FIFTEEN
NATTY
Penelope brushedmy hair back while soothing me with her words. Callie and Laura were with my kids somewhere…at least I hoped they were. But my mind was blank.
Blank and yet painfully full of every memory, every flashback. Every piece of history I had with Silas.
Back to bullfrogs on summer days on our dock.
To the moment our sons were born, and the way Silas smiled that first time with each of them. How he read to them at night and sang silly songs in the morning. How he loved me.
Perfectly, and fully…he loved me the way sonnets were written. The way rain fell, and sunsets painted the skies. Silas loved me like I was his universe, and in turn, I lived as though he were mine. Without him, I couldn’t?—
Another sob came unbidden from my chest. I couldn’t control them. Tears ran freely, and even if I wanted to put on a brave face for my kids, I wouldn’t be able to. It was Christmas Eve, and we were spending it losing Silas.
Silas. My husband. My life.
“She needs water,” Penelope said to someone.
“She’s going to need something stronger than water, Pen.” That was Jameson.
I blinked, and more tears trailed down my face.
“Don’t doubt me, young Jameson King. I have saved many a man from rival wars. I was a field medic in the war,” Pops said happily.
He was old. Too old to likely see the way he needed to see. Silas had lost too much blood, even if there was a transfusion with one of the other members who had stepped up and offered, I wasn’t sure it would be enough and I was too terrified to hope. I couldn’t lose him.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t make it.
“We need to get her out of here.” That was Wes, sounding fearful or worried.
Fuck him. I wasn’t moving. In fact, all I wanted was to go lie next to my husband while he lay dead on the counter that I had spent so much time baking away my worries. Baking more time into my life while I waited for him.
So much of our life was spent waiting on each other, and these last ten years didn’t come close to making up for it. I wanted more.
I demanded more.
Suddenly I got to my knees, pushing Penelope’s hands off of me, and I stomped into the kitchen, seeing them place new bandages over my husband’s gunshot wound.
“Silas!” I screamed.
Pops looked over, and I waited for the pity to come, but he didn’t give it. Neither did Harris.
“He has to fight.” I hiccupped. I knew I looked crazy, but I didn’t care. My mascara had run, my face was blotchy and red, my shirt had blood all over it. My husband’s blood.
A fire erupted in my stomach with fear. With anguish.
“He has to fight!” I cried, going closer to him.
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder, and someone said close to my ear, “he did, Darlin. He did.”
Harrison locked eyes with me, and then gave me a nod. “We’ve done all we can, but we need to leave the rest up to God.”
They both walked out while Killian and Wes came in to grab Silas andgently carry him to a room that had been made up in Laura’s office. A twin bed was there with fresh sheets and a pristine pillow.
Silas’s shirt was gone. I stared at the inked word over his heart.