Page 133 of Every Broken Piece
I can only nod because my throat's too tight.
“We’ll go back the way they would’ve come,” Jack says. “I’m sure Tess got caught up in something and they left late.”
I try to let his words comfort me, but my gut tells me that’s not why they’re late. She would have texted that she was running late. And if she didn’t, Pax would have.
The wind takes the restaurant door from my grasp when I open it. I have to lunge to grab it before it slams into the plate glass window.
I button my coat as we turn toward our apartment building. After half a block, we start jogging. It scares me that Jack is just as worried because of the two of us he’s not the worrier.
Another half a block and I can see the red lights of the emergency vehicles bouncing off the surrounding buildings. The snows falling a little heavier, softening the harshness of the emergency lights.
We turn the corner and my heart drops. There are four police cruises, an ambulance, and medics working on someone lying on the pavement. A small crowd presses against the yellow crime scene tape that’s meant to keep them back.
Jack and I shoulder our way through the crowd. The first thing I see is a person lying on the pavement and the bright orange sneakers I bought Pax for Christmas.
“Fuck.” Jack lurches forward as a cop grabs his arm.
“Whoa there. No passing the yellow tape.”
“That’s his son,” Jack says, an edge of panic to his voice.
I rush past the cop, drop to my knees beside Pax. Blood coats the pavement and his jeans. His eyes are closed. I reach for him, but pause, not knowing where I can touch him when all I want to do is snatch him up.
“Pax.” My voice breaks.
An EMT is starting an IV while another works on stemming the flow of blood coming out of Pax’s body.
His eyes pop open when he hears me and I sag in relief.
Not dead.
He’s not dead.
“Dad.” Pax struggles to sit up, making it to his elbows. He’s pale, his mouth tight with pain, eyes wide in fear. “They took her. They took Tess.”
My heart fucking falls to my knees.
“Who? Who took Tess?”
“I don’t know. They pulled her into a white van. They shot her—”
I rear back, stumble to my feet and look around wildly like she’ll be there, standing there, watching me. Not taken. Not shot. My head swivels as the blood rushes through me so fast it makes me lightheaded.
“With a taser.” Pax grips my pant leg with a bloody hand. “They shot her...with a taser. Pulled her...into a...van.” He falls back and hurriedly wipes tears from his eyes, smearing blood onto his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry... Couldn’t save her. Tried but he...shot me. Held a gun to my head and she...” He gasps, struggling for breath and all I can do is stare down at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
Someone held a gun to Pax’s head?
My hands ball into fists.
Someone.
Held a gun.
Tomy son’shead.
Someone fuckingshotmy son.
I drop to my knees again and grab his hand, squeezing it hard. “Where are you shot?”
