TAVIAN

11.26.15

“Lyraaa!” I roar as I bolt off the porch and dash across the yard, forgetting to breathe in the process.

The world around me fades away as adrenaline surges through my veins, fueled by gut-wrenching fear and white-hot rage. In the blink of an eye, I’m on my knees by my wife’s side, frantically surveying the damage to her broken body. This can’t be fucking happening. Not now. We still have time left, damn it! I can’t lose her yet.

Folded in an awkward heap of tangled limbs in the freezing wet grass, she’s knocked out cold, but appears to be breathing. Halle-fucking-lujeh! She’s alive. We’ve still got a chance. I’m not letting her go that easy.

“Hey, buttercup, I’m here. I’ve got you,” I soothe, needing so fucking badly to be strong for her. “Stay with me, Lyra, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Afraid I’ll do more damage than good if I try to move her, especially if she has a neck injury, I gently brush the hair back from her face, revealing numerous scrapes and what looks like turf burn from forehead to jaw on the entire left side. Thankfully, none of the lacerations appear to be very deep, but the trickle of blood oozing from her nose scares me quite a bit.

The shoulder on that same left side, which must have taken the brunt of the blow when she landed, is clearly out of socket, and the arm attached has a gruesome fracture just below the elbow. Bile shoots up the back of my throat at the repulsive sight, and before I can stop it, the contents of my churning stomach end up on the ground next to me.

I spit out the nasty taste and wipe the back of my mouth with the sleeve of my coat then turn my attention back to Lyra, silently praying for her to open her eyes, for her to say something… anything. Never in my life have I felt so helpless. I need to save her; that’s my job. And I can’t.

“I tried to stop, Tavian. I swear I did. I changed my mind! I didn’t mean to hit her. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Annie sobs hysterically from behind me, and her voice flips a switch inside me. A switch that’s never been flipped before.

Blinded by all-consuming fury, I shoot to my feet and whip around to face her, causing her to stumble backward and nearly lose her footing. She tries to grab for me in steadying herself, but I push her away and laugh cruelly when she falls on her ass and starts crying harder.

“You changed your mind?” I thunder ferociously, standing over her like a looming monster ready to rip her to shreds. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, you crazy, stupid bitch? You ran my wife over with your car, and I’m supposed to think it’s okay, because you changed your goddamn mind, didn’t mean to hit her, and now you’re sorry? What the fuck is wrong with you, and why are you even here?”

“I-I-I came to apologize to you. I miss you. I miss you so much and wanted to tell you I’ll be here for you when she’s gone,” she blubbers through her tears. “And then… and then I saw her and thought…” Suddenly, her tears magically dry up and she pops her defiant chin up to stare me directly in the eye. “Wait a minute. Did you just say your wife? You married her, you asshole?”

My brain doesn’t even process what she says, because when our eyes meet, I hiss in a startled breath and my racing pulse slams to a dead stop. Holy shit. Her numbers. They’re back, same as before, brighter than ever.

Oh, God, no. Tell me this doesn’t mean….

I spin on my heels, completely ignoring Annie and whatever stupid shit is spewing from her mouth, and drop back down next to Lyra’s body, hopeful her same numbers will be back too to assure me I haven’t lost her yet. Carefully, I pry open one of her eyelids, but when I gaze into her pupils where the six-digit date should be, I can only see a black circle of vast nothingness, stealing all my hope.

Panicked, I search for a pulse in her neck and as soon as the faint throb vibrates against my fingertips, I screw my eyes shut and slump over Lyra’s frail, listless frame, wanting, if nothing else, for her to feel me close. To know she’s not alone. Annie continues to scream hateful things at me in the background, and I hear my mom attempt to silence her, but I pay them no mind. Nothing else matters without Lyra.

The next thing I know, a strong hand is tugging on my shoulder. “C’mon, sir. You need to move so we can help her,” an unfamiliar man’s voice barks in my ear. “The quicker we get her to Jefferson, the better. You can ride there with her in the front of the ambulance. Go wait for us near it.”

I jolt up and glance at the two men in paramedic attire squatting next to me and nod furiously once I realize what they’re asking me to do then scramble backward to make room for them to get to Lyra. Finally, help is here. They need to save her. They have to save her.

Staggering to my feet, I take a few seconds to survey the scene around me, all of which feels like a complete out-of-body experience. The bright red and blue flashing lights on the multiple squad cars and ambulance illuminate the entire block from the sinister darkness surrounding us. Ma and Sammy are huddled up talking to a couple of police officers, while at least a handful more men in uniform and a group of neighbors stand around and watch the paramedics transfer Lyra from the ground to a gurney.

Annie is gone. I have no idea where she is, but it’s probably for the best right now. Murdering someone in front of all these witnesses, primarily cops, wouldn’t bode well for me in court. And though I have full intentions to make sure she gets what she deserves for this, I’ll deal with her later. Lyra is my top priority.

Lyra is my everything. My eternity.

Acting on autopilot, I stalk out to the street toward Ma and the group of people she’s with, not giving a shit as I step in the middle of the circle and interrupt the officer who’s talking. They all have numbers again, and like Annie’s, Ma and Sammy’s are the same as before, so I can only assume everyone’s are.

Everyone’s, except Lyra’s.

