Chapter Thirty-Nine
COLT
I’m being dragged away from Dee.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t hear or get to her.
I push and pull people out of my way, but more of the fuckers keep appearing out of nowhere.
Then I see her.
She’s crying, her face twisted in fear, and something inside me snaps. Rage—raw and blinding—explodes in my chest, hotter than I’ve ever felt before.
I have to get to her.
I have to do it now.
I push forward, throwing my entire weight into the crowd, shoving, ramming, roaring. My body slams into shoulders, elbows dig into my ribs, nails scratch at my arms, but I don’t stop.
She’s calling for me. I know she is. But her voice is swallowed by the chaos.
The sea of fans sways, crushing her in their madness. She’s tossed around like she doesn’t even matter.
Then I see it.
One of those bitches pushes her hard, and she stumbles, her footing lost.
She’s falling…
… toward the road.
“Dee!” Her name rips from my throat, raw and useless against the roar of the crowd.
She doesn’t hear me, she can’t. She’s disoriented, swallowed by the sea of people pressing forward, screaming, reaching.
I see her stumble, one hand reaching out for balance, the other clutching the ring I just slid onto her finger.
The same hand I kissed when I told her I loved her—for the first damn time.
And now she’s slipping beyond my reach.
The crush of bodies surges between us, an ocean of flashing lights and camera phones.
I shove, claw, curse, anything to get closer.
My heart’s hammering so hard it feels like it might crack a rib.
“Move! MOVE!” But they don’t hear me, not really.
All they see is the rockstar losing his shit, not the man watching his whole fucking world unravel.
Then—movement behind her.
Headlights.
A van, barreling through the chaos, horn blaring, tires screaming.
Fast. Too fucking fast.
“DEE!” I roar, but my voice disappears into the noise.
Everything slows—the kind of slow that’s cruel. My lungs seize. My legs won’t move fast enough, no matter how hard I push. Every step feels like I’m running underwater. I watch her turning, eyes wide, confused, framed in the harsh white light.
And then my heart stops with the impact.
The sound hits first, a collision that cracks through the air like thunder. Metal meets flesh. The world lurches as I watch Dee’s body fly through the air.
For one impossible heartbeat, she looks weightless, her hair catching the light, her arms flung wide like a broken angel. Then she hits the asphalt with a sickening thud that tears through me like shrapnel.
Screams explode. There are gasps and chaos. Someone drops their phone. Someone else starts crying. None of it feels real.
All I can see is the smear of red spreading across the pavement.
And then—God help me—something metallic from the van’s roof rack dislodges, spinning end over end before slicing through the air.
I watch, helpless as it slices straight through Dee’s stomach. Mine falling right through the pits of hell at the sound it makes.
A sound I will never forget.
A wet, final sort of sound that doesn’t belong in this world.
My knees almost give out. My stomach heaves. Bile scorches my throat.
“Dee… oh, fuck… DEE!” I shove harder, panic taking over, every rational thought burned away.
My boots slip on the pavement as I break free of the crowd.
My body feels disconnected, like I’m watching myself from above, a man tearing through the madness to reach what’s left of his heart lying broken on the road.
The van screeches to a stop, doors flying open, people shouting. I barely register it. All I can see is her—blood on her lips, eyes fluttering, her hand clutching that damn ring.
The one I gave her.
The one that should have meant forever.
Now it’s just a reminder that forever can be taken in the space between heartbeats.
Why am I so fucking slow?
I slide like a baseball player for home base into her side. The tubing is buried deep—too deep. Blood pools beneath her, seeping into the cracks of the road. Her right leg is twisted unnaturally. She’s shaking, her fingers clutching at the tube like she’s trying to pull it out herself.
“No. Don’t touch it. Don’t move, baby. Jesus! Dee, I’m right here.” My hands hover over her, afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse, but she’s so pale. Too pale. Sweat beads on her forehead, her lips tinged with blue.
“Call a fucking ambulance,” I bellow, my voice raw and vicious. My hands press against her face, cupping her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “C’mon, baby, don’t you dare leave me.”
