Fragile Lives: A small-town, age-gap, brother’s best friend romance (Little Hope series Book 4)

He falls to the ground.

In front of me.

I can’t breathe.

But I have no wounds. No nothing. And I still can’t breathe.

I look at Stephan, his body still half on top of me. I try to carefully flip him onto his back, and my heart suddenly stops beating when I see blood spreading from under his back. That’s why I can’t breathe. He’s hurt.

He’s hurt!

I get myself together and kneel next to him, pulling his head onto my lap. He opens his heavy eyes.

“Stephan, please, baby. Stay with me,” I whisper to him. “Please.”

“Are—” he coughs blood, “you okay?”

“I’m okay.” I try not to cry. Not now. “You saved me.”

“And he—” He can’t finish the question, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

I nervously look around, only now remembering that the shooter might still be around. I pull my body on top of his, and he tries to push me away. But he has no energy left, so his hands drop quickly, and he loses consciousness. I bring my shaking hand to his nose, hoping to feel him breathing. It’s barely there, but there. I let out a relieved sigh.

Then I go back to my task of finding the shooter, still shielding him with my body. Now that he can’t fight me, I can cover him all I want.

And then I see the shooter. On the ground, and Jake, the local ex-cop and Justin’s brother, pushing the gun out of his hand with his foot. He crouches next to him and presses his fingers to his neck. His face sharpens as he rises to his feet and jogs toward us, pulling his phone out on the way.

“We need an ambulance at the corner of Main Street and Eighth. A civilian has been shot. Two bullet wounds. The suspect is down.” Then he mumbles something else and hangs up.

Stephan coughs again, and more blood spills out. His breathing slows.

Just as mine does.

“How is he?” Jake croaks as he crouches next to me.

I shake my head, blinking away the tears.

Jake unzips Stephan’s jacket and checks his wounds. His face darkens the more he sees. Tears start streaming down my face, and I grab onto Stephan, scared of what Jake will say.

“Two exit wounds.”

“It’s good, right?” I ask hopefully. “They’re not stuck inside, right?”

He glances at me but doesn’t say anything.

Suddenly Stephan lets out a loud breath, and his whole body shudders. He opens his eyes, and I feel relief because they’re clear. Hope blossoms in my chest.

“I—” he swallows thickly, “love you, Lei.”

A beautiful smile stretches across his face, and a waterfall of tears start running down my face.

And then he sighs deeply.

And stops breathing.

“Stephan?” I call out. “Archie?” Maybe he likes that name better, but just never told me that.

“Stephan!” I cry out louder. “Do you hear me? Stephan!” I yell and start shaking him so he wakes up.

“Leila, stop.” Jake calls me, but I refuse to hear him. “Leila!” he barks again when I don’t stop shaking Stephan’s shoulders.

“Leila!” He grabs my forearm, pulling me away, and barks an order, “Move!”

I blink rapidly, trying to comprehend why he’s asking me to move. Why he’s asking me to leave? Why doesn’t he let me spend these last moments with him? I’ll die after anyway. I don’t want to live without him.

“Leila, fuckin’ move!”

He pushes me away, and I fall on my ass. He stands on his knees next to Stephan, takes off his jacket and arranges it under Stephan’s head so it’s a little higher than it was before. Then he starts doing CPR. He keeps pushing on his chest a few times and then blows air into his mouth. With every breath, Stephan’s chest expands, and then Jake goes back to pushing on his chest.

And I’m just sitting here, useless, while the love of my life is dying.

Dead. He is dead.

Stephan is dead.

I begin comprehending what just happened.

The slow feeling of dread descends upon my head and moves down my body, settling deep in my belly. My heart begins aching, and my chest is getting squeezed by an invisible force. I try to take a breath and can’t. Just like Stephan can’t. The crimson line from the side of his mouth drips down to his cheek. His eyes closed.

And I will never see them again. Never.

A sob erupts from deep within me. And then another.

The pain is unbearable, and all I want right now is to die with him.

I finally fully understand how he felt all this time. When the desire to live dies along with the people you loved the most. That’s how I feel. I need him to breathe.

