Chapter 54 Hannah
HANNAH
“Shots fired on scene, I repeat, shots fired on scene. Officer down.”
My heart plummets with fear as the dispatcher gives us more information. They don’t announce who the officer is, but somehow, I know. It’s Thomas. Something in my gut is telling me that it is.
Miles glances over at me from the driver's seat, an understanding look on his face.
“I’m fine,” I reply, adjusting my position in my seat. It’s not like I can call or text him right now to be sure.
“Hannah,” Miles says my name, and he must have the same feeling I do.
“Miles, I’m fine. Are we cleared to arrive on scene?”
He nods, accelerating the rig. We were already heading toward the scene for the possible overdose, but now, we’re heading there for another reason.
I take a deep breath and the street comes into view, willing my heart to stop pounding, and my mind to manifest that it’s not him. It can’t be him. I just got him, I can’t lose him now.
As soon as the bus is in park, I’m grabbing my bag and running toward the backyard, not caring about my safety. I have to get to him.
I fling open the gate, and what greets me will always and forever be engrained into my memory.
Multiple people are lying on the grass, some dead, some being tended to by one of the many officers on scene. A few are being handcuffed and led toward the gate, but I can only focus on finding him.
When I do, the breath is knocked out of my lungs. Thomas is lying on the grass with Officer Young holding firmly to his right leg. Blood is seeping through the white gauze. I run toward them, dropping myself onto the ground and grabbing more gauze as fast as my fingers can move.
“Is this the only wound?” I ask Officer Young as I take over, my gloved hands pressing down on his leg.
“Yes. No exit wound that we can tell. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Is he breathing?” I ask. I can’t look at his face. If I look at his face, I’ll break.
“Yes, breathing has been steady. ”
I nod, focusing on his leg. Miles drops down beside me, hooking him up to the monitors and checking his pulse. “Hannah,” he mutters my name, trying not to bring much attention to me.
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth, even as a tear slides down my cheek.
“You’re not fine.”
“If you try and take me away from him right now, I won’t be fine.
Right now? I’m fine. We need to keep him alive.
I need him, Miles.” My tone is sharp, and I’ve never spoken to Miles like this before, but I don’t care.
The man that I love has been shot and is lying unconscious on the ground in front of me as I tend to his bullet wound.
That’s more important than anything else.
Only once Thomas is hooked up to the monitor and I see the physical evidence of his heart beating do I take a full breath.
Miles starts an IV and pushes some medication since I’m still holding pressure.
I let go for a moment so we can get him onto the stretcher.
We make our way to the rig, and Miles glances at me as I climb in with him, keeping pressure on the wound.
The bleeding has slowed, but only a little.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” he asks.
For what seems like the hundredth time, I repeat, “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
Miles sighs, slamming the doors shut behind me and a moment later, the rig starts moving.
Using my free hand, I reach up to grab some shears to cut the leg of his pants off, knowing the hospital will need the access. With the bottom of his pants gone, I can get a better look at it.
The wound has mercifully slowed bleeding, but I keep pressure on it.
Only now that it has slowed do I allow myself to look at his face.
Glancing up his body, I notice the boxers that he’s wearing.
Iron Man is plastered on the front, and my heart drops.
Why is he wearing these today? I thought he only wore his superhero boxers on days he is manifesting something good, or needs luck?
I take a deep breath, knowing that he does need luck today. He has to survive this.
I take in his beautiful face as I continue to look over his body, checking for any other injuries we may have missed. He’s so pale that he looks dead, but the sight of his chest rising and falling with each breath helps me acknowledge the fact that he’s still with me.
Tears haven’t stopped falling from my eyes since the moment I saw him, but now, they’re in the way.
I angrily swat them away, irritated that they’re impinging on my view of him.
“You can’t die,” I murmur, putting pressure on the wound again with both hands.
“I can’t live without you, Thomas Cunningham. You hear me?”
I know he’s unconscious, but it doesn’t stop the words from tumbling from my lips.
“You came into my life when I least expected it and made it so easy to fall in love with you. You made my life better than I could have ever imagined, and now I need you. I need you in ways I never thought. I was doing fine on my own, but then you made me realize how good life could be.” I swallow down a sob.
“I love you, and I need you to be okay, Thomas. I love you so much, okay?”
A groan pulls me out of my mumbled proclamation.
“Hey, freckles,” Thomas says, his voice quiet and hoarse. His hand reaches up and presses gently on my arm. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” I respond, staring into those familiar blue eyes. “You were shot, Thomas. You’ve lost so much blood.”
He nods, groaning again. “Yeah, I’m not feeling too good.”
I bite back the sarcastic comment on my tongue. “We’re almost to the hospital and they’ll get you taken care of there. There’s no exit wound, so you’ll probably need surgery.”
Thomas doesn’t acknowledge his possible need for surgery, instead saying my name. “Hannah.” His voice is slurring, and his eyes are hazy, drooping closed. He’s falling unconscious again. “Did you say that you loved me?”
His eyes fall shut as the words leave his lips.
I’d panic, but I know that the combination of blood loss and medication he received is why he can’t stay awake.
I take a deep breath. I didn’t want to tell him I love him this way.
