Page 63 of Don't Regret Me
30
ELIZABETH
“Liz.” The word was only a whisper amid the roiling smoke, the searing flames that inched ever closer.
Liz couldn’t make a sound, she couldn’t move.
“Liz.” That voice again. It was one she recognized, but she wasn’t sure how.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the script, the one that would burn up right here alongside the last two people on Earth who knew it existed, the only ones who’d consumed its heartbreaking words.
She forced her eyes open, and the voice spoke again, this time louder.
“Please help him.”
She knew where she’d heard it before now. After her coma, she spent hours scanning over anything she could find about Stephen. Mostly photos and a few vague articles. But there’d been one video too. It hadn’t said he was Nick’s brother, only an unnamed man, but Liz knew it the moment she saw them together in the red carpet interview.
Please help him.
Nick was slumped behind her, his head lolled to the side. It took all her strength to sit up and turn. “Nick.” She could barely hear her own voice. “You have to open your eyes.”
He stirred but didn’t wake.
“Nick, there’s no lake house this time if you go to sleep.” She’d never been sure of her own beliefs regarding heaven. It was there, she was pretty certain, but… “I might not be waiting for you if you leave.” She slapped the side of his face lightly. “Come on, you arrogant jerk. You can’t die after the awful things you said to me. That’s the easy way out.”
A low chuckle came from him, followed by a cough. “I can’t believe I ever forgot you.”
She could. She was there. It hurt.
“Come on.” She pushed to her knees. Chest burning. Eyes stinging. Heart slowly piecing itself back together. At least one part of her had come to life while the rest tried to die.
She looked back to make sure he was following her. He’d managed to shimmy onto his belly and inch forward. It was better than nothing. She led the way, one hand feeling her way through the smoke and ash, the ruins of everything they’d had together.
Her mother’s house. Stephen’s house. Their house. So much life happened here. She refused to let it become a place of death once again.
As the smoke thinned, she realized they were close. “Almost there, Nick.”
He didn’t respond, but he gripped her ankle and squeezed to let her know he was there. When his grip loosened, panic skittered over her skin. And then, the door was there, and a man and woman rushed toward her with a gurney. The metal was bright yellow and the bed a stark white compared to all the dirt and darkness she left behind.
When they lifted her, she only issued a half-hearted protest. The man put an oxygen mask over her mouth, but she pulled it down. “He’s right behind me.” They shared an alarmed look before yelling for two of the firefighters to go in and get Nick.
Liz waited until she saw them carry him to a second gurney before trying to roll off hers. The woman stopped her. “You need to stay here.”
“No.” She pushed weakly at the woman’s hands. “My kids.”
“They’re okay.” She smiled. “Everyone got out safely. You can see them when we get you to the hospital.”
Liz ripped the oxygen mask off. “No, now.” She managed to slide off, her feet hitting the grass. A strong arm wrapped around her to keep her steady.
“Booker.” She leaned against him. He’d always been strong for her, always there. “You’re…”
“Fine.” He coughed. “But you need to go to the hospital.”
“Not yet.” He didn’t fight her as she steered him toward the kids at the back of another ambulance. They jumped up, ripping masks off their faces.
“Momma.” Tears streamed down Evelyn’s face.
Owen, always more stoic, approached with quivering breath to give her a tight hug. “We were scared, Mom.”
