Page 49 of A Lie so Dangerous and Fragile

I immediately picked up Tristan’s phone when I saw it. Thank God it wasn’t broken.

“Oh, come on!” I groaned when I found it locked.

I smacked myself mentally when I realized you could make emergency calls even if the phone was locked. I dialed 911 and explained the whole situation and gave them the address. I grabbed three towels and ran to the dining room. I knelt next to his body and tried to stop the bleeding.

I took a glance at the kitchen. I didn’t know how to help both of them at the same time. Moments like this, I wished I had superpowers.

“Stay with me, please. Help is on the way,” I whimpered, touching his cheek with my bloody hand.

He was pale and barely breathing.

I took a glance at Kayden. He was staring at me, oblivious to the whole scene. I smiled at him, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s okay, baby. He spilled ketchup on his shirt,” I said with a smile.

I tied one towel to his arm where he was shot while I pressed the other to his stomach.

“Chloe?” Tristan called weakly. He held my hand that was pressing the towel against his stomach.

“I’m here. Kayden is here. Stay with me. Be strong. Help is coming. You can fight this,” I said, sniffling.

“I’m sorry,” he said faintly, like he was struggling for air. “I will never forgive myself for hurting you, and if I die right now, I will die happy because you’re here with me and our little boy. I’d rather go out like this with you here.” He smiled weakly at me.

“No one is dying, okay?” I said, caressing his cheek. “Stay with me, Tristan. Keep talking to me. I’m right here. I’m going nowhere.”

“I love you. I always will,” he mumbled and closed his eyes.

“Tristan!” I panicked, placing my head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. I must have imagined it. There was no heartbeat.

“No, no, no! Tristan? Tristan! Tristan! Answer me, please!” I cried, shaking his shoulders.

“You can’t do this to me,” I sobbed, clutching his shirt and burying my face in his neck.

I pulled away and began to administer CPR and mouth-to-mouth. I had taken a CPR class for parents a year ago at a community center.

“Come on,” I urged, pressing harder to his chest. “Come on, Tristan! Please.”

I kept going, determined to bring him back. “I will never forgive you if you leave me like this.” I whimpered.

“Tristan!” I pushed harder at his chest, and he woke up with a gasp.

“Hey, look at me,” I cried.

His eyelashes fluttered, and he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said softly and closed his eyes again.

“Tristan, look at me. Don’t you dare die on me, okay?” I said, and his eyes flicked open.

He smiled softly at me. His hand came up slowly and cupped my cheek, his thumb wiping a tear away.

“I don’t deserve these tears,” he whispered.

“You have to fight. There is a lot we need to talk about. You need to be strong for them.” I whispered, and he nodded his head feebly.

I looked at the kitchen. I needed to get to Morris and help reduce the bleeding. I turned back to look at Tristan. He was drifting slowly to unconsciousness. I bit my lip hard, trying to think of the impossible.

How can I be at two places at the same time?

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