I wanted it to be a sweet moment between the two of us, and now, it’s ruined.
Maybe his superhero boxers are bad luck now.
The rig slows to a stop in front of the hospital and Miles climbs out, opening the back doors.
We pull the stretcher out and I keep pressure on his leg.
The nurses meet us in the ambulance bay as I tell them about the GSW, and his vitals.
I let them know that he regained consciousness briefly before passing out again about five minutes ago.
I switch hands with one of the nurses, watching as they wheel the man I love away from me.
I can’t follow them, I can only watch in disdain.
My shirt, hands and arms are covered in Thomas’s blood, so I head over to the sink, tossing away my dirty gloves and washing up.
My hands begin to shake as the cold water turns red as it runs down my fingertips.
Miles comes up behind me, patting my shoulder. “You did good. I’m sure he will be in surgery for a bit, but why don’t you call his family.”
“Oh god,” I murmur, my stomach turning. The thought of telling his mom that her son was shot is enough to make me sick. But I have to. Miles leads me to the front desk where I let them know that I’ll be contacting his family.
Miles calls our boss, letting him know what happened, and that I won’t be able to work the rest of my shift.
I sit down in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, pulling my phone from my pocket. With a deep breath, I open up my contacts, and find his mom’s number. Miles rubs my shoulders again. “I’m going to make sure someone brings Arson here,” he says.
“Oh my god, Arson,” I cry, looking around the room as if he will suddenly appear. “Was he there? Did he get hurt, too?” My voice cracks in fear.
“I’m sure he’s fine. I didn’t see him at the scene, so he was probably still in the back of Thomas’s car. I’ll take care of him, and bring him here if I can.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. Miles leaves me alone to call Nikki.
I press the button to call her and bring the phone up to my ear, ignoring the pounding in my chest. Thank god we exchanged phone numbers at the most recent Sunday brunch.
Nikki thankfully answers right away. “Hi, Hannah, how are you?”
I clear my throat of the lump that’s forming. “Hi, Nikki.” My voice cracks, and tears slip down my cheeks again.
“What happened?” she immediately asks, her earlier pleasant tone replaced with fear.
“Thomas got shot,” I say. “He went to a scene and they were ambushed and he was shot in his thigh. I think they’re going to bring him back to surgery, but you need to come.”
“Oh my god,” she cries. I can hear Thomas’s dad in the background, questioning her and comforting her all at once.
He takes the phone from her. “Hello?” he asks, his voice wary.
“It’s Hannah.” I don’t give him time to reply before I continue. “Thomas was shot in the leg. They’re taking him back to surgery soon.”
“Fuck,” he curses, “We’ll be there as soon as possible. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice shaking. Am I okay? Physically, yes. Mentally… yeah, probably not.
We hang up, and without thought, I’m calling my sister.
“Hey Banana, I thought you were working?” she answers.
“Thomas was shot,” I blurt, the sobs breaking free.
“What?” she screeches, already yelling at Tiff in the background to get the keys. “Hannah, what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m not hurt,” I reply. “He was on scene and got shot in the thigh. He needs surgery, and he lost a lot of blood.”
“Breathe, Hannah,” Julia says, and I take a long inhale. “He wasn’t shot in the chest or anything?”
“No,” I reply. “But he lost so much blood, Julia.”
“They will give him a transfusion while they try and save his leg.”
“I told him I loved him,” I say with a heavy exhale.
“You did? When?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “He was passed out, and I was trying to stop the bleeding and it all kinda slipped out. Then I think he woke up and caught the end of it.”
“But you love him?”
I hiccup a sob and nod, words unable to leave my mouth.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Julia replies. “We will be there in an hour. Does his family know?”
“Yes,” I croak. “I talked to his parents, they’ll be here soon.”
“Good. He’s going to be okay, Hannah.”
“You don’t know that,” I reply. “I need him, Julia. I love him.”
“I know you do.”
She hangs up, leaving me alone in this cold hospital waiting room.
It’s weird being on this side of things.
Being the one waiting to hear information about their loved one.
I don’t like it. The door to my right bursts open and Nikki and Richard rush in.
Nikki’s face is red with tears streaming down her cheeks as she takes me in.
I’m surely a mess, covered in her son's blood.
“Have you heard anything?” she asks, sitting by my side and pulling me into her. I relax into her touch, needing the contact right now.
“No. I’m not family, so they couldn’t tell me anything.”
Richard frowns as he steps away, heading toward the front desk.
“Do you know what happened?” Nikki asks.
I shake my head. “All I know is that we were called out for an overdose, and then we got the call that there were shots fired with an officer down. I knew somehow that it was him. We got there and I saw that I was right.”
“Oh honey,” Nikki croons, pulling me into her.
Richard comes back a few moments later. “They did a CT scan and he’s in surgery, but doing well. They’re giving him a blood transfusion to help with the blood loss.”
“Thank you,” I say. Nikki reaches out, taking her husband's hand as the door opens, more of Thomas’s family running in.
Beau is first, one twin in his arm, while Marley holds the other. They rush over, firing off questions. Nikki and Richard fill them in, while I sink back into the chair, slowly numbing to the world around me.
He has to be okay.