Page 34 of Chasing Storm

Against her lips, I murmur, “Baby. Love, stay with me.”

Cop cars, and a fire truck and ambulance, skid into the parking lot. Someone pushes me aside and I fall onto my ass, sitting there while they check her vitals.

One of the EMTs says, “Unstable vital signs.”

A cop is yapping in my ear, but I don’t hear him. All my focus is on Teagan. They get her onto the gurney and wheel her to the ambulance. My foot trips over the other, trying to stay with them while someone tugs me back by the shoulder. The EMT is closing the back doors.

I pick up speed. “No! I’m going with her.”

The EMT glances at someone behind me and then hurries me into the ambulance. There’s beeping. Blood. An oxygen mask. My head drops to the dried blood on my hands. Teagan’s dried blood. I gulp down the rising bile. I raise my head, eyes chained to my beautiful wife. My love. My everything. It seems a lifetime before I’m ushered out of the ambulance, and they wheel Teagan down a cold, sterile hallway, leaving me behind. I jog all the way until the large doors close and a nurse tells me I’m not allow past this point. My hand presses against the cold door. Then I make a fist, bang on it once, and stalk toward a waiting room the nurse brings me in. It’s for surgical cases.

I sit, resting my elbows on my knees, transfixed by my bloody hands. What do I do now? Should I call someone? My fingers run through my hair and then grip it. I’m confused. The pounding of blood in my ears makes me dizzy. I look at my hands again, turn to a garbage can next to me and retch. All of breakfast comes up, continuing until there’s nothing left but dry heaves. I’m handed a cold rag to wipe my mouth. My body hits the back of the chair and I squeeze my eyes closed, purging the tears. They seep down my cheeks and a shiver overtakes me as the adrenalin wears off.

A hand touches my shoulder, but my eyes remain closed. “Sir, the police are here to talk to you.”

My eyes open to two cops standing in front of me. Their demeanor hints at the fact that they know me by the lack of empathy shown on their stern faces. Introducing themselves, they fire off question after question, and I give one-word responses, wanting it to end. For them to leave. Finally, they thank me for my time and disappear. A doctor comes toward me, and I stand to talk to him.

“I’m Dr. Fieldman. Are you Teagan’s husband?”

My voice is as fragile as a snowflake. “Yes, I am.”

“We’ve done a quick evaluation of your wife, and she has a perforated abdominal wound.”

I’m shaking my head to clear the fog. “What does that mean?”

“There’s an exit wound.”

“Is she going to be okay? Can I see her?”

“We don’t know the extent of her injuries. Right now, she’s being prepped for surgery. I just came to let you know. Please have a seat and when I’m done, I’ll come out to talk with you more.”

Before I can spit out another word, he’s gone, leaving me standing there, starving for insight into my wife’s fragile state. I’m empty inside. A swirl of anxiety has me staggering back to the chair. The doctor’s words gut me. My little Teacup is going to be carved up. I’m finding it hard to breathe. My phone rings, snapping me out of my daze.

I fumble for it out of my coat pocket, hands shaking, and answer in a grainy tone. “Hello.”

Sean asks, “Hey, are you guys on your way? Your mom and I are heading out for something to eat. Do you want us to pick something up for you two?” My emotions are choking me again, and I can’t respond to Sean. “Joe? Are you there?” Silence stretches. “Joe! You’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”

“Tea...” My lips are shaking from emotion.

“Tea, what?”

My hand swipes across my mouth. My bloody hand. Teagan’s blood.

In a tunnel-like whisper, I hear myself say, “She’s been shot.”

“What?”

My mother is asking something in the background. Sean tells her what I said.

In a crackled voice, I repeat, “She’s been shot. By Jimar.” I’m dazed. “We were at a gas station…” I’m drifting back to the place. The car shields my body. Shots. A squeal of tires. A bloody Teagan. I didn’t shield her from this violence. I took cover, but she didn’t have any. Instead of going behind the car, I should have protected her. Been her shield, taking the shot for her. A sob ruins me.

Sean lowers his voice and asks, “Joe, where are you?”

“Chicago General.”

“We’re coming, Joe. Hang on.”

The call ends and the phone drops into my lap. My head rests against the wall, and I release a stream of tears. We were just here three days ago, visiting Rosie. She didn’t make it. No one could save her from her ex. Maybe no one can save Teagan. What if we didn’t get her here in time? What if they have her laid out in a bed, like Rosie, waiting for me to say goodbye? But I never got to tell her goodbye. I didn’t even tell her I loved her. All I did was tell her not to die. Not to leave me. My love was suffering, blood coating her body, and all I did was worry about myself. I let out an audible sob, sucking in a breath through my nose.

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