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Cole – Present Day
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I JUMPED BEHIND THE wheel, turned the key in the ignition, and had us out of there with a screech of wheels on asphalt. I was probably driving too fast, determined to put space between Gabi and the fireworks, though the whizzes, bangs, and pops continued as though they were chasing us. I had no experience of what she was going through, but every single fiber of my being was desperate to help her. I reached out and switched on the radio—not because I wanted any music, but because I wanted to drown out the explosions of the fireworks.
She shook and trembled in the seat, her head bent, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands had reached down to clutch at the prosthetic leg beneath her long skirt, and I caught a glimpse of the lightweight metal which vanished into her sneaker.
I wasn’t the sort of guy to be in touch with his feelings, but the sight of her in such fear and pain caused my throat to tighten with a sharp pain on its own and my vision grew misty. I’d never seen someone like this before, and the fact it was Gabi made everything worse. I would have sacrificed my own leg at that moment if it meant releasing her from whatever hell she was trapped in.
Her father’s house was too close to the beach to offer much protection from the noise of the fireworks. Even through closed windows and walls, she’d still be able to hear the bangs. My house, on the outskirts of town, was a much better option, at least until the worst of the noise passed.
I kept my foot to the floor, and within fifteen minutes, we’d reached my place. Most of the fireworks had already ended, though the occasional rocket still went off—young people setting them off illegally at their own beach parties, I suspected. Every time I heard a bang, I wanted to kill the person who had lit the fuse.
Gabi appeared to have completely internalized what she was going through. I tried to ask her questions, but she just shook her head, and kept her hands clamped over her ears.
I swung into my driveway and hopped out. I went to lift her from the passenger seat, but she put out her hand.
“I can walk,” she gasped. “Just help me.”
I put my arm around her, helping her from the seat. Together we staggered toward my small rental. I fumbled in my pocket for my keys, located them, and managed to get the door open. With her fingers gripping the material of my shirt, I guided her toward the couch. She was limping badly, sucking air in over her teeth with each step. We reached the couch and I helped her to lie down, and then stood feeling helpless and stupid, much like a man must feel when his wife is giving birth to their first child.
Crouching beside her, I put my hand gently on her shoulder. “Gabi, tell me what I can do to help. Do you need a doctor?”
She shook her head.
“Some pain medication, then? I have some, though it’s not very strong. Do you have anything at your dad’s I can get for you?”
Again, she shook her head, but this time she lifted her eyes to meet mine. The fear and pain I saw in their dark depths twisted my heart, and again the desperate urge to do anything possible to rid her of that pain came over me.
“Pain meds won’t help,” she said. “The pain isn’t real ... I mean, it’s real to my brain, but the pain I’m feeling isn’t really there. It used to be bad after the surgery, but I got it mostly under control.”
“But the fireworks set it off again?”
“It was the bangs. I just felt like I was right back in the moment. It won’t last forever. I just have to let it pass.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Cole.”
Her words surprised me. “Sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“I ruined your Fourth.”
“Crazy girl,” I said, taking her hand. “I still got to spend it with you.”
She forced a smile and I knew it was for my benefit.
I squeezed her fingers. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d want to be.”