Page 96 of Love at First Sighting
“Or…” I pivot. Between the shelves, Carter gives me a single nod. “Could I interest you in a new printer?”
Marcus pauses and glares. “A newwhat?”
He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before Carter gives one heavy push and a printer from the literal nineties plummets from the top shelf and collides with Marcus’s head. It takes him out instantly and leaves a spray of ancient computer parts, ink cartridges, and busted buttons in a heap in front of me.
“Maybe you’re out of ink,” I say.
I circle him, quickly grabbing the handcuffs Carter dropped in the scuffle and cuffing Marcus to one of the support beamsin the bunker. He’s out cold, and after the second the handcuff locks into place, I rush to Carter’s side.
I’m stumbling and frantic, like I’m running out of time, but as I round the corner of the next aisle, I see Carter is still there. Still breathing, still conscious. He’s struggling to sit up, both hands held firmly over his wound. Blood seeps through his fingers and his breaths are shallow and labored.
I drop to my knees and ease him onto the ground. I shed my jacket and ball it up, setting the folder down next to us. Carter lets out a shuddering breath of pain as cold, dank bunker air sweeps into the wound.
“Here,” I say. “This’ll help. Keep pressure on it.”
He nods slowly, holding the jacket in place. He winces softly as I press my hands on top of his, which are sticky with blood. “Hope you don’t have to film any content with this.”
“I was testing the caption just now. Feedback?”
Carter manages a smile. “It’s a little violent. Help should be on the way.”
“It’s over,” I breathe, and tears leak down my cheeks. We have our answers. Carter and his dad will have their justice. Marcus will have his concrete jail cell to look forward to. And Carter and I have the rest of our lives together. We’ve come this far, and I’m determined to get us both out of here okay. “It’s over, and you just have to hang on a little longer until help arrives. Just a little longer.”
His lips are ashy and blue, and he’s losing lucidity with each second. I’m terrified if help doesn’t arrive soon, I could lose him for good.
“I promised I’d come back.”
I caress the side of Carter’s face, wiping his own tears away with my thumb. “I knew you would.”
“B-because of that, do I get to tell you I love you now?”
I tilt his chin my direction, pressing my forehead to his. I steer him toward my lips and kiss him like it could be the last time. He tastes like mint gum, blood, and salty tears. Carter kisses back, tired, lazy, and aimless. He’s nearly unconscious, letting out shallow, delirious breaths.
“Please do.”
He offers a weak smile and squeezes my hand. “Great. I’m so in love with you, Agent Ariel.”
A distant blare of sirens renews hope that help is close and we’ll get him to a hospital and put all of this behind us. I’m scared of what comes after this, how I’m ever supposed to go back to the life I had before, what starting over looks like with him. And I’m a little scared of getting arrested for the car chase and all the government hoopla we’ve gotten ourselves into. But we’ve proven we’re brave—brave enough to love each other—and together, we might be able to handle anything.
Instead of missing more chances, pushing it off out of fear, and waiting for a moment that doesn’t feel like a goodbye, I kiss him again and tell him the most honest, real thing I possibly can.
“I love you so much, Agent Carter.”
Chapter 30
Carter
The last time I woke up in the hospital, I had no idea where I was. Everything hurt, and the only person there was a very nice nurse named Angela, who looked at me with immense sympathy, even if I didn’t know why yet. I can’t imagine it’s easy to tell a ten-year-old his only parent is dead and explain why no one else is there when he wakes up or coming to see him.
This time, I know exactly where I am. There’s a monotonous beeping, the distant echo of voices, and a chiming intercom telling Dr. Ellory they’re needed in the NICU. There is no nurse named Angela keeping vigil at my side, but there is one very sleepy El resting poorly in a hospital chair, her fingers woven between mine.
The one thing that’s the same is that my body hurts and I really want more drugs.
I also want to take this stupid little oxygen tube out of my nose.
It looks to be somewhere before dawn, based on the hazy blue-and-orange sky coming in through our window. It’s well outside any normal visiting hours, and I wonder how she swung that one, but I know better than to underestimate El.
I don’t remember much between seeing her handcuffMarcus in the world’s most awkward position and waking up now. I remember blips of memories, shrouded in delirious haze and pain. A blare of sirens. El frantically answering questions, never letting go of my hand as I drifted in and out of consciousness. El rattling off a long list of charges she thinks the police should file against Marcus. El pleading with the paramedics to let her stay with me as long as possible.