I need him to.

Because if he doesn’t wake up, that’s it. I’m done too. So, I pull myself together and move toward Jake.

“Jake. What can I do?”

“Call fucking nine-one-one and tell them to hurry the fuck up.” The words are rushed out of his mouth while he’s pushing on Stephan’s chest.

I crawl to my purse and fetch the phone. Right as I’m dialing the digits, Stephan’s back arches from the ground, and he takes a loud, shuttering breath. Jake instantly pulls his torso up and presses the jacket from the ground to the wounds on his back.

My hands are shaking. I drop the phone and begin touching Stephan’s face.

“You’re back,” I whisper. “Back. Please, stay.” I start peppering his face with kisses. “Please, Stephan, stay with me. I can’t live without you.”

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” my phone reminds that I managed to dial for help.

“It’s officer…” Then he stops abruptly and curses, “Fuck. It’s Jake Attleborough. We have a civilian shot, and we need a fucking ambulance at the corner Main and Eighth Street. Or he’s going to die.” Jake’s voice turns authoritative.

“The ETA is two minutes.”

“Tell them to make it one, or he won’t make it.”

The phone clicks, but the line remains open. The voice comes back. “They’ll be there in a minute. I’ll stay on the line.”

I keep kissing every inch of Stephan’s skin I can get. Trying to imprint his taste in me. I’m touching his cheeks and forehead. He’s sweating despite the cold weather, his breathing uneven. He’s fighting to keep his eyes open, and I know the moments I’m getting with him might be the last I’ll ever have.

The siren sounds ahead, rapidly moving toward us. Once the vehicle stops next to us, two paramedics rush out and run toward us. They check Stephan while Jake’s repeating the events of the last few minutes to them.

One of the medics places a huge needle between Stephan’s ribs while another tapes the wounds. Then they place a mask with a breathing bag over his mouth.

Another siren sounds nearby, and a few moments later the sheriff’s cruiser stops next to us. Kenneth jumps out of his car and rushes toward us just as the paramedics load Stephan onto a stretcher and start moving him to the ambulance.

“Leila! Are you alright?” Kenneth’s voice hitches as he stops next to us.

“I am,” I answer quietly. “Stephan covered me with his body.”

Kenneth’s eyes move at Stephan, and they sadden when he sees the condition he’s in. He was conscious only for a bit right after Jake performed CPR, and now he’s out.

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you. Let her go with him,” Jake says, and Kenneth moves his confused gaze toward him as if noticing his presence just now.

“Jake?” He sounds surprised.

Jake nods. “I saw everything.”

“Where is the suspect?” Kenneth searches around.

“There.” Jake points to the bush where the shooter was hiding.

“Alive?”

Jake shakes his head.

“You got a weapon on you?”

“The state of Maine deemed me sane enough for that,” he answers defensively, and I can’t deal with that now.

“I’m just asking, Jake.” He switches his attention to me. “I need to stay here. Will you be okay until mom comes to the hospital?”

“I’ll be fine when he wakes up,” I reply automatically and climb inside the ambulance.

“I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

One of the paramedics starts the IV while the other asks me, “Miss? Are you family?”

“Yes.” I stare at him, daring him to say otherwise.

“Alright.” He nods. “The nearest hospital that can handle this type of wound is forty minutes away, and we don’t have resources to deliver him faster or to a better hospital. So be prepared.”

I nod and pull my phone out of my pocket, grateful that I told myself to stick it back in my pocket before. Finding the right contact, I hit ‘dial.’

“Are you okay?” A familiar male voice asks.

“He was already there when you called.”

“Fuck.”

“My fiancé was shot.” A little white lie to speed up the process. “And I want to ask for a favor.”

A deal with the devil would never feel more justified than right now.

“Done.” His voice turns serious as usual when he feels the situation is not to joke about. “What do you need?”

“I need a chopper to meet us on the road not far from Little Hope and fly us to the largest nearest hospital.”

“When do you need the chopper?”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Hmm.” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll call you back.”