“Get your keys and meet us at Jefferson University. I’m riding in the ambulance with her,” I tell my mom as she launches herself at me and buries her tear-stained face in my coat.

“I’m sorry, Mr. West. We need to finish asking your mom a few more questions first, and we have several for you as well before you can leave,” the cop says in a tone I don’t fucking appreciate one bit.

Releasing Ma, I whirl around and level him and his partners with a menacing glower that is wholeheartedly meant to be a threat. “That ambulance isn’t leaving without me in it,” I grit out through a clenched jaw, “so unless I’m under arrest for some reason, Officer, I’ll leave whenever the fuck I want. If you want my answers to your questions, you can meet me there, and I’ll talk to you after I find out what’s going on with my wife.”

I don’t wait for a reply from him or anyone else before I rush over to where they’re loading Lyra in the back of the ambulance. The sight of her battered and swollen face once again steals all the air from my lungs. She’s almost unrecognizable.

The door to the back closes and the paramedic from earlier jingles his keys in front of my face to break me from my trance. “Get in the front and buckle up. We’re about to haul ass.”

“How is she?” I ask breathlessly.

His sagging shoulders and grim expression speaks volumes. “Every minute is critical.”

I look at his numbers—123118—and nod, wishing he realized how true his own words are.

“Then, let’s go. Time is wasting.”

Dislocated shoulder and elbow.

Broken forearm and wrist.

Multiple cracked ribs.

Intracerebral hematoma and considerable brain swelling.

Immediate surgery.

Medically-induced coma.

Intensive care.

Critical condition.

Unknown timetable.

Questionable prognosis.

I hear the words, but I can’t wrap my head around them. And after waiting for hours that seemed like days while they evaluated and ran the full gamut of tests on Lyra, I’m left with more questions than I started with after the doctor updates us on her condition. Plus, they’ve had her in the back since we got here, and if I don’t see my wife really fucking soon, I’m going to lose my shit.

But I can’t. Not for a while. They’re already prepping her for surgery to drain some of the blood from her brain and hopefully decrease the pressure and swelling. The surgeon estimated the procedure will take somewhere between four to six hours and urged us to go get a bite to eat or some coffee. But there’s no way I’m leaving this waiting area until I know she’s safely out of the OR. Not a chance in hell.

“Sammy and I are gonna go down to the cafeteria for a little bit. This room has started closing in on us and we need a bit of fresh air,” Ma murmurs, softly touching my arm. “Do you wanna come with us?”

I shake my head but don’t look at her. I can’t tear my eyes from the double doors that lead to where Lyra is fighting for her life. “I’m not leaving.”

“Okay, honey. We’ll bring you something up when we come back.” She pats my shoulder, and I’m thankful she doesn’t push me. “Call me if you need me or if you get any kind of update. We shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“I will.”

Once they leave, I slump back in a chair and blow out a jagged breath. From the best Thanksgiving ever to the worst night of my life, the last four hours have left me drained and depleted. I will never be able to erase the image of Lyra’s body flying like a rag doll through the air and crashing to the ground, or how she looked completely bent and broken when I first got to her.

Soon after we arrived at the hospital, the police had me give my statement three different times to three different detectives, and all of them asked me to describe the scene in as much detail as possible. Saying the words aloud, admitting I thought she was dead, damn near destroyed me each time. But I was adamant to tell them everything I remembered, every word Annie said to me afterward, to make sure she can be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

The fact I used to love and live with that woman sends shivers down my spine. I have no idea who she’s become or what happened to the girl I met all those years ago, but the only feeling I harbor for her after tonight is pure hatred. She tried to kill Lyra, and I will never forgive her.

My mom and Sammy come back a while later and I eat whatever sandwich they bring for me, though I don’t taste a bite of it. They whisper quietly between each other as I sit and stare straight ahead. Going into energy preservation mode, my mind and body both shut down all elective functioning and I focus simply on the moment when the doctor returns with more news.

And finally, after the most agonizing wait of my life, the slim older man walks into the room still dressed in his scrubs and gives me a faint nod with a hopeful smile, just as the morning sun peeks through the blinds for the first time.

“She made it through the procedure and is currently stable,” he announces right away, thankfully not making us wait. “We’re going to keep her in a drug-induced coma to relieve as much pressure from the skull and brain as possible, and later today, we will do another CT scan to determine if we’ve stopped the bleeding and if the swelling has started to recede. The next twelve to twenty-four hours are crucial, and she’ll be under constant monitoring. I will keep you updated if anything changes.”

He moves to turn and leave, but I leap out of my chair and catch him by the elbow before he makes it two steps.

“Wait!” I exclaim, my voice hoarse and my tone desperate. “When can I see her? I need to see her.”

Glancing down at his watch, he thinks for a minute, and then says, “I’ll let just you, the husband, in with her for about five minutes now, even though it’s not quite time for morning visiting hours. But then I’m going to ask for no visitors until this evening’s time block from 6:00 to 9:00. Hopefully, by then, we’ll have some good news to tell you.”

I release his arm once I realize I’m still holding on to it and thank him for everything. A little bit of good news and no additional bad news… I’ll take it. And even better, I get to see her.

Now, I just need her date to come back. I’d do anything to see those six numbers again.