Page 88 of Submission

My voice is low as I hiss at her, “If you even think of dying, I’ll set this whole fucking world on fire! Keep your eyes open. Keep fighting. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go!”

But her eyes are growing cloudier, and it feels like somebody has grabbed me by the neck, making it difficult to even draw out a single breath.

My hands are covered in her blood, and it feels as if someone is driving nails into my heart. Her lips are moving, and she’s trying to say something, maybe to curse me out for yelling at her, so I lean forward, desperate to hear anything she has to say.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

My heart nearly stops.

“I – I - love you,” she stutters.

Just as she finishes saying those three beautiful words, she spurts out some blood, and I order her fiercely and say, “Tell me that again after you’ve been patched up, baby.”

She gives me a drained smile in response, then her eyes roll to the back of her head, and sheer panic settles into my soul.

“Megan!” I shout her name. “Please, don’t go.”

Chapter 35

You’re Not Allowed To Leave

Hunter

Parker has barely pressed on the brakes in front of the Los Angeles Downtown Medical Center when I rush out of the car, holding Megan’s limp form in my arms. I feel like a desperate character straight out of a medical drama, barging through the emergency room doors, bypassing the metal detector, and straight to the nurses' station.

“I need help!” I plead.

“Okay, sir, but–”

I have a visceral reaction to the word, but I immediately look around for another nurse who will help us. I notice a female doctor in an open patient area, and recognition hits me.

“Dr. Yasmin!”

She was in the middle of taking off her coat when she sees me and the limp woman in my arms. Her eyes turn grim as she gestures to the nurses, who quickly transfer Megan onto a gurney.

“What happened?” She asks firmly.

“She got shot in the abdomen. There’s no exit wound. I’ve tried to stop the bleeding, but there’s so much.” My voice trails away.

The doctor touches my arm. “We’ll take it from here. Let’s prep an OR now,” she commands the staff. “Mr. Middleton, I need you to stay here in the waiting room. I’ll have someone come get you when I have more information.”

Normally, I’d ignore orders like this. They’re for the average person. I’m not average. I’m Hunter fucking Middleton, and I probably gave thousands of dollars to this hospital.

It physically hurts my soul as they take Megan out of my arms and place her on the gurney through the dreaded double hospital doors to a surgical room. I want to follow her, but there’s another small body that throws herself at me, and I look down to see Lena sobbing against my chest.

“Is she dying, Hunter?”

My arms wrap around her lithe frame, dazed, as I watch the light turn red in the surgery room. I feel hollow as I wait, unable to process anything, barely able to breathe.

“They’re going to fix her,” I tell my sister because it’s the only reality I will permit myself to believe.

All I can see over and over in my head is Megan’s shocked look and then the way she collapsed.

Thank you.

I love you.

You can’t just say statements like that to me as if you’re dying, as if you’re okay with dying,I think to myself as I leave Lena sitting in a chair to grab a cup of disgusting vending machine coffee.

---