Even from a distance, I know it’s her. I make a sharp left and jump from my motorcycle, letting it skid to a stop against the hard ground. I’m running to her when Cruise’s car tires grind against the gravel behind me. The seconds that tick by don’t give me enough time to process that Sara Jane, my Firefly, is lying on her side in a dark red lake of blood. My hands dig into my hair. My vision blurs except when I look at Nastas O’Hare. He knows he’s outnumbered and already has his hands up in surrender. What did he expect? He thought he would shoot Chad, Sara Jane, and then what? Not have me react with unfiltered anger? With Jason at my right and Cruise with his gun already aimed on him, I yell, “What the fuck?”
My gun is pulled from the back of my jeans without a second thought. O’Hare isn’t given a chance to beg before I shoot twice. Did he give her a chance to beg? Did he watch her plead for her life? His body slumps with his hands still in the air before falling face first into the dirt.
The gun falls from my hand as I drop to my knees before my sweet angel. “Firefly. Sara Jane. Stay with me.” I scoop her up, her body never feeling smaller. “Stay with me.”
She whispers, “Don’t cry, not over me.”
“Help me, Cruise,” I yell, looking for him. He’s kneeling next to Chad and he shakes his head.
That’s when I know. It’s too late to help him. “Fuck. Help her. Help her.”
My tears are fucking with my vision, blurring. Her body is so fragile like the firefly she was named after. “You’re gonna be okay, baby. I promise you.”
So light.
So pale.
So goddamn breakable.
I get us inside the car, and Jason shuts the door behind me. Our eyes only connect for a second through the glass, but it’s enough to make me wonder why he’s here. Cruise pops into the driver’s seat and takes off, leaving a dust cloud and Jason behind, along with my suspicions.
Sara Jane has her hand on my chest, her grip is light, but enough to keep me as close as I can. “You lied.” Her voice is meek, and I hate it. Her breath comes shallow, and there’s a soft gurgle in her throat, causing her to cough.
Angling her up so she doesn’t drown in blood, I can’t stop my tears from falling. Fuck Cruise and what he might think. Fuck O’Hare for doing this to her. Fuck the whole fucking world for trying to wipe away my universe, destroying me from the inside until there’s nothing left. I wrap my arms around her tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“No, you lied . . . first time we ever met.”
“What’d I lie about, baby?”
“You whispered . . . right in my ear. ‘I don’t need anything.’ You lied, Alexander. Because . . . you needed me.”
“I need you now. Stay with me, and I’ll never lie to you again.” I glance to Cruise.
“Alexander?”
“What, baby?” Sara Jane and I teeter that line of destruction, the one that straddles heaven and hell. I wish I could give her heaven. Instead, I gave her hell.
Memories of her lying on my bed cast in the dark, seep to the forefront of my mind. She deserved sunshine, but our lives became dust in the sunlight. Our souls, tortured demons that would soon evaporate. Do we exist beyond existing for each other? I don’t.
She whispers, “Tell me something happy.”
Her dying body lies in my arms and my truest and most selfish act comes flashing right back . . . “I can see the fight in your eyes. The decision to stay or leave wages a war. I won’t hurt you, Sara Jane.”
Why did I stop that day to see her? Why did I pursue the angel I knew I would ruin? I could never give her what she needed, the darkness of my shadow always drowning her. But I went after her anyway, not expecting more than a hi, but hoping for a lifetime with the girl who made me feel my heartbeat for the first time in weeks.
Sara Jane reminded me I was alive, I could live again, and I should. She gave me a reason, a purpose. She gave me everything. Anguish flows through me as I stare in to the indigo eyes I adore, watching them grow darker by the second and her lids growing heavier. The apples of her cheeks have lost their pink, and her slim fingers have loosened, giving up the fight to hold on to me.
My body shakes, my tears fall like rain on a stormy day. I want to give her summer, but all I can muster is the dead of winter. I touch her cheek, wiping away some blood slashed from the rocks, and say, “You gave me a reason to live when all I wanted to do was die.”
There’s strength in her voice when she replies, “Live for me.”
“There is no life without you, Firefly.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.” A tear falls streaking through a drop of her blood. I stroke her cheek, missing the feel of her softness under the hardness of my calloused fingers. She begins to shiver, her chin chattering.
I glance to Cruise and mouth, “Faster.” There’s no way I’m losing her. I can’t. “I love you. I’ll save you. I promise I’ll save you.”
“Let me go, Alexander.” She closes her eyes when all I want is to see them. “I’m tired.”
“Don’t go to sleep. Stay with me. Drive fucking faster, Cruise.”
The tips of her fingers reach for me and as if time slows, she runs them across my chin and along the side of my jaw. A small smile appears before her hand falls back to her body again. “Alexander.” My name is just a breath escaping her lips. “Let me go.”
“I promise I’ll get help. I’m never letting you go, Firefly.”
“I’m already gone.”
5
Alexander
The hour eludes me, and even the day. My minutes lost to Sara Jane, my compass broken, like her. Needing to be closer, to feel more of her warmth, I’ve angled my head against her shoulder, my cheek to her upper arm, and my hand low on her hip under the covers. The nurse came back once to check on her, but stayed to check on me. She’s since left us alone.
The Graysons were here for a while, but my presence unsettles them and they now wait down the hall. Their presence was unsettling to me, too. The hate from her father permeated the air like smog. I didn’t want Sara Jane to wake to the negativity, but I wasn’t going to tell him to go.
I didn’t tell them about the baby. I haven’t processed the loss myself to be able to watch others breakdown. I’m not sure what to do when it comes to them. Is it foolish to want to heal the wounds between us? For Firefly, I would. I’d forget about the comments and the anger her father is determined to take out on me. For her I would leave that behind and start new. I don’t think they can, but I’m willing to make this promise if it will bring her back to me, bring the light back to her eyes.
She’s expected to wake soon, but there are no guarantees or promises of what “soon” encompasses—could be an hour or ten.
As if she feels me willing her back, her fingers twitch and her arm moves, just slightly, but enough to notice. I catch sight of her lips parting and air filling her chest. Leaning over, I place my lips to hers, hoping to capture her escaping breath and breathe her deep within my lungs. When I’m kissed, my eyes squeeze tightly closed in a half-attempt to hold back the tears. Her breath becomes one word on the tip of her tongue. “Alexander.”
My name from her lips is a bandage to my broken soul. I’m careful with her, but I can’t keep from touching her. My fingers slip under the edge of her gown sleeve and I greedily caress her shoulder. “Firefly,” I whisper, my tears soaking the thin cotton.