Page 69 of Caden & Theo
Come back.
It’s darker now. Or my eyes are worse.
Theo’s voice is quieter, like it’s coming from the end of a tunnel. “They’re on their way,” he says. “I saw the lights. Almost here.”
He’s still holding my hand. I squeeze back—or maybe I just imagine it.
“Keep talking,” he pleads. “Say something.”
I try. But my mouth won’t work.
His hand tightens. “Please.”
I close my eyes. Not because I want to. Because I can’t keep them open anymore.
Theo sobs—loud and broken. But he doesn’t let go.
Not once.
Not ever.
Red flashing lights bleed through the dark, pulsing like a heartbeat gone haywire. I can’t tell if the sirens are still far or already screaming over us. It’s hard to think, harder to breathe. Every sound comes in waves—too loud, then muffled like I’m underwater.
The cold hits me next. Sharp and merciless, cutting through the broken windows, curling into every inch of me. I try to shift, but pain claws through my chest and leg, white-hot and blinding.
“Theo—” I choke the name out, but it’s barely a breath, my throat sandpaper and blood.
“I’m here.” His voice. Theo’s voice. Shaky and broken and right next to me. “I’m right here, baby. You’re okay—you’re gonna be okay. Help is coming, I swear.”
I want to see him. I need to see him. I force my eyes to open, blinking through tears and something warm trickling into them. He’s leaning over me, face pale and panicked and streaked with blood.
Then a louder voice cuts in. Someone shouting. Doors slamming. Feet stomping the ground.
“We need the cutters. Passenger’s pinned. Driver’s responsive.”
I feel Theo flinch beside me. Someone tugs at him. “Sir, you need to step away. Let us in.”
“No! No, I’m not leaving him. He needs—he needs to know I’m here.”
A stronger voice, sterner. “Sir. We’ve got it. You need to step back now.”
I feel him slipping away from me—his hand ripped from mine—and panic tears through my ribs like broken glass. I try to shout, but it’s just a groan, and that’s when the shrieking starts.
Metal grinding. Ripping.
The Jaws of Life tear into the car like a beast, vibrating through my bones. I clench my jaw to keep from screaming. My leg—it’s wrong. Twisted. Trapped. Pain pulses through me in waves, every one worse than the last. My vision whites out.
A face appears above me. Mask. Helmet. “Hey there, buddy. Stay with me. We’ve got you, okay?”
I try to nod, but it’s useless. My head won’t lift. My chest won’t move right.
Where’s Theo?
I blink hard. The lights blur and smear. Shapes move around me, shouting things I don’t understand. I’m being touched—stabilized, lifted. The car creaks and groans like it might give out beneath me.
The pain spikes so high it steals the breath from my lungs.
And then there, just through the shattered window, I see him. Theo. Being held back. Struggling. Crying.
