Alibi by Nicole Edwards

Chapter Six

Gage was aware of sights, sounds, movement, but he was unable to move, barely able to breathe as he sat in the back of the ambulance, Kylie’s hand in his. The EMT was working, doing God only knew what as the other drove with obvious intent.

He answered questions when he was asked—What medications was Kylie taking? Any previous surgeries? Medical conditions?—not sure how he even knew the answers. His mind was fogged, his heart breaking as he leaned close to his wife, silently pleading for her to hang on. She hadn’t opened her eyes, hadn’t moved at all. He wasn’t even sure she was breathing on her own, but surely she was, right? They would’ve said something if she wasn’t.

The next thing Gage was aware of was pulling into the hospital, then people filing out, taking over, pushing the gurney while barking orders as the EMTs followed close behind.

Gage managed to keep up, never releasing Kylie’s hand. She looked so pale, so fragile, it pained him to think they were going to take her away even for a minute. He needed to be with her, to assure her she wasn’t alone.

“Sir, you’ll need to stay here,” one of the masked people told him. “We’ll let you know as soon as we have news.”

Gage shook his head, tried to go with her, but the hands pulling at him were strong. Too strong.

“They’ve got her. She’s in good hands.”

He knew he needed to hold it together, needed to comprehend what they were saying so he could relay the details to everyone else when they arrived. If he had to guess, Travis was right behind them. He prayed he was because Gage couldn’t do this alone. He needed Travis, needed his husband’s strength to keep him standing.

“Come on. This way.”

It wasn’t until Gage was halfway down the hall that he realized Reese was the one guiding him, Brantley right beside him, their dog leading the way.

“I didn’t believe you,” he whispered.

“What?” Reese guided him into a chair in a brightly lit room with people scattered throughout. “What did you say?”

Gage’s legs gave out, the seat coming up to meet his ass. “I didn’t believe you.”

When he looked up, both Brantley and Reese were frowning.

“I didn’t think she was still a threat,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I thought Travis was losin’ his mind. Overreactin’.”

Their expressions went blank immediately.

“It was her. Juliet Prince. She was the one who hit Kylie?”

Brantley’s face was full of sympathy. “We believe so, yes.”

“Where is she?” His eyes bounced back and forth between them. “Please tell me they caught her.”

It was on their faces. Juliet Prince was not in custody. She was not being processed for attempted murder.

“She fled the scene,” Reese answered, his tone smooth and low. “But we’ve got a license plate number, and there’s a BOLO out for the car. We’ll—”

“Where is she? Where is my wife?”

The voice boomed through the space, drawing the attention of everyone.

Gage was on his feet, moving toward Travis.

The instant Travis saw him, he was marching over, then his arms were around him, holding Gage together. He held on to Travis, inhaling his familiar scent, trying to absorb some of his strength, knowing he would need it.

Travis’s hand cradled the back of his head, holding firmly as they leaned on one another. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to assure Gage that Travis was there with him, that he was not in this alone.

When Travis released him, stepping back, Gage gripped Travis’s arm, feeling back in control of himself for the first time since leaving the park. “Come on. Let’s sit.”

“Where is she?” Travis demanded, stopping Gage when he tried to lead them away from the nurses’ station.

“They’ve taken her into surgery,” he explained, recalling only briefly what he’d been told.

“Surgery?” Travis frowned. “Why? For what?”

Honestly, Gage had no idea, and he didn’t want to lead Travis to believe otherwise.

“Let’s take a seat,” Curtis suggested, his voice low and commanding as he motioned them to the far side of the room.

“I don’t wanna sit,” Travis snapped. “I wanna see my wife.”

“You will,” Brantley said firmly. “Give them time to take care of her.”

Gage’s first instinct was to placate Travis, to tell him everything was going to be all right, that Kylie would be fine. He didn’t say any of those things. Probably because he had so many doubts himself. Fear, even now, threatened to choke him. It was likely exacerbated by the sheer terror he could see on Travis’s face. The man who was always strong and stoic looked anything but, and that scared the shit out of Gage.

Someone directed them to an empty corner of the room, offered coffee. They both refused but took their seats. Gage settled for sitting silently, his arm brushing Travis’s as they both remained perfectly still, staring at the doors that led to their wife.

Time moved slowly. Too slowly.

“How long has she been back there?” someone eventually asked.

“Not long,” someone else answered.

There were a few hushed whispers, maybe even a group praying softly. Gage barely heard them over the steady, painful thump of his heart as he sent up his own silent prayer, begging God to spare the most beautiful, the most vibrant woman he’d ever known.

Suddenly the doors opened and a man stepped out. Older man, pleasant face, serious eyes. Blue scrubs. He pulled off the face mask and the hair covering as he approached. It was in his movements, a sense of regret that had Gage’s heart squeezing.

