much. I feel like I’m dying. I get in the car, but I don’t know how. All I can see is the look in Anthony’s eyes as the bullets hit his back. I cover my face with my hands and let all the pain out as I sob.
“Catherine?” Tommy asks me after a long time. I look up and see that we’re driving, but I don’t know where we're going. He pulls over and holds me against him as I cry. His hand rubs gently on my back and for a moment I pretend it’s Anthony. I pretend it’s okay. “I know Anthony has problems. It’s not his fault.” He chokes on his words and refuses to look me in the eyes, “I’m sorry.” I don’t know how to respond, so I say nothing.
“Did he hurt you?” I hear the pain in Tommy’s question and I look up at him with confusion. Did Anthony hurt me? It takes me a long time to gather the strength to answer. “No. Never.” My heart twists with a pain I’ve never felt before.
“I didn’t know he was keeping you against your will. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Catherine. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. He’ll never find you if you don’t want him to.”
I shake my head frantically. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that. I want to go to Anthony,” I insist. I hold onto Tommy’s arm with an unrelenting grasp. My heart stammers in my chest and anxiety races through my blood. They can’t send me away. I need to know he’s okay.
“Do you love him?” Tommy asks.
“I do; I don’t care if it’s wrong.” It’s the truth, and I pray Tommy knows that. But he doesn’t respond.
“He can’t die for me; tell me he’ll be okay.” He has to be okay.
“I wish you’d ask me for something I can give you, Catherine, but I can’t give you that.”
Catherine
The faint humming of the machines and the steady beeping of the monitors are the only sounds in the room, but I need to keep hearing them. They tell me he’s alive. They removed the breathing tube from his throat today. It’s been three days and they keep telling me he’s going to wake up soon since now he can breathe on his own. They’re just waiting on him now.
I’m waiting on him, too.
Tommy comes back into the room and hands me a styrofoam cup with a lid on it and the string from the teabag draped over the side. I give him a small smile and say thank you. I haven’t slept at all. I didn’t realize I haven’t had to drink my tea or take my pills to sleep until I found myself curled up in the hospital chair, wide-awake and watching Anthony.
My voice is hoarse as I thank him.
“You can go if you want,” Vince says from across the room as Tommy sags in the seat next to him. He keeps telling me that, and I give him the same response I did last time.
“I want to stay.” He nods his head and looks down at his phone then back up at Tommy. They start talking in hushed tones. I don’t mind. I don’t listen. I just keep my eyes on Anthony’s chest as it slowly rises and falls.
I put my cup down and scoot my chair closer to Anthony’s bed. The clink of the metal is the only sound in the room. I take his hand in mine and rub my thumb along the palm of his hand and wait. I need him to hold me back. I just need a sign that he’ll be alright.
I look up and my heart stops beating as Anthony clears his throat and his head turns to the side. He’s waking up. My eyes widen and I do what I’ve been trained to do. I get onto my knees in the chair and kneel as best as I can. I watch my dom, my master, my love, and my life as I wait for him to wake and acknowledge me.
I see Vincent and Tommy rise from their seats from my periphery. I don’t look at them though. I don’t care what they think. I need Anthony to see me waiting for him like this. I need him to know I was waiting for him, that I would always be here for him.
His eyes slowly open and he looks down at me with confusion as he takes