FORTY-ONE
HAYDEN
MICHIGAN
MARCH
"I'm going to fucking kill you!”
The words are roared from my chest, from my soul, while my hands grip the steering wheel tightly and I swerve through traffic.
Ten minutes. I'm ten minutes away from Emerald.
Faster.
My foot presses down on the accelerator. Everything has gone quiet. The only sound I can focus on in this entire world is Rick's voice in my ear, laughing.
In my house.
With my wife.
Rick's voice comes through the phone again, taunting.
"Emerald's no fun. Let's play a game, Haymaker. It's called—can you get here before I put a bullet in your pretty little Emerald's head?"
My heart stops dead before stuttering to a start again and slamming against my ribcage. His words echo in my brain.
He has a gun.
He's in my house.
With my wife.
He has a gun.
The images in my mind are horrible. Fragmented pictures of all the different spots in our house that I'll find her in feel like stabs to my head. All of them have one ending—Emerald shot dead. Gone forever.
No.
After how hard she fought to survive in that snow, after everything that's happened to her.
"Tick-tock, hero."
The line goes dead, cutting off his laugh.
Nine minutes.
Another red light approaches. Without thinking, I swerve sharply around the line of stopped cars and race into the intersection, a horn blares from my side. Another car veers at the last moment to avoid me. I do not feel bad. I feel nothing except the need to get home.
Nothing else matters.
Nothing but Emerald.
Lights and sirens sound behind me. Looking into the rearview, I see a cop car trying to pull me over for running the red light. Good. I press harder on the accelerator.
Follow me home.
After a few blocks, the cop behind me starts getting aggressive, probably thinking I'm some asshole trying to turn Ann Arbor into a high-speed chase.
I keep flying through lights, grateful for the siren screaming at my back because it keeps cars from crossing and lets me tear through every intersection.
Six minutes away.
Every second hurts.
"Hold on, baby," I whisper, throat burning raw. "Hold on. Please. Please let me make it. Let me get to her."
The tormenting images of her death have ceased. It's like my heart has shoved my mind out of the way just long enough for me to function, to focus .
The only thing I can see now is Emerald.
My wife.
And, just like in that bathroom in that dive bar, I think of fate.
Of all the small and big, wonderful and miserable things that had to happen in my life for me to end up with her.
And how every single moment of misery was worth it.
My father never noticed my dyslexia. I failed English because of it. I needed a tutor because I failed. I met Emerald because I needed a tutor.
What if they assigned me to someone else?
What if Emerald hadn't been available?
What if—
What if I had never met Emerald?
The thought is like a kick to the throat.
My stomach twists just thinking about the life I would be living.
Dull, colorless, lifeless, consumed by hockey and rage and nothing else.
Still under Hal Sawyer's control. Weak. So fucking weak.
I would have turned into the exact kind of man that I hate. I would have been my father.
But Emerald had never met me; her life would be... safe.
All I've done is bring her trauma after trauma. All I've done is take and take, and ask for more. And she gives freely because she loves me.
She chooses me every single day of her life.
So, she can't die.
Not now.
Not like this.
Not before me.
I won't let it happen .
Rage swallows every feeling inside of me. I whip the car into the neighborhood and rocket down the street, the police cruiser still right on my ass. I jerk into the driveway, stopping behind Emerald's car, and the cruiser brakes hard behind me, blocking me in.
I shove the SUV into park, and my blood goes cold.
The front door has been kicked in.
My boots hammer up the front steps while the officer behind me bellows, "Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground—"
I don't stop.
I just roar the only thing that matters.
"My wife! My wife!"
I sprint through the door, but abruptly stop when I see the state of our home. Glass crunches under my boots from one of Emerald's vases that has been knocked over. There are drips of red on the hardwood that send fear up my spine.
Blood. Too much blood.
Emerald's?
Oh, God, no please..
A faint sound from the stairs to my right snaps my attention over. Lying on the steps is the source—his skin gray, his body violently shaking, blood soaking through his shirt from his chest. A horrible, wet gurgling noise escapes his mouth as he gasps for breath.
"Hal?" I whisper as I step toward him. My voice sounds so small, like a child's.
I drop to the step beside him. He shakes his head, then raises one blood-slick hand to point upstairs. At that moment, the officer rushes up behind me, already talking into her radio.
"Oh, fuck—one adult male shot, bleeding from the chest. Need backup and EMS now! "
Then I hear it.
Whack.
"Polo!"
Whack.
"Polo!"
Whack.
"Polo!"
My head snaps up.
Emerald.
Her voice— my wife's voice —is shrieking the word over and over in a tone so raw it sounds almost animal.
"Go... save her..." Hal rasps, staring straight into my face. The officer drops beside him and applies pressure to his wounds. His face pinches with pain, but he keeps his eyes on mine and forces the words out stronger. "Go, Hayden..."
Without hesitation, I bolt up the stairs toward the bedroom. I burst through the door, immediately noticing two small holes near the handle—bullet holes.
I stop dead in my tracks when I see Emerald.
"Polo!"
The hockey stick comes down hard on Rick's face, though it's barely a face anymore. His nose is crooked, almost flattened. His mouth is open, missing teeth in a bloody pile on the carpet next to him. More blood sprays as Emerald slams my stick down once more, and the noise it makes is wrong.
He's not moving. I don't even know if he's breathing.
My eyes go to my wife as she lifts the stick once more, shrieking through gritted teeth.
"Polo!"
I take one step toward her .
"Baby."
I don't shout. I keep my voice soft, but it slices through whatever has her in its grips. She whirls around with a growl, the bloody hockey stick raised, her teeth bared. She looks half-feral with blood splattered across her face.
