35. CODY
I watched as Alex barreled through the door as if it were made of paper. The sound of Danielle's screams burned into my memory, destined to stay there forever.
As we maneuvered through the hallways, trying to pinpoint where they were and how we could enter with the advantage, all I could do was hope we weren't too late.
I stayed close behind Alex despite the fact that my impatience was about to battle his methodical pace.
His patience far exceeded mine, but with no weapon of my own, there was nothing safe or effective I could contribute by rushing ahead.
The closer we got, the louder her screams became, and I knew we were close.
Alex froze mid-step.
“Stay here,” he whispered.
“What the fuck? No way.”
“You have no gun, and by now, Landon knows we’re here. I can’t risk you too.”
“Fuck that and fuck you. I’m going.”
Alex didn’t argue. He knew I wasn’t staying behind.
Despite our proximity, I had an uneasy feeling. If Landon knew we were there, why hadn't he made a move against us? He had to have heard Alex bust the door down. A sneaking suspicion that we were walking into a trap settled in my gut. It took three more steps for the fear to be confirmed.
We turned the corner—and it happened in a blink.
A crack of gunfire.
Alex’s body jolted back like an invisible hook had yanked him. He hit the ground hard, a groan escaping his mouth as he clutched his shoulder. My scream got caught in my throat.
His hand twitched toward his gun, and he managed to raise it just a few inches—then a sharp click. A dry, useless click. The gun jammed, and Alex let out a strangled noise of frustration, collapsing back with a curse as he struggled to muster the strength to fix it.
Landon was there, crouched behind Danielle, who was bloodied and bound to a chair. He held her in front of him like a human shield, gun still raised, chest heaving like he was high on the chaos. Danielle whimpered as Landon dragged her forward, positioning her between us like a human shield.
I had no gun.
I couldn’t even move.
Alex’s blood was pooling beneath him, and Danielle’s body blocked any clean shot I might have had. My brain tried to work through the angles, but it was overwhelmed by static, and Danielle’s jagged cries.
I knew trying to reason with Landon would be pointless, and the sight of Alex bleeding out left no good outcomes in the mix.
My mind was unfocused chaos, bouncing between the present situation and flashing back to the last time I saw Danielle, seconds away from proposing as she stormed out on me.
Not even remotely the time for it, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was still upset with me; if she was sitting there wondering why I bothered to come, or if she was relieved that I was there.
I kept thinking about all the things I wanted to say right there in that moment, knowing full well that if I said a word, if Landon found out about us, I was all but killing Danielle myself.
I kept envisioning the future I wanted with Danielle; the house, the perfect wedding, our beautiful children—everything I always wanted but was so afraid to go after. It was the one thing that would keep me firmly planted where I stood instead of lunging at Landon with every bit of strength I had.
Here I was again, seconds away from losing the person who brought me back to life, whom I loved with everything I had, and I couldn’t do a single fucking thing to save her.
"Landon," Alex's voice scattered my thoughts, pulling me back to the tense reality. "You don’t want to screw this up any more than you already have. Just put the gun down, and you can leave here alive."
Landon's laugh was chilling—it was the sound of someone who had lost all grip on sanity.
I couldn't figure out Alex's strategy, but it seemed to be instigating Landon's volatile temper, and I was scared shitless that he might be reckless enough to pull the trigger.
Gunfire echoed again as dust rained down from the door frame I was barricaded behind, only a few inches above my head.
Danielle screamed.
Landon was shouting, swearing, barking threats I couldn’t quite make out. My body was frozen, but my mind was begging for me to move, to do something—anything.
Alex coughed, and blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth as he struggled to lift his head. His face was already pale, and I could hear how ragged his breathing had become.
"Cody," he locked eyes with mine, "You gotta...take my gun. Shoot him."
Chaos overlapped—Danielle’s cries, Landon yelling, my own pulse thundering in my head.
I dropped to my knees, hands slick with blood as I scrambled across Alex’s body, desperately searching until I felt cold metal.
