Wicked Liar by Faith Summers

Chapter Forty-Seven

Candace

I fall apart the second Tristan starts to resuscitate Dominic.

He’s not breathing.

Massimo is on the phone talking to the paramedics.

I’m trying to pull myself together, but I can’t. I don’t know what to do.

Dominic's life is slipping away from him. Away from me. I can't stop it.

“Kid. Fucking come on, breathe. Dom!” Tristan shouts, but Dominic isn’t breathing and there’s so much blood.

There’s just so much blood pouring out of his wound.

“They’re on their way,” Massimo says, joining us on the ground.

Tristan continues with his compressions and rescue breaths, but nothing is happening.

“Dominic, please,” I plead. “Please, come back.” My voice is so weak there’s barely a sound when I speak.

I remember when I was shot, it felt like I was being pulled out of my body. Then it got to a stage where I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Dominic's still not breathing. That means he's crossed that line and gone over to the shadows. All because he was trying to protect me, just like he said he would.

God, please...

He can’t die. He can’t.

I look at the beautiful man who loved me lying on the ground. He looks so lifeless, yet the strong presence of the boy I love is still there.

I can’t lose him. I can’t.

Tristan’s hands shake, and he shakes his head too.

“He’s….” A tear runs down Tristan’s cheek.

“No, don’t you dare say it. He’ll come back,” I wail.

“Candace.” Massimo tries to reach for me but I swat his hands away.

“No, leave me.” I move forward and take over from Tristan, pumping hard into Dominic’s chest.

Tears blind me, but I keep going. “Dominic, come back to me. You said you’d try. Try now.” I’m screaming and crying and trying, refusing to give up.

Too many minutes have gone by. I know that. But I can’t give up.

“My angel, come back to me,” I scream.

Energy fills me and one hard punch to his chest fueled with everything I have inside me makes him gasp for breath.

His breath comes out staggered, but it’s there.

He’s alive.

The paramedics come at that moment and take over. Dominic’s eyes open. He looks at me briefly then his eyes close. He’s then taken into the ambulance and we follow.

Everything seems to move slowly and I find myself in a waiting room of the hospital with the others while he has surgery.

We all stay and wait. Even Aiden stays with us. It’s morning before the surgeon comes out and the look on his face isn’t good.

“He’s in a coma. We’ve been hoping he’ll come out of it but only time can tell,” the surgeon explains. “We managed to get the bullet out. There’s no major damage to his organs. His body is in shock though.”

“Thank you doctor,” Massimo replies.

I bring my hands up to my cheeks and feel deflated.

When I was in a coma, I woke up the next day. Maybe that will happen for him too.

I pray and I hope, and I pray again and hope some more, but tomorrow comes and Dominic is still in a coma.

A week passes, then another. The third week goes by and I realize next week will be a month. We all visit daily. I barely leave his side.

I speak to him all the time because I know he can hear me. So I tell him I love him every day.

I know this can’t continue for much longer, so I plead with him every day to wake up and come back to me.

Friday comes and we have a few days before the end of the month. Everyone looks worse for wear. I’ve digressed to being that girl in the shadows again. This time I’m hiding in grief and pain, willing myself not to lose hope.

Massimo, Tristan, and I stand around Dominic’s bed starting the daily ritual. It’s a habit we developed where we talk to him first thing in the morning and hope the day will bring better results than the last.

Massimo always goes first. He’s gearing up to do that now, and today he has a saddened expression that weakens me.

“I missed you when you left. I can’t quite describe to anyone how much I missed you and worried myself sick,” Massimo says. I look at him. That’s the first time he’s shown so much emotion. “I understood why you had to go away, but I just wanted you to come back. I want you to come back now because I’m lost without you, little brother.”

“Me too,” Tristan says, then shakes his head. “Guys, I can’t do this today. I can’t. I’ll come back later.”

“Come, let’s take a walk,” Massimo suggests and they both leave.

I take Dominic's hand and decide to try for something different today. A different tactic.

“Dominic, it’s Friday. It’s still early in the morning, but your parents would be talking about what they’d be doing for date night,” I begin. Today I’m talking about memories. The good ones.

“Of course they had the music sorted, but they’d be talking about what they were actually going to do. Your mom would insist on cooking and your dad would make her think she came up with the idea herself. I’ll admit the woman could cook, better than my mom. She made lasagna better, and she’d give me an extra helping with cheese. But nobody could touch my mom when it came to baking. She was like the sugar fairy. We all used to love watching your parents dance on the porch. My best memories are of them dancing to that old jazz song. I can’t tell you how much they touched my life and how thinking of their love got me through some very dark times. Weeks ago, when we danced to that song, I could see it. The future. I saw the future. Me and you dancing, like your parents did. I love you like that and I want that magic. Only with you. You have to wake up. Please. Please.”

I bite down on my bottom lips so hard I break the skin. I’m trying not to cry again. I don't want to allow grief to weaken me today, but like Tristan, I don’t have the strength.

I stare at Dominic long and hard, shaking my head. He's not moving and I don't know if he will ever move again.

"Every time we have our chance, something happens," I say, speaking the words of my aching heart. "Something stops us. I never wanted to believe we weren't meant to be. I keep seeing myself with you. I keep seeing us together and we're happy. But maybe it's just my imagination. Not real."

My lips tremble and I break down, the tears coming hard. I hate crying in front of him, but I don't have the strength to get up and move away.

I’m crying so much I think I imagine the squeeze of his hand on mine too, the same way I conjured up that image of us in the future.

When he squeezes my hand again, though, my head jerks up to meet his beautiful blue eyes. They're open.

He’s awake!

Awake and looking at me.

“Dominic,” I gasp moving closer. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”

“Angel,” he breathes, squeezing my hand tighter. “You... and me were meant to be. I will never give up. Never.”

He heard me.

"You promise me?"

"I promise you, my angel." A weak smile spreads over his face.

"I promise you too, my angel."