It's the look on her face that makes me want to drop to my knees. Her eyes are enormous, pupils blown so wide the black has bled completely into the green. Her whole face is pulled taut with rage and anguish, and the corners of her mouth tremble like she's trying not to break apart.
My wife. My Emerald.
I need to bring her back.
"Baby, it's me—it's your Hayden," I say softly, holding my hands out in front of me and taking slow steps. "Emerald, it's just me..."
I keep my eyes on hers, not looking at the gore of Rick, the blood on her face and body.
I just look at my Emerald, love swelling violently in my chest. I take slow steps like she's a doe I don't want to startle, and keep my voice gentle.
"Can you put my stick down, baby?" I murmur. "It's okay. He’s done. He can't hurt you anymore."
Emerald jerks like being pulled from a nightmare and blinks. Her chest heaves violently. She blinks a couple more times, frowning like she's confused about where she is, eyes darting around the room.
She looks at the stick in her hands, dripping with Rick's blood, and then her gaze drops to the ground.
Pure horror flashes across her face.
"Oh..." she whimpers.
She sounds so scared, it shreds me open.
"No, baby, look at me—only me, Emerald... "
She lifts her gaze back to mine, the green I adore coming back to them.
"There you are," I whisper, smiling even as my throat burns. "There you are—my wife, my heart. I love you so much, Emerald. Do you hear me? You are the greatest joy of my life."
The lines in her face soften as I keep talking. Her breathing evens. Her bright eyes shimmer with tears. I watch her white-knuckled grip loosen until the hockey stick slips from her fingers and clatters to the floor.
"Hayden..." she whispers, before her body gives out.
Moving faster than I ever have, I catch her in my arms before she hits the ground. I gather Emerald into my lap and bury my face in her hair.
"Emerald, oh baby... my baby..." I murmur, pressing frantic kisses over her hair, her blood-spattered face, any place I can reach.
The coppery scent of blood is almost overwhelming, but all I smell, all I feel, all I see is my Emerald.
Relief floods my body, rushing through every vein, setting every nerve ending on fire.
Emerald's arms come up and wrap around me.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
The word matches the frantic beating of my pulse, of her heart.
I hang onto the word desperately, reassuring myself.
I kiss all over her face, holding her steady.
She chases my lips, connecting and clashing desperately, teeth clanking together, lips pressing so hard it's like we're trying to fuse into one.
"Hayden, Hayden, Hayden..." she murmurs between kisses, like she's trying to remind herself that I'm here.
"It's okay, baby—it's okay..."
Then she jerks back so suddenly, my whole body tenses with panic. "Hal! "
My eyes fall closed for a moment.
God, even now, she's just pure Emerald.
I nod once. "Can you stand, Emerald?"
She nods shakily. I pick her up off the floor, supporting her as we walk out to where the officer is pressing down on Hal's wounds.
My stomach clenches.
He looks too pale, his lips practically blue, his eyes glassy and... distant.
"Stay with me, Hal—EMS is on their way, stay with me—"
His eyes slide to Emerald and me as we step down toward him. Relief crosses his face, and he closes his eyes briefly, letting out an unsteady sigh.
"He helped save me," Emerald whispers, tears spilling over instantly as she sees him. She stammers through ragged breaths. "R-Rick was going to shoot me, and Hal grabbed him, and he stopped him, and he got shot, and he t-t-told me to run—"
I pull her closer to me, kissing her hair.
Hal saved Emerald. He allowed her to save herself. Hal got shot for Emerald.
Too many feelings hit at once, and I can't hold onto any of them.
The officer meets my eyes and gives the tiniest shake of her head.
My eyes close. I know what she's telling me.
He's not going to make it.
Emerald sees and steps forward on shaky legs, pulling me with her toward Hal. The officer doesn't move her hands, but she shifts enough to give us room. Emerald bends and meets Hal's eyes .
"Thank you," she whispers.
He looks at her for a moment and gives her a small grin.
"I'm sorry... Emerald..." he chokes out, gasping after every word.
Emerald smiles through tears and nods. "Apology accepted."
His lips quirk even more at that before my father's gaze finds mine.
He lifts a weak, trembling hand. I don't hesitate, taking it and squeezing. It's cold, his grip is barely there, but then—his fingers tighten, barely.
I stare at my dying father's face.
People always said that he created a clone of me. How much I look like him—my hair, my eyes, my height, and build. I didn't take on any of his personality; I only wore it in my worst moments, like a costume.
And now here he is, dying on my stairs because he saved my wife.
It doesn't undo the awful years, but it means something.
He gave everything for Emerald. For us. For me.
So I give him the one thing that I can in this moment.
"I forgive you," I tell him, my voice steady and strong because I need him to hear it before he goes. "I forgive you."
Hal squeezes my hand, harder this time, like he's using every bit of his strength left. His eyes brighten for a quick moment, and the smile on his face is the widest I have ever seen in my life.
Then his hand falls from mine.
And I know.
He's gone.
Emerald sobs and falls into my chest. My arms are already open and catching her, pulling her to me. Police sirens grow closer outside. Beside us, the officer keeps pressure on Hal's wounds even though she knows, and I know, that it doesn't matter anymore.
Love and grief blend together strangely in my chest.
I let it settle for now and just focus on what I can feel. My wife's body against mine. Her scent, her steady pulse beneath my fingertips as I cradle her face against me.
I feel Emerald alive and breathing.
"I love you," I whisper into her hair, pressing kisses there between each word. "I love you, Emerald. I love you."
"I love you," she chokes out, arms tightening around me. "Don't let me go, Hayden. Please..."
I press a firm kiss to her lips, murmuring a promise against them.
"Never."