With Every Breath - Page 74/80

In a swift move, he moved his hand so the gun was now pointed at Wade and not her. And she knew exactly what he was going to do. Her love for Wade and her overwhelming fear for his life had weakened the barriers she’d spent so long strengthening and now she was an open book. He was going to kill Wade because he knew it would utterly destroy her. Far more than killing her.

“No!” she screamed, and she flung her body in front of Wade’s just as Thomas shot. Fire exploded through her chest and her mouth opened in a soundless cry just as another shot sounded.

As she slid to the floor, she saw the neat hole form right between Thomas’s eyes and then he was flung back, falling lifelessly onto his back.

Thank God.

She closed her eyes, her relief so profound that for a moment she didn’t feel the horrific pain tearing through her chest. Wade was safe. That was all that mattered. Then another sound, a terrible, guttural cry of heart-wrenching pain registered close to her ears. Oh God, had Wade been hurt after all?

She felt hands on her face and strangely, wetness as well. She struggled to open her eyes and saw Wade’s head hovering over hers, his eyes awash with tears.

“Stay with me, Eliza,” he said hoarsely. “Oh God, baby, why? Why did you do it? You have to stay with me. Don’t you dare close your fucking eyes.”

She watched hazily as he yanked his phone to his ear and began yelling that he needed an ambulance and the situation was critical. For some reason the room was growing darker, but she knew the lights were on. Why was it getting so dark?

Then Wade’s face loomed over hers again but she could barely make out his features. His hand feathered over her cheek and he looked . . . terrified. That was odd. Wade didn’t get scared. Her eyelids grew heavier and then the room went completely black.

“Don’t you give up!” Wade yelled hoarsely. “Don’t let go. You’re free now, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. Please don’t give up. I love you so much. I’ve been in love with you ever since you got into my face the first time we met in my art gallery. Why the hell do you think I spent so much time pissed off at you? You always seemed so determined to get yourself killed. Why would I have taken a bullet for you?”

He went quiet, making a choking sound and she struggled against the darkness to pry her eyelids halfway open, trying to focus on him, to do as he demanded. More noise erupted as people poured into the kitchen. She heard her name from seemingly a dozen directions, but she was only focused on Wade. She was afraid if she lost sight of him, he would be gone forever.

His eyes had gone all watery again and he continued stroking her cheek. Sirens echoed in the distance, becoming louder by the second.

“Lizzie, my God, Lizzie, are you okay?”

Dane was here? Her muddled mind struggled to make sense of the chaos around her. She attempted to look in the direction of his voice, wanting to tell him she was sorry, but when she tried to move, a spasm of pain overtook her and warm, metallic liquid coated her tongue and then slid from the corner of her mouth.

A weird sound that mimicked stabs of pain confused her and then Wade’s lips were on her forehead, pressing tenderly against her skin.

“Be still, baby. Try to stay still for me. I need you to hang on.” He was stroking upward over her forehead, smoothing her hair in a repetitive motion. “In here!” he yelled to some distant person.

She blinked but her eyelids felt so heavy. Wade grew fuzzier and she felt cold. He looked at her with such torture in his eyes.

“Why did you take a bullet meant for me?” he asked brokenly.

She smiled faintly and struggled to respond, battling against the lure of unconsciousness. She licked her lips, trying to rid herself of the odd slickness slithering over her tongue. She couldn’t breathe right, and she wasn’t sure she could respond to his question, but it was too important. He had to know.

“Because I love you and if you died, it would destroy me, kill me anyway. You’re a good man, Wade. The very best. I thought I’d learned what love was. I saw it. It was beautiful. Worth dying for. But you taught me how to love and be loved. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and you gave that to me.”

Her voice became fainter, more somber as she drifted further and further away. A sense of peace settled over her, the most wonderful feeling she’d ever experienced. She smiled, tears sliding hotly down her temples.

“I’m free,” she whispered. “I’m finally free.”

“Eliza!”

The world faded rapidly as more faces pushed in, one barking orders while another pressed on her chest. The last image that registered was of Wade roaring at her not to leave him and of Dane and Zack physically restraining Wade as he tried to lunge for her.

TWENTY-SEVEN

WADE stood in the surgical waiting room, staring broodingly out the window, Eliza’s blood still bright on his clothing, his hands. His team and hers were assembled, all tensely waiting for word. He could feel the weight of Dane’s stare, but there was no judgment, only worry and grief.

He glanced at the rest of her team from his periphery, and they were little better. Their expressions were drawn tight, hopelessness evident in their posture and stance.

Eliza had been in surgery for hours. She’d coded as the EMS personnel had arrived and were attempting to stabilize her. They’d left performing CPR in a load-and-go situation. That had been the last time Wade had seen her.

Eyes closed, lifeless, after saying she was finally free.

Grief welled within him once more and he curled his fingers into tight fists. If only he’d gotten there a few minutes earlier. If only Eliza hadn’t thrown herself in front of him to take the bullet meant for him.

Never had anyone cared enough about him to put themselves between him and death. No one had ever loved him until Eliza, and God, he couldn’t lose her now. He cursed the time wasted, the time he had spent fighting the inevitable. She’d barreled into his life, upending his carefully ordered existence, and for the first time in a lifetime he’d felt alive. And now she lay on an operating table fighting for her life. Because she’d saved his.

Don’t leave me, Eliza. Fight, baby. Please fight. I can’t live without you. Please don’t leave me alone.

He bowed his head, emotion knotting his chest and throat until he couldn’t breathe. All he could see and hear was Eliza screaming no and then launching herself in front of him just as Thomas had fired. Her body jerking, then him shooting Thomas and Eliza sagging to the floor in a pool of blood. He’d never forget that sight. Never get it out of his mind. For the rest of his life, that image would haunt his dreams. He only prayed that she would be lying in bed next to him so when he woke she was there, alive, whole, loving him.