“Walker family?”

No. Please no.

Gage got to his feet, shaking his head. It hadn’t been long enough. They hadn’t had her back there long enough to fix her broken, battered body.

“Is Kylie gonna be all right?” someone asked.

No.

Gage didn’t look away from the doctor. He saw the sorrow and remorse before he heard the words.

No, no, no.

And then the doctor said the words that would irrevocably change the world as they knew it.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”

*

Oh, Jesus. Fuck.

Travis tried to take a breath, but someone had replaced the oxygen with shards of glass that rattled around in his lungs, scraping him raw. The pain was unbearable. He could hear the godawful sounds coming out of his throat, but he was helpless to stop them.

God, no. This couldn’t be happening.

Travis stepped toward the doctor.

“We got her prepped for surgery,” the doctor was explaining, “and that was when we realized one of her ribs had pierced her aorta. There was nothing we could do.”

Before he realized what he was doing, Travis fisted the front of the doctor’s scrubs. “Go back in there,” he growled low in his throat. “Go back and fix her.”

A firm but gentle hand was on his. It was the doctor’s and he wasn’t attempting to push Travis off of him.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said softly.

Dead.

She couldn’t be dead.

No. Fuck, no.

Someone pried his hands off the doctor’s shirt, urged him back.

Not Kylie.

Travis stumbled, trying to breathe but it hurt.

It should’ve been him, not her. Travis would’ve given his life for hers in a second.

His body was racked with shudders as the sorrow tore through him. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

He stumbled back until he hit the wall, then slid to the floor, his legs unable to hold him up anymore. Tears flooded his eyes, made it impossible to see. He was aware of the people around him, moving, whispering, someone still talking to the doctor, others trying to console one another.

Didn’t they know it wouldn’t work?

Didn’t they realize that the light had vanished, that the heat from the sun no longer existed because Kylie was dead? Without her in it, the world would be a cold, dark place.

Travis was vaguely aware of guttural cries. It was enough to draw his attention to where Ethan and Beau were attempting to hold Gage up. Travis could feel his husband’s pain, but try as he might, he couldn’t muster the energy to console him. Not right now.

“Travis?”

He turned his attention to the man squatting down beside him.

“Reese and I will find her,” Brantley declared, his voice low and hard, his eyes glittering with rage. “We won’t stop until we do.”

Travis wanted to tell him he’d heard that before, that Brantley’s promises meant nothing. If they’d found her before now, Kylie wouldn’t be dead. If they’d found that bitch and put her in the ground, Travis’s world wouldn’t be flipped off its axis right now. His kids wouldn’t have to live out the rest of their days without their mother.

He didn’t say those things, though. He couldn’t. Right now, the coldness had frozen his vocal cords, made it impossible to speak, to feel, to move.

It was all he could do just to breathe.

*

Trey Walker stood on the periphery ofthe room, watching, listening.

He could feel the sadness, the heartbreak as it penetrated every person around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed something so tragic. They were lucky in that they didn’t experience loss often. The Walkers were strong, if not in body then in spirit. There were exceptions to the rule, of course, but most of the deaths he’d dealt with had been after the person had lived a long, fruitful life.

This was not one of those instances.

Kylie Walker hadn’t lived nearly long enough. She was far too young, just a few months older than Trey if he recalled correctly. Thirty-six years old. To have been taken like this … stolen from the world without warning, without a chance for anyone to say goodbye … it was heart-wrenching.

As he stood, Trey watched as family members hugged one another. Kaleb was holding his wife, Zoey, against his chest as she cried. Ethan and Beau were holding on to Gage, giving him as much support as they could. Kennedy was sitting in a chair, her head in her hands, a tissue clutched by her face. Sawyer was standing behind her, looking as though he didn’t quite believe what was happening. Brendon was on the phone, most likely calling his wife, Cheyenne, since she was currently on tour.

On the other side of the room, Braydon had his arms wrapped around Jessie, Kylie’s baby sister. She was hysterical, her sobs echoing as loudly as Gage’s. From here, Trey could see that Braydon was sobbing as much as his wife. Not far from them, Curtis was watching over everyone, his eyes sharp and clear, but his breaths were coming far too rapidly. He was on the verge of falling apart, but likely holding it together for everyone else.

And then there was Travis, sitting on the floor, alone, body jerking as he sobbed uncontrollably, head resting on his knees.

To think, there were so many more who hadn’t heard the news yet. The pain and sorrow were only beginning.

Trey couldn’t help but think this was their fault. If they’d only found Juliet Prince, they wouldn’t be here right now. The Walkers wouldn’t be suffering such a tragic, unfathomable loss.