Page 123 of Fall to Me
I won’t be here to meet my babies.
Won’t be here to watch them grow.
Whoosh-whoosh.
Everything fades, then goes black, and I feel a tear slip down my cheek as memories of River flip through my mind. I want to tell her that I love her.
Whoosh-whoosh.
I can’t remind her. I need to remind her . . .
Whoosh-whoosh.
That . . . my soul . . . will find . . . its way?—
Thirty-Eight
River
Aspen pads down the stairs, her long, black hair still damp from the shower and her phone pressed to her ear.
“Cal . . .w-wait slow down. What do you mean?” her voice trembles as her expression shifts to confusion.
A frown tugs at my own brows, and I stand from the couch, mouthing:are you okay?
“Oh my god! Take Tucker back to mom’s right now! Yeah. I need to take care of her . . .”
I’m so busy worrying about the tears falling down Aspen’s face that it doesn’t register what’s being said on the TV until I hear, “. . . Sinclair Tower near Central Park, where we’ve received multiple reports of a hostage situation.”
My stomach drops. I whip around to face the TV, and stumble closer to the screen, hoping that I’ve heard wrong as the news anchor continues, “We’ve spoken to the New York City police chief, who has confirmed that a suspect in an ongoing investigation, Jaxon Martin, broke into the home of New YorkBlaze hockey player, Carter Graham, this morning. This is considered a hostage situation. The police have reason to believe that Martin is armed and dangerous. We . . . we are now receiving reports of multiple gunshots fired. I repeat, there have been shots fired. The police are asking everyone to stay away from this area?—”
The room tilts, and I lose my breath. Ringing fills my ears and drowns out everything else.
Please, God. No.
My chest caves, and before I know what’s happening, my knees hit the ground.
“River. River. Listen to me. We don’t know that Carter was shot. Okay? It could’ve been Jaxon. Look at me. Look at me. Good. That’s it. Eyes right here. Breathe . . . breathe. Stay tough for me, okay?”
I nod as a guttural sob rips from deep within my soul.
“Come on, River. We have to go.”
As Aspen links an arm in mine and hauls me up from the ground, my mind checks out. I’m physically here, but my mind isn’t registering what’s going on around me. It isn’t until I hear the song that Carter and I danced to at Aspen’s wedding reception, “Die with a Smile” by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga, that I realize we’re in the car. I reach over and punch the mute button with my finger, then cover my face with my hands, and weep.
“God . . . P-Please . . . please don’t take him from me. I-I can’t live without him,” I choke out into my hands.
My heart hurts. It fucking hurts. I can’t catch my breath.
I hear Aspen sniff, then feel her hand rub up and down my back, but the comfort of her hand quickly leaves me when she answers a phone call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Aspen. I heard what happened. I went ahead and postponed tonight's game and issued a crisis statement to the media.”
“Thanks, Teagan,” she says, her voice thick and laced in grief. “Handle whatever needs to be done. I need to take care of my sister right now.”
“Okay. I’ll let you go. Let River know I’m thinking about her.”
