Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Josie. Josie. Josie …
As quickly as they appeared, the armed men fire their way toward a moving van, load the bodies, and speed off as my team, those who aren’t wounded, climb into squad cars in pursuit of them.
I hear my name, but it’s a mere echo. Beethoven’s too loud, drowning out everything while I run toward the pier—the last place I saw Josie.
Her bag’s near the edge, halfway between the location of the two missing bodies. I follow the blood. Her blood? I don’t know, but it leads me to the side of the pier. Diving into the water, I frantically search the cloudy abyss for any sign of her.
Josie!
I swim toward her body, seemingly suspended in the water. Her shirt’s caught on a piece of scrap metal lodged in the sand and rock. Blood swirls in the water around her. As my lungs begin to burn, I free her and drag her to the surface.
“Help!” I yell on a gasp. “HELP!” I swim toward the shore, but no one’s running to help us because everyone needs help. They took two bodies and left a smattering of new ones.
Just as I get her out of the water, an officer and a paramedic help me, taking over.
She’s gone.
I’ve seen enough bodies to know … she’s gone. Still, I listen to Beethoven and remain unmoving as they work on her. She’s been shot. And she’s not breathing.
“She’s gone,” I whisper, but no one is listening to me.
I shouldn’t have left her. Seventeen years ago, I shouldn’t have left her. I should have followed my fucking heart. It might have changed the course of our lives forever. Maybe she wouldn’t have been a medical examiner, and maybe I wouldn’t have gone into law enforcement.
We’d be married with two unruly kids she never imagined wanting. But finding the one changes everything. Our house would be small, but our hearts would be full … and beating.
Josie’s heart is not beating, and mine feels incredibly purposeless. I think about Reagan’s exuberant smile and the way she squeals “Daddy,” and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. The sonata’s tempo picks up. Reagan needs me. I have to keep breathing, keep living. I made it seventeen years without Josephine Watts in my life. What’s eternity?
I didn’t deserve her anyway, and we both knew it.
The paramedics transport her to the ambulance. My feet trudge through the sand under the weight of my drenched clothes and the gruesome cloud of gravity.
Bodies … there are bodies everywhere with one less medical examiner to autopsy the ones that won’t make it.
I shoulder my way past the paramedics, grabbing her hand as they try to push me away. “I should have said it.” The words rip from my chest as I hold her limp hand. “Josie … fuck …” I can barely breathe past the pain gripping my throat like a noose. “I should have … said it.” I lose her hand when she’s lifted into the ambulance. My fingers thread through my hair as my eyes burn and my head inches side to side. “I love you … I love you.”
The back doors to the ambulance slam shut, lights flashing, people swarming all around me. And Beethoven fades along with the ambulance lights. I hate that I know I can’t follow her body. I’m hardwired to step over dead bodies to save the living. Bravery doesn’t take time to mourn until the battle is over.
Josie’s killers are on the run. The battle is not over.
By the time I catch up to the rest of my team, they’re calling for air assistance as the shooters fly off in a helicopter.
“FUCK!” I slam my car door and kick the toe of my black boot through the dirt.
“We’ll get ’em.” Rains holsters his weapon before resting his hand on my shoulder. “Where were you?”
I shake my head, finding it nearly impossible to speak. Gritting my teeth, I clear my throat. “Josie … Jos … Dr. Watts … she …”
Rains wrinkles his face. “Oh fuck.”
I nod and glance up at the sky.
“I’ll meet you back at the station,” he says.
“I have a stop to make first.”
When I arrive at the hospital, it feels like the bones in my legs are splintering, refusing to carry me toward her body. I have to see her to know … for it to feel real because reality evaporated hours ago, replaced with hell on earth.
What will I tell her parents?
“Where’s Josephine Watts?” I ask the nurse and shake my head. “Dr. Watts. She was brought in several hours ago.”
The nurse checks her computer.
“Has next of kin been notified?” I ask.
“I’ll check.” She shakes her head. “Dr. Watts is still in surgery.”
“What?” She’s mistaken.
“Are you family?”
I pull out my badge.
“You can wait in the waiting room, or I can call you when she’s out of surgery.”