Page 81 of Still Missing You

“You idiot,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand shifts weakly, brushing against mine where I’m pressing on the wound.

“I’ve got you,” I say quickly. “You’re going to be okay.”

Sirens scream outside now, right on top of us. Doors slam. Voices shout.

Linc rushes outside, yelling, “Back here!”

Dylan’s breathing is shallow, uneven.

“Stay with me,” I repeat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, but his eyes flutter slightly. Panic spikes sharp and brutal in my chest.

“No,” I say, louder now. “Stay with me, Dylan.”

“I’m here,” he insists weakly.

The door bursts open again, flooding the shed with light and noise. Police. Paramedics. Everything happens at once.

Hands on my shoulders try to pull me away from Dylan, but I don’t budge.

“Sir, we need you to step back,” someone says, a paramedic most likely, but I don’t move.

“I’m not leaving him,” I snap.

“We need to treat him.”

I hesitate for half a second, then nod. “Okay.”

I pull my hands away reluctantly, blood slick and warm as the paramedics move in, cutting through Dylan’s shirt, applying pressure, working fast and efficiently.

“He’s conscious,” one of them says. “Gunshot wound to the side. Let’s move.”

A stretcher appears, and they lift him carefully. Dylan winces, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“I’m right here,” I say, moving alongside them.

His hand finds mine for a brief second, squeezing weakly. “I know.”

They carry him out into the frigid night. Sirens blare, lights flashing red and blue across the snow.

I follow, my hands still shaking.

Behind us, Linc has handed Nancy over to the police. Her shoulders slump, and she sobs softly. All the fight has gone out of her. Matthew is rushed out on another stretcher, barely conscious but alive. Linc follows.

I turn my attention back to Dylan. As they load him into the ambulance, I climb in after him without hesitation.

“I’m not leaving,” I say.

No one argues. The doors slam shut, and as the ambulance pulls away, I take Dylan’s hand again and hold on like his grip is the only thing keeping me grounded.

“Stay with me,” I whisper.

Because I’m not losing him. Not again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine