Chapter Seven
Rosie
I scream. At least, I think it’s me screaming. Sound seems to have disappeared for me as I thrash against Luke’s hold. I see the top of Steve’s head through the bushes, his greasy face peeking through the hole in the shrubbery.
“Rosie! Rosie! We have to get out of here, we have to get help!” Luke shouts into my ears. I’m still watching where Wade is laid on the ground, blood pooling around him, soaking his gorgeous black curls. I love everything about him and I never even told him. I should have told him.
When I look back up, I see that Steve is no longer in the bushes and when I look beyond, I spy his disgusting little body running away like the coward he is. Luke lets go of me and I immediately run to Wade. I put my hand by his mouth and can see him still breathing. Luke comes up next to me and kneels down.
“I have medical training from the military,” he says gently. “I’ll stay with him, you need to call 911 one right now,” he says, passing me his phone. He rips off the flannel he’s wearing before bunching it over Wade’s wound and using his arm to elevate his head.
“Okay,” I whisper. My fingers shake as I dial 911 and I blackout as I explain what happened. Within seconds, I hear sirens and let out a side of relief.
“He’s still breathing. I don’t think the damage should be too severe,” Luke says, trying to reassure me. I give him a watery smile.
“This never would have happened if it wasn’t for me,” I say sadly. Luke shakes his head. “Don’t think that way. Steve was going to lose it sooner or later, and I know for a fact Wade is glad it’s him on the ground right now and not you. You need to be strong for him. He loves you, you know,” Luke finishes.
“I love him, too,” I say softly. “I should have told him.”
“You will,” Luke says, much more confidently than I feel.
“Thank you for being here,” I tell him.
“I’d do anything for Wade and he’d do the same for me. I’m just glad I was here.”
“Me too.”
The ambulance pulls up a moment later and paramedics pull Wade off the ground, talking to Luke about the extent of his injuries. I sit there in shock as they wheel him into the ambulance.
“Do you want to go with him?” Luke asks me. “I can if you don’t want to,” he offers and I appreciate that he’s giving me an out, but I could never take it.
“I’ll go,” I say. “I need to be with him.”
“Text Tessa with any updates, we’ll be over as soon as we can,” Luke says, pulling me into a quick hug and I can’t even explain how lucky I am to have them as friends.
“Thank you,” I whisper, letting go and climbing into the ambulance behind Wade’s stretcher.
The doors slam and as we drive away I’m filled with nothing but hatred for Steve, for how insecure he was, for how unaccepting he was of me and my position.
How could this have happened?
***
I wake with a jolt, sitting in the same chair beside Wade’s bed that I’ve been in for the last two days, only leaving briefly to eat and to change my clothes. I feel like I need to be here with him every second, it’s what he would do for me. I know it in my heart.
Tessa, Ava, Luke, and Scott have popped in a few times to check-in and bring me snacks and I couldn’t be more grateful for their friendship. Sophie has been here most of the time, too. Making sure her brother is okay and advocating for both of us with the police. They followed us into the hospital the other day and have come back to question me a few times about Steve. They said he seems to have fled town, but that they won’t stop looking for him any time soon.
I’m disappointed, and frustrated, that he has gotten away with all the pain he has brought to my life, but I have hope he’ll slip up and be caught soon. He can’t be too smart. The cops also told me they found journal entries at his house about how much he hates me, hates what I took from him.
I can’t help but feel a bit bad for him. He’ll never know success, know what it’s like to have such an amazing group of friends and feel joy for them. He’s pathetic, really, and I know he’ll get what’s coming for him soon enough.
Wade has been out cold the last few days recovering from the small surgery he had to remove the bullet. It missed all of his organs, thank God, so he should make a full recovery, it will just take some time.
Which is fine, I hope we have all the time in the world after this.
I place my hand on top of his, curling my fingers beneath his palm and lean my head over his body, desperate for him to wake up, to hear his voice, to feel his touch again. He nearly lost everything because of me, the least I could do is give my all to him in return.
Just as I’m about to drift off again, I don’t even know what time it is—sometime in the middle of the night, I think, I feel his hand squeeze mine. I shoot up, meeting sleepy brown eyes as a slow grin spreads across his face.
“Hi,” I whisper-shout, tears falling down my cheeks.
“Hi, honey,” Wade croaks out. “Can’t believe that fucker shot me,” he says with a laugh. I return it, though it comes out as a half-sob, half-cackle, that is not attractive. I can’t bring myself to care. I crawl on the bed, settling next to him, careful not to touch his chest.
“How long have I been out?” he asks, laying his head against my chest as I play with his curls. Despite what brought us here, everything about this moment feels right.
“A few days,” I say back. I tell him about the cops and Sophie standing our ground for us, about our friends stopping in, how Luke saved his life by stopping the bleeding, and how Steve ran away like the slimy coward he is.
“Do they have any leads on him?” he asks, leaning further into my touch.
“No… but I think they’ll find him. They did say they found a bunch of journal entries about how much he hated me at his house.”
“I should have killed him,” Wade whispers but the anger is apparent in his tone.
“I think we’ll be free of him soon enough,” I say back.
I take a deep breath before I continue speaking. “I… I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did. If you hadn’t forced me out of the way, I would probably be where you are now, or dead. You saved my life, Wade.”
“I’d do anything for the woman I love, Rosie,” he says softly, lifting his head and meeting my eyes. His own brown depths swimming with nothing but affection. Love. He loves me too. “I can’t believe someone tried to hurt you in that way,” he continues, “that I was almost too late to save you. All I could think in that moment was how much I loved and you and how I hadn’t told you yet. There was no choice but to show you.”
I’m crying again, overwhelmed by his declaration and by his actions. He’s the most perfect man in the world.
“I love you, too, Wade. I knew it almost as soon as I saw you and when you jumped in front of me, I felt the same way, that I hadn’t told you. That I should have told you the second I met you, really. There was no one before you and there will be no one after you. You’re my one and only,” I say.
“My one and only,” he repeats before meeting my lips with a ferocious kiss. We pull away with a shared laugh moments later, not wanting to get riled up while he’s healing.
“I love you,” I repeat over and over as I stroke his hair. He drifts back to sleep after the doctor comes in to check on him and I stay there all night long, never willing to leave his side.
My perfect, selfless man.