His eyelashes fluttered. “Beckett?”
The sweetest sound I’d ever heard was Colt’s voice at that moment. He was alive and able to speak. Thank you, God.
“Hey!” I hovered over his face, locking his head in place as his eyes opened. His right pupil was slightly larger than his left. Concussion. “Hey, don’t move, okay? I’m here.”
“Where am I?” he asked, his eyes scanning from left to right.
“You had a really bad fall, so you can’t move, okay? You might have hurt your neck. Mark is here with me, and the doc is on his way. Just don’t move your head.”
“Okay.” He winced. “I hurt.”
“I bet you do. Can you tell me where?”
His eyes shifted. “Everywhere.”
“Gotcha.” I looked down to where he was pinned. “Colt, can you wiggle your toes? Just your toes?”
“Yeah,” he said.
I looked up at Mark, who shook his head with a pursed mouth.
Don’t panic.
“Good job, bud. Can you do it again?” I hoped I sounded way calmer than I felt, because I was about to crawl out of my own skin.
“See? Toes are fine. They don’t even hurt,” Colt said with a little smile.
Mark shook his head again, and my soul crumpled into a little ball.
“Your legs don’t hurt?” I asked.
“No, just everything else.” His eyes started to drift shut.
“Colt. Colt!” I gripped his face. “You have to stay with me, okay? Wiggle your fingers.”
All ten wiggled. I can work with that.
“I’m tired. Is Emma okay?”
“She sure is, but she’s worried about you. You did great, Colt. You saved her.” I took his pulse again. Shit, it was faster and lighter.
“We protect smaller people,” he said with a weak smile. “I’m cold, Beckett. Is it cold?”
“Look under that rock. Is there blood?” I ordered Mark. I stripped out of my fleece jacket and draped it across Colt’s chest. “Better?”
Mark crouched down. “I can’t see. I bet we could get it off him.”
“We need to tourniquet it first. There’s every chance he’s got a crush injury. It’s been almost two hours, we can’t just lift it off him. There’s one in Havoc’s pack.”
“Shit, Beckett,” Mark said softly. “Blood.”
I grabbed the tourniquet and knelt next to Mark. Dark red blood oozed out from beneath the rock. “Where the hell is the helo? Tell them to get the basket here.”
“Rescue 9, this is Gutierrez and Gentry. What’s the status on getting that basket?”
“Gutierrez, this is Rescue 9. We’re inbound with a five-minute ETA.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. There was no better word in this moment.
I dug just beneath Colt’s thigh, enough to slip the tourniquet through, and then yanked it tight, securing it right above where the rock had him pinned.
“Don’t move it,” I warned Mark.
Then I knelt at Colt’s other side. His lips were blue, his skin pale, clammy, and cold. His pulse was fast and weak.
“Hey, bud, I got your bleeding stopped. You just gotta hold on for the helicopter, okay?”
He gave me a small smile. “I get to ride in a helicopter? Cool.”
“You do. Plus you’re kind of a hero. Everyone’s going to think you’re cool, but I’ll still think you’re the coolest,” I promised. “Anywhere else hurt?”
“No, nothing hurts.”
I froze. Shock. Bleeding out. We’d stopped the bleeding in his leg, but there had to be a secondary bleed, if not a dozen of them after that fall.
He’s hurt. I can feel it.
Twins. Just like he’d woken up when she had the infected PICC line.
“Okay, just keep talking to me, buddy.” I took my fleece off him and lifted his shirt. Deep purple bruising discolored the entire left side of his chest. His belly was swollen.
I sat back on my heels and put my head in my hands.
Ryan. You gotta help me here. Please.
“Where are we?” Colt asked, his voice soft.
I stood quickly and grabbed onto Mark’s arm. “He’s bleeding out internally. My guess is spleen, which means minutes. Run to the nearest place you can see the sky and pop smoke.”
He was the very picture of anguish as he looked at Colt, but he turned and ran.
I hit my knees beside Colt, and then I lay down next to him, curling my body around him. “I love you so much.”
He turned his head, and I didn’t yell at him about neck injuries. There was no point. “I love you, too, Beckett.” He opened his eyes, and I rested my forehead against his.
“I was thinking maybe we’d add that zip line to the tree house. What do you say?” I ran my fingers through his hair.
“Yeah. I think you should make it go into the lake. That would be cool, and Mom wouldn’t worry about falling so much.”
This was one fall we hadn’t seen coming.
Havoc whined, curling up next to Colt’s other side. She knew.
“You’re absolutely right.” I checked his pulse. So damn weak.
“I think I’m dying,” he whispered.
“You’re really hurt,” I said, my voice choking on the last word. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t want his last minutes to be spent in terror. There was nothing we could do at this point. I was going to lose him.
Ella. God, she needed to be here.
“It’s okay. Don’t be sad. Tell Mom and Maisie not to be sad, either.” He took several labored breaths. “I get to see Uncle Ryan.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest only rose and fell with his, my heart syncing to his frail rhythm.
“Just hold on, bud. There’s so much you haven’t done yet. There’s so much to do.”
He looked at me, love shining out of his eyes. “I got to have you. Just like a dad.”
Tears fell from my eyes, running down the side of my face to the earth below. “Oh, Colt. We were going to tell you. We were just waiting for Maisie to be okay, but I adopted you last year. You’ve had a dad for a while. One who loves you more than the moon and stars.”
His breaths came slower and slower, each one a Herculean effort, but he still managed a smile. “You’re my dad.”
“I’m your dad.”
“So this is what it feels like.” He reached over, his hand cold as he laid it against my cheek. “I love having a dad.”
“I love being your dad, Colt. You are the best little boy I could have ever been given. I’m so proud of you.” The words barely came out.
His eyes closed as another breath shuddered through him.
I heard the sound of rotors in the background.
“I’m a Gentry,” Colt said, managing to pry his eyes open again.
“You are. A Gentry and a MacKenzie. Always.”
“Always?” he asked.
“Always. I will always be your dad. No matter what. Nothing will change that.” Even death. My love for him would cross however far God took him.
“Colton Ryan MacKenzie-Gentry. I got everything I ever wanted.” His eyes closed, and his chest rose only half as high. CPR wouldn’t help, not when he didn’t have any blood to circulate.
“Me, too,” I told him, kissing his forehead.
“Tell Mom and Maisie I love them.” His words were slower, punctuated by partial breaths.
“I will. They love you so much. You have a mom, and a dad, and a sister who would do anything for you.”
“I love you, Dad,” he whispered.
“I love you, Colt.”
His chest rattled once more, and then his hand fell from my face as he faded.
“Colt?” I felt for the pulse that wasn’t there. “Colt! No!” I slid under him and sat up, cradling him in front of me, my arms wrapped around him as his head rolled back against my chest.
A primal scream ripped from my throat. Then another, until my body shook with sobs. Beside me, Havoc sat up and started to howl, the sound low and keening.
Take care of him, Ryan.
“Beckett,” Mark said softly. When I looked up, he was kneeling next to me, his eyes full of unshed tears. My eyes rhythmically blurred, then cleared.
“He’s gone.” My arms tightened around his little body.
“I know. You did everything you could.”
“I made him pinwheels this morning,” I said, running my hand over his soft hair. “He wanted extra cheese, and I gave it to him. I made him pinwheels.”
That was hours ago.
Hours.
And now he was gone.