Page 139 of Echoes of You

The second EMT placed pads on Nash’s chest. “You need to let go,” he said to me.

It was only then that I realized I was clutching Nash’s shoulder. I gave my hands the order to release him, but they wouldn’t obey.

Lawson rounded to me, gently pulling me back. “Come on. I’ve got you.”

“Clear,” the second EMT said.

There was a sound, and Nash’s body jolted. I shoved my face into Lawson’s shirt.

“Nothing.”

“Clear.”

Another sound. So unnatural.

“I’ve got a heartbeat. We need to move now, or he’ll never make it.”

* * *

I stareddown at my lap. Wren had brought a change of clothes to the hospital for me. The sweatpants were covered in polka dots. I traced an invisible constellation between them—anything to keep from taking in the faces in the room.

Their grief and fear grated against my already raw skin.

A hand closed around mine and squeezed. “He’s strong. A fighter,” Wren said softly.

“I know.” I forced my gaze up to meet hers. Wren’s face was pale, but there was hope in her eyes.

Lawson sat in the corner with his three boys. The youngest was curled on his lap. Charlie had exhausted himself with a crying jag that had sent him into a deep sleep. The eldest, Luke, had his eyes glued to a handheld game console, but there was tension in the teenager’s jaw that gave away his worry and anger. The middle boy, Drew, stared straight at the door as if willing the doctor to show.

Nash’s parents, Kerry and Nathan, sat next to them. Nathan had his arm curled around his wife the same way Nash’s had done around me. A sob rose in my throat, but I shoved it down.

Grae sat opposite me, her hand clutching Caden’s as if he were her lifeline. Next to them was Roan, a darkness emanating from him that was otherworldly—grief and rage that stole my breath.

Holt bent, brushing his lips across Wren’s temple as if he needed that contact to ground him. “I’m going to get a soda. Does anyone need anything?”

No one else asked for anything.

Just as he stood, the surgeon entered the space. Her black hair was pulled into a bun, and she’d smoothed her face into a careful mask. “Nash Hartley’s family?”

Nathan stood. “Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Chung. I performed the operation on Mr. Hartley.” Her voice was even and measured. There was a kindness to it but nothing overly emotional. And I couldn’t read her at all. “The shot was a through-and-through, but it nicked his aorta.”

My fingernails dug into my palms, piercing the skin.

“His heart stopped twice on the table, but we were able to get it beating again both times.”

“What does that mean?” Holt demanded. “Is he going to be okay?”

Dr. Chung turned her focus to Holt. “We won’t know the level of damage until he wakes up. The next forty-eight hours will be critical. I can escort two of you to intensive care now if you’d like to have someone with him.”

My chest burned, and I rubbed at the spot, the same place Nash had been shot. His heart had stopped. Not once. Not twice. But three times all in all.

“Maddie?”

My head jerked up at the sound of Kerry’s voice.

Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Do you want to come see Nash with me?”

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