I drop the phone on my lap and squeeze Stephan’s hand. Feeling curious stares on me, I look around to find both paramedics looking at me with wide eyes.

My phone rings and I hit ‘accept’ and transfer it to the speaker without dropping Stephan’s hand. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave his side now.

“I pinged your phone. Keep driving. The chopper will meet you down the road in about ten minutes. There is a big opening in about two and a half miles. I found someone already in the air; they’re on the way.”

“Thank you,” I say, relieved.

“Good luck, little Leila.”

The phone goes dead, and I look up to find even more surprised stares on me.

“Do you know what we could do with those types of resources?”

“I know,” I answer and move Stephan’s hair out of his eyes.

One of the guys explains the instructions to the driver, and in about two miles, the sound of a chopper sounds nearby. As promised, it’s waiting for us at the large opening on the hill. They transfer Stephan inside, and one of the paramedics jumps in the helicopter with us.

When we’re are at the hospital ten minutes later, a huge team of medical staff is waiting for us on the roof. They all come close when it’s time to transfer Stephan to the bed they brought with them.

“Hey. You must be Leila?” A tall gentleman with a kind smile and full head of starch white hair addresses me.

“Yes?”

“I’m Doctor Liberman. You must have friends in high places if I’m here right now, specially taking me away from lunch with my wife.” His eyebrow quirks up as we all move toward the elevator. Well, the two of us are moving slowly, but the rest of the team is rushing. I made a move to go with them, but they quickly stopped me and directed me to Dr. Liberman’s side.

“I’m sorry,” I reply automatically, not feeling an ounce of remorse.

“I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you.”

He disappears inside the elevator with the team, and I stay on the roof.

A hand lands on my shoulder and gently nudges me toward the elevator. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you to the surgery room.”

I turn my face to find the same paramedic. “Do you know this place?”

“Yes.” The doors open, and we walk inside. Then he presses a button. “It’s a very good hospital, and they have a good trauma center here. And you scored Liberman.” He chuckles.

“Is he good?”

“One of the best surgeons on the coast. Also, one of the biggest assholes.”

I let myself smile. “I’m okay with that as long as he makes Stephan live.”

“If anyone can save him, it’s him.”

I feel a little better and lean my back against the wall, waiting for our floor. My phone pings, and I pull it out. The message is from the devil himself:

It was free of charge. It was a fuck up on my end. I owe you one. Good luck.

I figured it’s because of him, the devil, that we’ve got the best surgeon. I don’t know how he managed it in such a short period of time, but he did, and I’ll be forever grateful. However long it is.

He called me right before the shooting to tell that his sources were wrong, and the man I wrote an article about was roaming free. It was him stalking me this whole time. My article ruined his life, took away his business and his family, and he came to Little Hope to make me pay. The man on the phone sounded so remorseful and so pained for dragging me into that, because he was part of that article too, just on the other side of it. A good one, for a change…But it was too late. No amount of remorse will help Stephan now.

The surgery goes on for hours and hours, and I’ve had a few nervous breakdowns by now.

Once I took my spot by the door, I answered my family group text, as my whole family has been bombarding me with texts, and let them know where I am.

A couple hours later, Kenneth and Jake storm the hallway and never leave my side.

Then mom and dad arrive almost at the same time as Freya, Alex, Kayla, and Justin. Aiden texted me that he was coming too, but his car got stuck in the snow. Mark and Alicia came about thirty minutes after my parents. They all took turns sitting next to me. Some of them probably wanted to take my right too, but Kenneth planted himself in the chair there and didn’t leave my side for a moment. I glance at him from time to time, getting the feeling that he got closer with Stephan than even Alex was. His arms are crossed over his chest and his brows are furrowed as he stares ahead without seeing anything.

More hours go by, and still, nothing.

When I can’t take it anymore, feeling my body begin to shut down with every passing second, a big hand wraps around my shoulders and pulls me into a warm brotherly hug so I can let myself go.

And I cry. And cry and cry. I don’t think I can stop at this point, letting all the fears out. Fear of never seeing him again. Fear of never touching him again. Fear of not being able to tell him over and over again how much I love him and how much he became a part of me, and how dull this world would become without him in it.

