My mouth opens, speechless. I remember it ricocheting but never saw where it hit, distracted by the man I was fighting with.
Wave after wave of guilt slams into me, and fuck… this is my fault. I blink, my vision blurring with a fresh wave of tears. It feels as if my chest is cracking wide open, my heart spilling out right alongside my mother’s.
“She’s not the one that pulled the trigger,” Zade barks, defending me.
Huffing, he turns around and stares out his window, vibrating with fury.
“This is your fault, too,” he accuses snidely, directing it toward Zade. “The both of you. None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for your criminal boyfriend, Adeline.”
Zade turns his head to my father, the leather steering wheel groaning beneath his tightened fists, and for a moment, I’m convinced he’s going to completely snap it in half.
“I think it’s best you shut your fucking mouth from now on, or else I will do it for you. As you’ve made clear, I’m not a good man, and I care very much about how you talk to Addie. That man was holding a goddamn gun to your daughter’s head. This is nobody’s fault but the people who broke into your home.”
Dad meets his stare, words on the tip of his tongue. In the end, he shakes his head and turns to look out the window again, content with where his fingers are pointing.
The car falls into a weighted silence, the four of us conflicted for different reasons.
I look down at my mom, a sob working up my throat as I stare down at her pale face. My tears drip onto her cheeks, but I don’t dare remove my hands from the wound to wipe them away.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I don’t want to do this life without you, so stay with me, okay?”
Try as I might, my PTSD is beginning to resurface as Zade whips us into a driveway within twenty minutes, driving up to a wooden cabin with a warm yellow glow emitting from the windows. I recognize this cabin—barely.
Zade brought me here right after he found me, and I hardly remember a thing about this place or Teddy, just that both the house and the doctor were warm and inviting. Opposite to the memories of a different doctor that are currently sending my blood pressure through the roof.
“This is Teddy’s house?” I ask, my hands numb.
Flashbacks of waking up in a make-shift hospital, an old man with pale blue eyes and a deranged smile beneath his bushy mustache leaning over me, asking me to come with him. My heart pumps wildly, and it feels like it’s cracking my rib cage from the force.
The second the car comes to a stop, Sibby is scrambling out of the car as if she was stuck underwater with no air. She storms off somewhere, muttering about having to leave her henchmen behind. None of us have the mental capacity to worry about her in this second.
“Yes. I know you might not remember much, but his name is Teddy Angler, and his son is Tanner. They’re good friends of mine,” he answers, shutting the car off and hurrying to the back door.
“Keep the pressure on her chest,” Zade instructs. Quickly and carefully, he slides Mom out of my lap, cradling her against his chest while I keep my hands firmly planted on the wound. Together, we rush up to the front door just as it opens.
Two men usher us in, Dad close behind. The warmth and comfort of the house are familiar, yet still shocking to my system.
I recognize both men. The elder one is Teddy, and the younger one—though still in his forties at least—is Tanner.
They lead us down the hallway straight ahead and into a room with a hospital bed, IV pole, and several other machines.
Panic resurfaces, and I’m no longer standing in Teddy Angler’s hospital room but Dr. Garrison’s. He’s standing before me, pleading with me to come with him, a crazed look in his milky blue eyes. Half of his head is gone, blown off from Rio’s bullet, and his shredded brains exposed.
No, no, no. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to—
“Adeline,” Zade calls roughly, shaking me until Dr. Garrison fades, replaced by concerned yin-yang eyes. “You’re here with me, little mouse. No one is going to take you from me.”
I blink, vision blurred, and chest tight with panic.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, frustration beginning to filter in alongside the million other fucking emotions I can hardly contain.
“Don’t be, baby. Come sit down, and let them operate. Your mom is going to make it, okay?”
“Is that what Teddy said?” I ask, peeking around Zade’s shoulder, but I can’t see much behind Teddy’s larger stature and Tanner on the other side. Dad sits in the corner of the room, staring at Mom with a pinched expression.