My fingers curled around the grip. The slide was out of alignment—jammed from the fall or blood. I slammed the butt hard against the floor once… twice, until it snapped back into place.
Danielle yelped as Landon yanked her chair to the side, snapping her head back with force.
Everything was fire and noise. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it over my own thoughts.
Time snapped.
I rose fast, peeking around the door frame. Landon’s attention flicked to me. Danielle seized the moment, mouthing the words “I love you” one last time before using the little bit of strength and force she had left to knock herself to the ground, buying me a heartbeat.
That’s all I needed.
I fired.
The shot hit hard, jerking Landon sideways as if someone had ripped the spine from his body. He staggered as he loosened his grip on his gun and then collapsed onto the floor in a heap. The gun tumbled from his hand and skidded across the tiles, landing with a hollow clatter.
I kept my weapon trained on him, breathing hard. Danielle was sobbing on the floor, trying to scoot away, but was far too injured to move much at all.
SWAT burst through the doorway seconds later, yelling commands, sweeping the room. One officer secured Landon’s gun, and another checked for a pulse.
"He's still breathing! Get a medic in here now!"
More boots flooded in. EMTs swarmed Alex first, then moved to Danielle. A pair of officers yanked Landon’s limp arms behind his back and cuffed him, even as blood soaked through his clothes.
Someone shouted for a chest seal. I stood frozen, watching them work on the man who’d nearly destroyed everything.
Why are you trying to fucking save him?
The idea was a fucking gut punch.
Danielle was surrounded now, a medic cutting through the ropes, others checking her head, her ribs, her vitals. Her blood matted her hair. Her face was swollen. I couldn’t even get near her yet.
Alex was being hoisted onto a stretcher, but he caught my eye and gave me a weak grin.
“I really gotta stop putting you in situations where you’ve gotta save my ass.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out hollow.
My eyes darted to Danielle.
She wasn’t speaking or moving, but she clung to the EMT’s hand like she was the only thing keeping her here.
SWAT was radioing status reports. Officers barked orders over open comms.
I backed toward Danielle, who was now being lifted onto a gurney. Her eyes fluttered open long enough to meet mine.
“I’m here,” I whispered, voice breaking.
She gave the smallest nod before closing her eyes and giving in.
The chaos didn’t matter anymore. Not the blood. Not the noise. Just her.
I followed her out to the ambulance, climbing in without asking. No one stopped me.
And I wasn’t leaving her side.
-
I sat in an uninviting, sterile room inside the hospital for hours while doctors attended to both Danielle and Alex, doing anything I could to occupy my time while I waited for word on both.
After a few hours, Alex came back in sporting an arm sling.
I jumped to my feet and hugged him as well as I could without hurting him.
I was relieved, but there was still a sinking pit in my stomach over how long Danielle had been with doctors.
“How is she? Have you seen her? What are the doctors saying?” I couldn’t even let Alex get anything out on his own. I had a thousand questions, and all of them needed answers.
“Look, man. She cracked her skull open and lost a lot of blood. I don’t know yet.”
I let the statement sit with me for a minute. “I’ll give it to her.”
“Dude… I hardly think this is the time for… You know. I mean, I’m sure you’re… great and all, but not ‘bring someone back to life’ great.”
I just stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or roll my eyes. “Jesus Christ, dude. I mean blood. I’m a universal donor. Who do I have to go to talk to?”
It was easier than I thought. I mean, sure, I felt woozy afterwards, but the doctor said getting her the amount she needed without having to wait could only make her situation better.
They finished tending to her injuries and brought her back to the room, unsure how the blows to her head would affect her. She was still unconscious, and a little touch-and-go, but the doctors were hopeful.
I couldn’t do anything but sit beside her, holding her hand, and praying for her to wake up. I felt myself getting tired, but I wasn’t leaving her side. I tucked a loose piece of her hair behind her ear, revealing the new stitches, which I was careful to avoid.
My fingers followed the delicate curve of her ear before I leaned in and whispered, “If I’m forced to lose you in this life, I swear to God, I’ll find you in the next one.”
I nestled my head in the crook of her arm and passed out.