“Muff, can you hear me?” The doors slam closed as we take cover in the Humvee and start to move.

Mark hovers over me. We continue to take fire but the protection of the vehicle allows us to get the hell out of here. Each bump in the road is pure agony. They drive frantically trying to get back to the base as one soldier radios in my injuries.

“He’s been shot three times. Get the HELO on standby!” Mark yells out to him as we take a sharp turn, causing me to shift.

“My fucking leg,” I cry out.

“Put your hand over your shoulder.” He presses my hand over the bullet wound, trying to force me to put pressure on it. “I have to deal with your leg, so you have to hold it.”

I try to hold on but I can’t feel my arms, every limb is heavy. My hand starts to slip. “I can’t—” I start to say.

“You don’t have a choice, you son of a bitch!” Mark yells in my face. “Shut the fuck up and hold on to your shoulder!”

Mark grabs a needle from the medic bag and injects something in my arm. Everything becomes foggy and numb. I’m so tired. The smell of sweat, blood, and fear filters through the Humvee.

Something slaps my face forcing me to open my eyes. “Eyes open, you fuckbag! Don’t close them!” Mark’s eyes are wide and focused. I feel my pants rip. “Muff, this is going to hurt,” he says calmly before he clamps his hand around the bullet hole in my leg, pushing down.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” I scream out as a hot fire spreads through my veins burning everything in its path.

The pain is taking over and I can’t fight the black.

He pushes again as my eyes fly open. “I told you. Keep. Your. Eyes. Open!” He turns to the driver. “Faster!” Mark ties something around my leg creating a tourniquet. His voice is harsh but I hear the undertone of fear. We both know this isn’t good. The blood loss, the multiple bullet wounds, and the fact that we’re not close enough to the base is the reality we face.

Mark rips open my shirt and sees the blood around my abdomen as his hands tremor in terror. My hand falls again and he positions himself to put pressure on my stomach and my shoulder.

“Be there in three,” the driver calls back to us.

“You have three minutes to tell me all the reasons I should keep you from bleeding out. You close your eyes, I’ll fucking push harder. Try me, motherfucker.” He grips my face making me focus on him.

“Tell her—”

“Not a chance. Tell me.”

“I love …” I pass out from the agony.

I awake to the constant stream of beeping behind me. Where am I? I feel something warm in my hand but I can’t open my eyes. The weights holding my eyelids closed are too heavy to lift. I hear mumbling and I swear it’s Catherine and Mark, but that wouldn’t make sense.

Attempting to get my limbs to cooperate, I try to lift my arms but they won’t move.

“Jackson …” I hear her call to me. “Please wake up. I don’t know if you can hear me, but God, I hope you can.”

Catherine.

She’s here.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out, clearly upset. “Mark called and I … I just … come back to me.” I hear her sob and the need to comfort her overwhelms me. I want to wake up and tell her it’s okay, but everything is locked. Every part of me is heavy and unwilling to cooperate.

“God, there’s so much to say. You have to be okay, because I c-can’t. I can’t live with knowing this w-was all we h-had.” Catherine’s voice tears through me. “I’d give anything to go back and never let you leave my house that night. I’d barricade you in my damn room. I-I’m so s-sorry, baby. Please be okay.”

She has nothing to be sorry for. I did this to her. I was a chickenshit. I created this doubt of how I feel about her because I chose to walk away. I didn’t want to destroy her, yet that’s all I’ve done.

“I wish I would’ve called you. Or come to you that night. Shit. But as soon as Mark called I came. I ran … to you, Jackson.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I love you and I’m here now. I just want to see you open your eyes, baby. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your eyes. I miss your smile, and your voice. I miss you being an ass, and being charming. I miss it all. Please, Jackson. Wake up, dammit!” she begs and sobs.

The sounds of her cries echo in the room. Each hiccup guts me. I can’t speak. Hell, I don’t know how long I’ve been out for. I’m obviously alive, but am I really? If this is death—I’m being robbed. There’s no white light or anyone calling me to another side. I’m lying here. Trapped in my own body, listening to people around me.

“Cat, come on. You need to sleep. It’s been two days and you haven’t moved.” I hear Mark’s voice. “He’ll wake up. He’s too much of a dickhead to die.” He laughs and her half laugh makes my heartbeat accelerate. The monitor beeps louder and they both stop talking.

This is complete bullshit.

“It’s been a while, Mark. Plus, I don’t know if I …” She trails off sounding hurt. Fucking eyes—open! “The doctors said his leg is in bad shape. What if he has to have another surgery? He barely made it out of the last one.”

“He’ll be fine. Remember who we’re talking about. Trust me, he’s been through worse than this. He’s just going to make us all suffer for a while,” Mark says, trying to reassure her.

“What if he doesn’t want me here?”

I shouldn’t have left, but I couldn’t stop. Rage consumed every part of me. My failure was all I could see. Catherine would be next and I will not allow it. I’ll break myself apart before I let anything happen to anyone else.

“Listen, Kitty, he wants you here. I know you guys haven’t been together that long, but he cares. I wouldn’t have called you and gone through the red tape if I wasn’t sure what you mean to him.”

“You weren’t there that night.” Her voice cracks and so does my heart.

“You have to understand him—he’s an idiot. A big, giant, fucking moron.”

Catherine’s soft laugh stops her sniffles.

“I’d bet on him, Cat. He’ll wake up.” Mark is comforting her and I’m here helpless. I hear her muffled sobs and each part of me tears open—I hate hurting her.

I feel something against my bedside. It’s torture to hear and know what’s going on but not be able to talk or move.

Mark begins to speak in the distance. “I think you should get some rest at the hotel. Ashton leaves today, you could go with her—”

“No! Not even an option.” I feel her hands touch my hair and guide it to the side. “I’ll go to the airport to drop her off, but I’m not leaving until he wakes. And if he wants me to leave … I’ll … well, I don’t know, but I’m not leaving until he throws me out.” She sounds strong and sure.

I try again to open my eyes, give her a sign that I’m alive. But they won’t budge. Fuck this. I’m going back to sleep. Then I can stop feeling so weak.

I listen to the beeping, counting each one as my mind replays the shooting. Remembering the feeling of metal shredding my skin, the smell of death in the HELO, the blood staining my clothes and skin. I have no idea how bad my injuries are.