A Much Younger Man (Tryst Series Book 1)
Page 11
“I can’t just stop,” I said simply.
“Did you hear what I said?” the gunman seemed more angry than before, being ignored didn’t agree with him.
“I heard you,” Cole answered.
“I don’t think you did. You’re as bad as the teachers, the administration, all of it. You’re a rich, entitled prick who funds all of this. If you didn’t accept the situation and pay their exorbitant fees they’d have to change the system. But you keep paying and then you’re here protecting her honor. She doesn’t deserve it.”
“She does,” he said with his quiet strength. His voice was calm and quiet, but his words so powerful to me.
In that moment, he let me know the extent of those words. He wiped the tears from my face, our eyes meeting and for the first time in months, I knew he still cared. “I’m sorry, Kat. I had to leave you. I thought it was best. I could never give you a future.”
“I would have taken the present with you.” I cried, my tears bringing back the pain and wishing I could leave this room with him and have him wrap his arms around me.
Cole always knew what I was thinking…what I needed. Right now was no exception and he reached for me. I felt his touch and ironically, in spite of our situation, I felt momentary happiness. But no sooner did the thought enter my mind, the shot rang out. Loud and sudden. Fast and without any warning.
Cole slumped in my arms, his eyes confused over what occurred.
“Look what you made me do! I didn’t mean to do that!” The gunman’s voice brought my attention to the angry blood that seeped from Cole’s chest, marring his white shirt. I vaguely heard one of the SWAT team members shout, “Shots fired!” as the door was kicked open. One more shot was fired —a direct hit to the gunman’s temple.
But all I could focus on was Cole. His eyes were fixed on mine and then, they fluttered closed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I don’t remember the face of the man who shot the gunman. Within seconds of that shot, I was mildly aware of them proclaiming our captor dead. Dead. I couldn’t let Cole suffer the same fate. I pressed my hands to his chest wound, my voice begging him repeatedly to stay with me. How ironic that just a few months prior I had the same thoughts.
“Please don’t go. I need you.” My words were sobs. My tears blinded my vision. I couldn’t lose him again.
More sirens could be heard and within moments a paramedic team arrived. They were fast and efficient, hooking Cole up to an IV and placing an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.
“Pulse rate is dropping; breathing is shallow; BP is 90/60 but dropping.”
“Kat…”
I left his side only for a minute when the paramedics were working on him, but in hearing my name I ran to be close and took his hand.
“I’m sorry I hurt you…”
“Shh, don’t talk. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” I said the words like a mantra, over and over. Needing their message to be real.
“I love you, Kat. I never stopped…”
His heart was fickle. At one point he had convinced me that it had stopped loving me. Now, I just prayed that it wouldn’t fail him as well.
“I love you, Cole. You make the world beautiful. I love you so much.” I would have kept saying the words over and over if I thought they could help. But Cole’s eyes closed once more.
Two paramedics lifted him onto a gurney while a third adjusted the drip. They hurried him out to the corridor and I hurried alongside them.
“Miss, please…” someone grabbed my arm. “They’re taking him to a hospital. You need to stay and be checked over.”
The paramedic gently put his arm around me, leading me back to my classroom, the last place I wanted to be. I sat in a chair, barely aware of the world around me. They checked my own pulse, dabbed cotton on my head wound, listened to my heart rate, and shone a light in my eyes. I could have told them what they needed to know about me in that moment. My pulse only beat for Cole. My heart was broken. The light and sparkle gone from my own eyes the moment that Cole’s closed.
Epilogue
One Month Later…
I’ve learned to find solace in the rhythmic sounds of the hospital equipment. It soothes me. The noise is the only constant in my life. It’s slow and steady, never waning, and I find comfort in the continuity of it.
In the month that Cole has spent in this ICU ward, I haven’t found wisdom about our relationship, but I have gained perspective. Cole once warned me that we couldn’t last forever. I dreaded when that day — our goodbye — would arrive, and I never expected it to be as soon as it occurred.
The thing about goodbyes is that too often we never know when they happened until the moment passes. Before the shooting I tried to remember how I felt the last time he kissed me or the last time we laughed together. The last time we made love. I didn’t know those were the “last times.”
There were so many reasons why being with Cole was wrong, and I knew that no good could come of us being together…even when it felt so right.
In the days that followed the shooting, friends and loved ones would gather at his hospital bed vigil. I didn’t care that they saw my tears. They all thought it was due to the trauma of witnessing the shooting. I didn’t bother to correct anyone, nor did I leave when they gently said I should get some rest. Many of the friends have moved on and continued with their lives, but I remain.
I feel as if I have been forced to say goodbye to Cole more times than I care to count. I’m not sure I can fully accept the old adage that it’s better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all, but I do know that in those moments when love was part of my life, it was the best feeling in the world. I want to find that feeling again.
I know that I’ll have pain, but without feeling pain one cannot know what it’s like to feel happiness. Until then, I’ll hold onto my pain like the cold winter, until love eventually thaws my heart and brings back the light of sunshine to my eyes and soul.
I don’t know when Cole will wake up. I can’t bring myself to say ‘if’. I have no guarantees that we’ll be back together. One day, love will find me again, but until that time and forever after it, my heart will hold its dear memories close.
I hold his hand. I imagine his voice. Thoughts of happier times with Cole are always on my mind during these hours spent in this dismal hospital room.
And suddenly, I have hope.
The hand that I’ve held for days and weeks gives mine a slight squeeze. It’s so imperceptible I wonder if it’s just a muscle spasm. But then Cole opens his eyes.
“You’re awake.”
“Kat…” It’s not more than a whisper.
“I’m here.”
I’m here for him.
Thank you for taking time to read “A Much Younger Man.”
If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated.
Thank you, Mia.
About the Author
Mia Fox is a Los Angeles-based romance novelist. She received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in Communications from U.S.C.
Before writing full time, she worked as an entertainment publicist, a career she chronicles in her novel, “Alert the Media.” However, she is happy to leave that world behind her, preferring that any drama in her life is only that which she creates for her characters.
She lives with her husband, three children, and Bean…their wonderful Westie.
Learn about new releases and exclusive giveaways by following Mia on Amazon.
Keep in touch with Mia here…
@MiaFoxBooks
MiaFoxBooks
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