Her lashes flutter, and when her eyes open, they’re glassy, unfocused, wet with tears.
“Hey. Hey, baby, don’t worry. Help is coming. Just hold on for me, okay?” My lips brush against hers, soft and desperate.
She shudders, her body weak beneath my touch. “Colt…” Her voice is barely a whisper, but her hand finds my cheek, her fingers trembling.
I grab her wrist, pressing her palm harder against my skin.
“Don’t talk. Save your strength. I love you.
I fucking love you so much. Why the fuck did I wait so long to tell you?
” My throat tightens, my breath ragged. “Dee, I’m an idiot.
But you’re going to be okay. You have to be, so hold on, baby. Hold on for me.”
Her breathing is changing… short. Shallow. Frantic.
No. No. No.
Not now.
Not yet.
Hold on, baby. Please, hold on.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head.
“No. Dee. Don’t you fucking dare,” I command, my voice rough as I grab her face, shaking her lightly.
Her eyelids flutter open, and for a second, relief punches me in the gut. I cradle her head in my arms, but that’s when I see it. Her treble clef necklace is lying in the blood, ripped clean from her neck. A symbol of us, broken. I snatch it up and squeeze it in my fist so tight my knuckles ache.
“Colt,” she breathes, voice barely a whisper. My chest constricts. Fuck, I’m losing it inside. “Until the end of time,” she says, then exhales—slow, too slow—her eyes sliding shut.
Panic explodes through me. “Dee? Dee, baby, open your eyes. Look at me, goddammit.” I shake my head, refusing to accept what’s happening. “No, no, no,” I mutter, searching—fuck knows for what—anything, someone, something to stop this.
Then, in the distance, I hear them. Sirens.
I press my forehead to hers, my breath shuddering. My hands tremble as I cup her face, then I kiss her, desperate for a response. A twitch, a sigh, anything.
But there’s nothing.
“Dee, help’s here, baby. Hold on,” I grit out as the ambulance screeches to a stop.
Paramedics rush in, concern etched on their faces.
“You have to help her,” I demand, my voice raw.
One of them starts working on her while another fumbles with medical equipment.
I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.
I don’t care. They just need to move faster.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? Just get her to the damn hospital!” My voice is pure rage, my hands balled into fists, her necklace digging into flesh.
“Sir, if you don’t calm down, we’ll have to ask you to step back,” one of them says sharply. “We’re stabilizing her before transport. Let us do our job.”
I glare at him, my hand flexing. I want to put my fist through his face, but Dee wouldn’t want that. So I grit my teeth, swallow the anger, and stay right where I am.
A monitor beeps.
“Okay, we’ve got a heartbeat,” one of them says.
I exhale, my body sagging for a split second.
She’s still fighting.
She’s still here.
“It’s weak, but we can move her,” the paramedic continues, signaling for the stretcher.
I lean in close, my fingers threading with hers. “It’s okay, baby. They’ve got you. Just stay with me, all right?”
She doesn’t answer.
The paramedics lift her, she lets out a pained moan, and it shreds through me like barbed wire.
“Fuck, be careful!” I snap, but they ignore me, working fast and loading her onto the ambulance. I don’t wait. I climb in, taking my seat beside her, my grip never leaving her hand.
The doors slam shut.
The siren wails.
She’s growing paler. Too pale.
Her breathing slows. Too slow.
The pole still juts from her abdomen.
The paramedic checks her vitals, his expression darkening. He listens to her chest, shakes his head, then glances at the monitor. The beeping is erratic, uneven.
No.
No, no, no.
Not now.
She can’t leave me. Not after everything. Not when I finally told her I love her.
“Dee, baby, c’mon,” I whisper, my thumb stroking over her ice-cold cheek. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll tell you every damn day, a thousand times over. Just don’t—” My voice catches. “Don’t go.” A tear slides down my cheek, landing on hers.
Then…
The monitor emits a long, piercing beep.
I jerk my head up.
A thin, flat line stares back at me.
No.
Oh, fuck.
She is leaving me.
TO BE CONTINUED
IN
HIS OBSESSION?