Page 79 of Help Me Remember

Blood leaked from his throat, soaking his shirt and staining the patio beneath him. Ana held on to him, tears running down her face as she stared at Eric and then glanced at Patterson’s unmoving body nearby. I had no idea what could possibly be going through her head as she stared at the man who had been a partner to her and who she’d once considered a friend.

“Eric, don’t do this to me right now,” I told him, realizing only then that the shouts were coming from men in black armor with rifles rushing down on us. “Not now, please.”

“S’okay,” he repeated, and I could see how pale he was becoming.

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I didn’t realize…you shouldn’t have,” Ana began, shaking her head as her voice became strangled.

“I’d do it again,” Eric said with a smile, limply trying to find her arm to pat her. She had her uniform top off and pressed to his neck, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” I told him in a choked voice, reaching down to cup his face as gently as I could without moving his neck. “Why are you so fucking stupid?”

“Yeah, I love you too,” Eric said with a chuckle, only to wince again.

“How can you say that?” I moaned, desperate to ensure he hung on for as long as possible. Help had already arrived in the form of guns. There had to be help in the form of medics and doctors too. “After everything.”

“Because…because you’re you,” he told me with a deep, ragged breath. “I’m still mad at you.”

“And I’m mad at you. Can we just be even and okay now?” I asked him, not caring that I sounded like a little boy as I whispered it desperately to him.

“Don’t think it works like that,” Eric said with a smile that had no strength. “I’m starting to get cold, and that’s—”

“No, no, no, no, Eric!” I demanded, trying to get him to keep his eyes open.

I felt hands clamp down on my shoulders and drag me back. I bellowed, lashing out at the nearest person who tried to lay their hands on me. More hands touched me, and I could hear Ana screaming, but I couldn’t make out the words. All I knew was whoever this was, they were trying to take me away from Eric, who was lying there dying because of me.

“Fuck, he’s strong!”

“Get his legs, get his legs!”

“Shit, my nose!”

“Where are those cuffs?”

“Motherfu—”

“Screw this. Just hit him good.”

The voices came in rapid succession, and I ignored them, lashing out at anything and everything I could see. I sensed a break in their formation and surged forward, knowing I finally had my chance. I knocked the officers away from me and took to my feet.

I saw Ana. I saw men approaching hurriedly from behind, and I saw Eric, pale and unmoving. I took a step forward and felt the sharp prick of something driving into my skin. The next thing I knew was pain ripping through me as my muscles spasmed. The agony was nothing compared to the sudden loss of control as I seized up, my body going taut.

Then I dropped, unable to stop myself as I fell bonelessly to the ground. I barely noticed the pain as my head cracked against the concrete, making it spin. Everything was growing fuzzy and dark, but I could still see Eric, now surrounded by strangers as they knelt beside him.

“No,” I moaned as I felt my arms locked behind me and cold steel pressed around them. My legs were numb, and I groaned pitifully as I was dragged roughly to my feet. “Eric, no.”

Everything was spinning around me as I was dragged away, my vision growing cloudier. I barely noticed the hissed curse of frustration from one of the men trying to lug me as I went boneless. Despair filled me as I slumped, and I wished I had done more, wished I had said more. Darkness began to overtake me, and the internal scream of horror in my head became a wail of heartbreak.

I’m sorry, Eric. I love you.

I should have said it.

I should have said it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The room they were holding me in was brightly lit to the point of making me feel half-blind while I sat in the metal chair. The air conditioning had been set to maximum, leaving my skin chilled and the metal table I sat at too uncomfortable to touch. The walls were bare of anything save for a few marks, and I knew full well the mirror set into one of the walls was one-way glass.

After dragging me here, they’d made a couple of medics look me over once they were sure I was calm enough not to lash out even when cuffed. Not that it was necessary. Once I’d woken up in the cruiser’s backseat, it had been with the immediate memory of what had transpired before I lost consciousness.

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