But then, finally, the doors to surgery open, and Dr. Liberman comes outside. He’s clearly wearing the same med coat from the surgery because it’s covered in blood. Stephan’s blood. My body begins shaking, but Kenneth squeezes my shoulder and helps me to my feet.

Dr. Liberman finds me in the crowd of worried faces and strides toward me. Well, not strides, but slowly walks. His feet are tired, his eyes sunken.

My heart is about to stop. I don’t think I’m breathing.

The doctor sighs heavily before speaking. “It was a hard surgery. Two exit wounds in both lungs, and they kept collapsing. He’s lost a lot of blood—one of the bullets hit a major blood vessel. We had to do a few transfusions during the surgery.” He wipes his sweaty forehead with the paper towel he has in his hand. “He’s in a medically induced coma now.”

I don’t understand if I should breathe a sigh of relief or cry in fear.

Kenneth must be feeling the same because he asks, “What is his prognosis?”

Dr. Liberman finds my eyes and shakes his head, silently apologizing.

I fall to my knees, unable to breathe. Lost in this fear, enveloping me in its scary embrace. I’ve been living in hope for the past few hours, and now it’s been taken away from me.

I weep on the floor of the hospital, and no one can help me. Surrounded by my friends and family, the closest people in my life, I still feel so alone. None of them can possibly understand what’s happening inside my shattered heart. None of them know what he means to me. None of them had been there that night I found him with the gun—the scariest moment of my life.

I thought that would be it. No more scares. How wrong I was.

This, right here, is how it feels when the world collapses around you. When all you’re left with is piles of broken dreams, hopes, and feelings because you are still breathing for some unknown reason. When you finally understand how small you are and how fragile life is but can’t change anything anymore, because you just tasted how easily it can break.

Strong hands wrap around me and pull me into a warm chest. Kenneth doesn’t say a word, but he lets me feel it all, offering his support and understanding.

I don’t know how long I spend on the floor, wrapped in the arms of my big brother, but when I can’t cry anymore, and only dry hiccups come out, I pull away and look up. His sad eyes are red-rimmed. I look around and find everyone mourning a person who’s still alive, and Alex is the worst of them all. He’s staring ahead, eyes absent as he’s silently sits in his chair. He’s taking it hard, but has no one to share it with.

I take a deep breath and rise to my feet. Looking around, I find Dr. Liberman still in the room with us.

I wipe my face and ask him, “Can I see him?”

“The nurses are prepping him for transfer. Once he’s settled, they’ll come get you.”

“Thank you.”

He gives me another look and says, “I’m sorry.” He looks around, searching for someone. “The medic said there was someone at the scene who did CPR.” It wasn’t a question, but an answer is expected.

“Jake was there,” I say quietly and point to the ex-cop with a bad history who’s been hiding in the corner the whole time. I don’t think anyone has talked to him the whole day—or is it night?

“Good job.” The doctor gives him a quick nod of appreciation. “He wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Jake averts his eyes and chews on his lip. But the doctor’s words sure draw everyone’s attention, and they’re all staring at a rapidly pinkening Jake. The doctor doesn’t notice the tension and keeps going.

“I don’t know exactly how long he’d been dead—”

My heart skips a beat at his words.

“—but your action saved his life. You should be proud, young man.”

Now, Jake’s cheeks are totally red. He nods at the doctor and quickly looks back down at his shoes.

With that, the doctor departs. I start walking toward Jake.

“Leila?” Justin calls out, but I don’t care.

When I reach Jake, I throw myself at him and wrap my arms around his torso, squeezing him as tight as I can.

“Thank you,” I murmur into his chest. “Thank you so much, Jake.”

He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Sure.” His voice comes out gruff.

“Thank you,” I repeat again and finally pull away. “Thank you, Jake.”

He nods and takes a careful step back. I take a deep breath, smile at him one more time, and turn to face my family. They might mourn him because they know the old Archie, but I know Stephan, and this man has something to live for. I don’t want anyone’s pity because there is no reason for it—he will live.