Page 5 of Ghost of Christmas Future
Feeling like a robot, Cope got to his feet and let Cisco help put his jacket on. Cisco ran into the kitchen, most likely checking to make sure the stove was shut off. He ran back into the living room with Cope’s phone in his hand.
Cope shoved it into his front pocket and somehow managed to remember his keys and wallet on the way out the door. His hands shook so badly that he dropped his keys on the front steps.
Cisco bent down to grab them before leading Cope to the passenger door of his truck. All the while, Cope had convinced himself, this was a bad dream. He was going to wake up any second now, with Jude’s arms wrapped around him. His lips pressing soft kisses to Cope’s neck.
Wolf’s panicked question swirled through Cope’s head. Was Jude going to die? If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the stone cold terror in his son’s voice. Cope felt as if the world had stopped spinning, like time was moving in super slow motion. Was Jude going to die? Tears streamed down Cope’s face.
The idea of losing his husband was absolutely unthinkable.
3
Jude
Every single muscle, tendon, joint, and bone in Jude’s body was in agonizing pain. He couldn’t remember why he felt this way. Cope would be able to tell him what the hell was going on. Jude tried to open his eyes and nothing happened. He tried a second and a third time, but no dice. In addition to feeling like he’d been hit by a bus, was he also blind? What was going on?
The thought of losing his sight was alarming. Jude tried to move his fingers and toes, but none of them budged. Ditto for his arms and legs. Jude couldn’t swallow either. Jesus,washe dead?
“Crow! Bertha!” Jude shouted. No sound came out of his mouth. He thought he could hear people talking, but their words didn’t make a lot of sense.
“Possible closed TBI. Patient unconscious.”
“Blood pressure is one-forty over ninety five.”
“Salem Police Detective.”
“Ten minutes out from Salem Mercy Hospital.”
Jude tried to shake his head. He didn’t want to go to Salem Mercy Hospital. He was nearly murdered there two years ago. If he was being taken to a hospital, that meant he was alive, didn’t it? He tried to remember what had happened to him and all he could see in his mind’s eye was the Christmas tree. Had it fallen on him? Did he somehow electrocute himself while stringing up the lights? Was Wolf okay? Lizbet? Cope?
Gathering his strength, Jude tried again to open his eyes. Again, he couldn’t. Jude’s body was jarred as the vehicle he was riding in, most likely an ambulance, came to a stop. All manner ofchaos erupted around him. The ambulance doors burst open, sending a blast of frigid air over his body. It was colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra, as Ronan would say. Voices rang out around him with people talking too fast for Jude to understand.
His body, which Jude now realized had been strapped to a stretcher, was being slid out from the back of the ambulance. Maybe that was why he couldn’t move his limbs? As much as Jude hated to think about it, he realized his fingers and toes should have been able to wiggle despite the bands around his chest and legs. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
A gust of hot air hit Jude smack in the face. More people started to yell. Their voices sounded closer. Louder. Still unrecognizable. He was in too much pain to try to understand what they were saying. It sounded as if Wolf’s entire second grade class was in the room with him.
Someone standing beside him began a countdown from three. Jude’s body was lifted and set down again. He’d seen enough medical dramas on television to know he’d just been moved from the stretcher to a bed in the emergency room.
A sharp pinch in his right hand was followed by the sensation that Jude was floating. Miraculously, the pain, which to this point had kept him focused on what was happening to him, slowly started to wane, which was followed by a sensation that made Jude feel like he was flying. All of the voices shouting around him dulled, and blended together, reminding Jude of swimming underwater. His body warmed and Jude felt like he could dance the night away.
It took his scrambled mind a few seconds to realize he’d been injected with some kind of pain medication, which made Jude feel like he was floating on a cloud. He tried again to open his eyes, but found he was too tired to make the effort.
Even though his entire body no longer felt like he’d been run over by a big rig, Jude realized something very bad had happened to him. The kind of thing that could change or possibly end his life. What would Cope do without him? How would his death affect his husband? Ronan and Fitz? More importantly, Wolf and Lizbet?
Jude knew all too well what it was like to grow up without a father. He’d been thirteen when his Dad had been murdered right in front of him. Over the years, his memories of his father had faded almost into extinction. Is that what would happen to Wolf, who was only seven? At two, would LizzyB remember him at all?
As Jude began to drift away, his mind cleared for a moment. He saw Cope’s face. Heard his children laugh. He reached for Wolf and Lizbet, but before he could reach them, everything went black.
4
Cope
Cope stared out the window of Cisco Jackson’s truck as it moved through the streets of Salem. It was Sunday, meaning the traffic was much lighter than it would have been around noontime on a weekday, which he was thankful for. All Cope wanted to do was get to the hospital and see Jude. Find out how he was doing. Maybe see his husband smile and explain the dumbass way he’d managed to hurt himself decorating the Christmas tree. They’d laugh together and Jude would ask if Cope would bring him a sausage and extra cheese pizza from Greek Life. After the scare Jude had put into him, his husband could have any damn thing he wanted.
“You okay?” Cisco asked, startling Cope out of his daydream.
Reality crashed down around Cope. His husband had fallen down the cellar stairs. Jude’s head was hurt so badly that blood had puddled under him. An ambulance had come to their house and had whisked Jude away, its lights flashing, sirens wailing. Jude wouldn’t be sitting up in bed asking for pizza when Cope arrived. In fact, he may never do either of those things ever again. “You know, I always thought Jude would die in the line of duty,” Cope confessed. “To be honest, a simple household accident never crossed my mind. Jude always drives too fast. Eats too fast. Moves too fast.” Cope paused while memories of his husband flooded his brain.
“Jude’s too stubborn to die,” Cisco said, his voice breaking.
