Page 125 of Something like Love

Some deep, suppressed memories rattle around in my mind, and when they’re finally unleashed, I know I’ll never be the same.

“I turned you into an unstoppable force, and this is how you repay me?”

“I never asked you to. I just wanted to be normal,” I sadly reply, shaking my head. “But I will never be normal, thanks to you.”

I see a flicker of…something flash behind Phil’s eyes, but before I can question it, his detached mask slips back into place.

“Call it what you will, but I never abandoned you. Unlike her,” Phil says, pointing his finger toward Cynthia, who hangs her head in shame.

“I did it because I was young and stupid. I loved Chandler, and being with him made me happy.”

“You were married,” Phil says, reminding her of her sins.

“I know,” she replies with regret. “But Thomas, he changed. He turned into you.”

Suddenly, everything slows down to single moments in time.

I watch in horror as the van’s side door slides open, and Thomas emerges with a rifle in hand. He aims and shoots, and the noise is so loud that I cover my ears. But as my rattled brain processes what just happened, I frantically turn and drop to my knees in disbelief.

Cynthia lies in a bloody pool, feet away from where she once stood, as the force of the high-powered rifle literally knocked the shoes she wore right off her feet. Her blood gushes from a wound in her abdomen, and the lush grass, which was once green, is now stained a bright red.

Polly’s scream echoes in my ringing ears when she runs down the stairs, charging over to her mother’s side as she lies dying, gagging on her own blood.

I will my body to move, but I can’t, all I can do is watch.

Abi’s high-pitched screams pierce my eardrums, and I resist the urge to cover them because I can vaguely hear a soft voice coaxing me back to reality. That voice is my only tether to this universe because I feel like I’m slowly dying inside.

Each breath I take, I swear it’ll be my last because I feel my organs shutting down, unable to accept what I’m currently witnessing.

I don’t know how, but I clearly see Phil charge over to Thomas, seizing the rifle from his hands and slapping him across the face.

Thomas covers his mouth, looking at the bedlam his jealousy has just caused.

“Red…oh, fuck. Mia…breathe!” That warm voice resonates once again, begging for my awareness.

My sluggish mind recognizes that voice as my lifeline, and I hold on tight, as I need it to pull me out before I’m lost for good.

I take a deep, ragged breath, and my starved lungs sing in relief as I allow my depleted organs to fill up with air.

“Oh, thank God,” Quinn cries, his hands on my cheeks as he kisses my face over and over.

Everything is still so fuzzy—I realize that my body went into shock.

But now that I’m semi-alert, my reality comes crashing down with a loud bang.

“Cynthia!” I cry, scrambling toward her bleeding form on my knees.

The minute I reach her, my body threatens to give out once again, but Polly’s pleas for help give me the strength I need.

Ripping off my sweater, I place the material on her gaping wound, trying to apply as much pressure as I can without hurting her. The fact she isn’t dead is a fucking miracle, but I know she doesn’t have long.

“She needs to go to a hospital!” I scream over my shoulder, my eyes landing on Phil.

Tristan, Abi, Quinn, and Polly surround me, watching and waiting for my command.

But I don’t have the answers, and I didn’t have them for Hank, either. But unlike Hank, I won’t allow her to die.

I’ll do whatever I have to, to save her life.

---