Chapter 43 The Truth
The truth
Sophia
My ears are ringing so loudly I can’t hear anything else, just an echo throbbing in my temples.
“Ollie?” His heavy frame covers mine, crushing me into the gravel. “Ollie? I can’t—”
Hot, wet drips onto my face and throat.
And he doesn’t move.
“Oh my god! Ollie? Oliver? Wake up, baby!” I grab his head, lifting him far enough to see the blood running down his cheeks to soak my chest.
Struggling to move, I shift my leg and feel a spear of agony lance through my thigh.
What happened?
“Ollie? Please wake up.” Tears begin to blur my vision, overshadowing any pain in my own body.
My hands are covered in red, every time I touch him, all I can feel is torn flesh and the scalding burn of his shredded skin.
Then shadows appear, pulling him off me…lifting me…low voices asking if I’m okay.
No. I’m not.
“Where’s Oliver?” I cry out as I’m pulled away. “Help him.” I repeat it over and over, a whimpering mantra that I don’t even recognize as my own words.
Sirens blare and unfamiliar faces hover above me as my limbs are moved without my control.
Please. Someone tell me he’ll be okay.
Anyone?
My mouth doesn’t want to form sounds even as my mind screams for answers.
“Sophia? I’m here.” Warm hands grip mine, but the voice… it’s not my husband.
“Daddy?” Blinking, I try to pull his image out of the blur.
“Yes, sweetie. We’re going to the hospital.” His amber eyes are shiny with tears as he smooths my hair from my face.
“Daddy—” Pain and fear well within me. “—where is he? He wasn’t waking up—” There’s a biting, sharp something pinching into my thigh.
“I know, honey.” His hollow gaze lowers to stare at where he holds my fingers.
They’re crusted with blood, sticky against his palm.
I squint up at him, suddenly confused why he’s here. “Where’s Lori?”
“She’s riding with Char and Dix back to the ranch.” His hoarse tone betrays the emotion he’s fighting.
“My head hurts,” I whisper, closing my eyes. The darkness brings some relief from the bright lights inside the ambulance.
Dad squeezes my hand and then presses it to his cheek. “I’m here, Soph. I’m here.”
***
“Sophia?” A deep voice beckons me from the black pools.
Pain tries to push me back.
“Sophia? Can you wake up for me?” the same person asks.
I know that sound.
But when my eyes flutter open, the bright lights pierce like shards of glass.
“Hurts,” I mutter. My throat aches. I try to swallow and I can feel my mouth twist into a grimace.
“I turned them down and have some water, if you want some?” They sound familiar.
I try again, this time the harshness is gone and only the neon glint of a monitor lights the room. It takes a moment, but I focus on the thick mustached face scowling over me.
“Uncle Dixon?” I don’t know what’s going on.
I remember…the wedding. Ollie.
I love him so much. The loud boom…so much blood.
Dad was there? After, not before. Why does the memory look kinda like him, yet isn’t?
“Cade!” I sit up too violently, sending an arc of fire through my leg and head.
“Easy,” Uncle Dixon’s palm firms on my shoulder, settling me back into the mattress. “Why would you say his name?”
“He was there.” A sob lodges in my throat. “He attacked me. Then Ollie—” I choke on the words remembering after the blast, and fall into the pillow as hot tears burn down my cheeks.
“Is he okay? I need to see him.” I look to my uncle, then notice the sheriff sitting behind him. “Wade! Cade did this. You have to find him!” My pitch rises as the terror of that moment floods into me.
All he does is squint while Uncle Dixon takes my hand.
My stomach sinks. He isn’t the empathetic type.
“Oliver’s in surgery, Soph. He’s—” His square jaw clenches. “—lost a lot of blood.”
Yea, I know.
It was all over me.
“Is he going to live?” I don’t even want to ask.
He takes a long inhale. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “He’s strong and healthy. He’ll—”
The walls close in on me.
I can’t breathe as the devastation rips through me. Cupping my baby belly, all I can do is hope, for our sake he survives.
My wedding ring catches a reflection from the dim light of the curtained window, it still has specks of red.
Is this all I’ll have left of him?