If David’s dead, would they have to?
“Is the other boy okay?” I ask the paramedic once I’m seated in the back of the ambulance. “Is he going to live?”
The paramedic doesn’t answer me for a while, just goes about her business of checking my vitals, her fingers probing the delicate skin of my wrist where I was bound before she checks the knife wound on my neck. “You’re lucky that blade didn’t penetrate your skin further,” she murmurs as she applies antiseptic to the cut.
I meet her gaze and try to compose myself. “Please,” I whisper. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She sighs and slowly shakes her head. “Your boyfriend is fine. The bullet seemed to go clean through his arm. They’re bringing him into the ambulance right now. The other one…his injuries are more severe but I think he’s going to make it.”
“You do?” The relief that floods me is overwhelming. I know I shouldn’t care if David lives or dies after everything he’s done but I don’t wish death on anyone. Even a boy who holds a knife to my throat and threatens to kill me.
“Yes,” she says with a firm nod. “Now let’s get you situated before they bring your boyfriend in. You can talk to him then, okay?”
“Is he conscious?”
“He’s lucid, yes.”
I wait for the stretcher to come into the ambulance and within minutes it appears, Nick lying on it, his eyes closed, his arm bandaged. I lean over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he smiles.
The sight of that smile sends my heart racing to the sky.
“I look bad, huh?” he asks, his voice faint, that smile still curling his lips.
“You look tough.” He looks beautiful. A little pale but alive, the bandage wrapped tight around his bare arm, his chest and stomach on display, his shoeless feet covered with mud. “I’ve never seen you look better.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re glad I survived.” He cracks open his eyes. “That scared the shit out of me.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“When he had that knife to your throat, I thought…” He shudders and closes his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
I take the hand of his uninjured arm and lace our fingers together tight. I don’t ever want to let him go. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah.” He swallows and winces. “Me too. My arm hurts like a son of a bitch.”
“You’re going to be fine. It’ll be an awesome scar.” I bring our linked hands up to my mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles.
“Hell yeah, it will.” His eyes open again and he groans. “Your brother is going to kick my ass.”
I laugh, the sound watery, and I realize I’m crying as well, the tears flowing down my cheeks and dropping onto his chest. “No, he won’t. You saved my life.”
“I did, didn’t I?” His mouth curves into this little lopsided smile and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “You saved my life too, Rev. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
His words break down the walls I’ve held up for so long as I tried my best to be strong. I bend over Nick and cry, my face pressed against his chest, my tears dampening his skin. I can feel his heartbeat, his body solid and strong, and I cry harder at the thought of losing him.
But I didn’t lose him. I won’t ever let go of him again.
He squeezes my hand, his fingers so strong and sure that I know he’ll be all right.
And so will we.
***
Six months later
“Oh my God, you look gorgeous.” I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching for him, my heart racing with pure pleasure at the sight of my boyfriend. “All the girls will be jealous of my prom date.”
Nick glances down at himself, his mouth scrunched as he tugs at his bow tie, appearing uncomfortable and completely out of his element. “I’m doing this for you, I hope you realize this.”
“I do. Trust me.” I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist, kissing his smooth cheek. He smells delicious. “You look good in a tux.”
“Yeah? Well, let me look at you.” He reaches for my hands and pulls me away from him, his gaze drinking me in slowly, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, his eyes getting wider and wider. “Hell, Rev. What are you wearing?”
“A question I need to ask as well,” Evan says from behind me.
I turn to find my big brother scowling at me. I do a twirl, the skirt of my turquoise dress swirling around my legs. “You don’t like it?”
“