked to full attention.
For a guy who crashed into my world like a wrecking ball, Chase looks devastatingly fragile right now.
My hand clamps around Alex’s palm. I pivot back around, watching the paramedics rush inside, their voices urgent, their movements practiced. Toaster doesn’t budge, his small body curled protectively against Chase’s side.
I should look away. Should let go.
But as they hover over him and check for a pulse, I find myself holding my breath, waiting, hoping, feeling like a listener clinging to the final note of a song…
