Falling into You (Falling #1)(20)

I twisted my torso, trying to get my weight off my broken arm. Then I saw it. The tree hadn’t just fallen on him. A branch had spiked through him. Another scream ripped through me, this time fading into silence as my voice gave out.

I reached out and brushed the rain from his face, the blood from his cheek and chin. “Kyle?” This was a whisper, ragged and barely audible.

“Nell…I love you.”

“You’re gonna be okay, Kyle. I love you.” I forced myself to my feet, put my shoulder to the tree and pushed, pulled. “I’m gonna get you out. Get you to a hospital. You’ll be fine….We’re gonna go to Stanford together.”

The tree shifted, and Kyle groaned in pain. “Stop, Nell. Stop.”

“No…no. I have to…have to get you out.” I pushed again, slid in the mud and my face bashed into the bark of the tree.

I slumped to the ground next to Kyle. I felt his hand snake through the mud and latch onto mine.

“You can’t, Nell. Just…hold my hand. I love you.” His eyes searched my face, as if memorizing my features.

“I love you Kyle. You’re gonna be fine. We’ll get married…please…” The words tripped out, broken by sobs.

I forced myself to my feet. Ran stumbling to the car, red paint and black racing stripe battered and shattered, reached in through the broken window for my purse. A shard of glass cut a long line of crimson across my arm, but I didn’t feel it. I clutched the purse awkwardly against my chest with my hurt arm, dug my phone out from my purse, frantically slid my finger across the screen to unlock it, nearly dropped it as I punched the green and white phone icon. My purse fell forgotten to the mud.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” A calm female voice pierced my shock.

“A tree fell…my boyfriend is trapped under it. I think he’s hurt bad. I think a branch…please…please come and help him.” I didn’t recognize my voice, the abject terror and incoherent tone.

“What is your address, miss?”

I spun in place. “I don’t—I don’t know.” I did know the address, but I couldn’t summon it. “Nine three four…” I choked on a sob, fell to the ground next to Kyle, gravel biting into my knees and backside.

“What is your address, miss?” The operator repeated herself calmly.

“Nine…three….four…one…Rayburn…road,” Kyle whispered.

I repeated the address to the operator. “Someone will be there as soon as possible, miss. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

I couldn’t answer. I dropped the phone, heard her voice repeat the question. I stared absently as rain pebbled and beaded and smeared the screen, the red “end call” bar, the white icons for ‘mute’, ‘keypad’ and everything else turning gray as the operator hung up, or the call disconnected. I reached for the phone again, as if it could help Kyle. I grabbed it, but with the wrong hand. My fingers wouldn’t work, and red liquid mixed with rain on the darkened screen, trailing down my forearm and trickling from my fingers.

I turned to Kyle. His eyes were glassy, distant. I took his hand in mine. Fell forward into the mud to lay face to face with him.

“Don’t leave me.” I barely heard my own voice.

“I…I don’t want to,” he whispered. “I love you. I love you.” Those were the only words he seemed to know, now. He repeated them over and over, and I said them back, as if those three words could hold him here on earth, hold him to life.

I heard distant sirens.

Kyle dragged in a ragged breath, squeezed my hand, but it was weak, a distant touch. His eyes fluttered, searched for me.

“I’m right here, Kyle. Help is coming. Don’t go. Don’t let go.” I sobbed as his eyes skittered past me as if he didn’t see me.

I pressed my lips to his, tasting blood. His lips were cold. But he was in the rain, so he’d be cold, right? That’s all it was. He was just cold. I kissed him again.

“Kyle? Kiss me back. I need you. Wake up.” I kissed him a third time, but his lips were cold and still against mine. “Wake up. Wake up. Please. We have to get married. I love you.”

I felt hands lift me, pull me away. Heard voices saying something to me, but the words were lost. Someone was screaming. Me? Kyle was still, too still. Only cold, only frozen. Not gone. Not gone. No. No. His hand was curled as if holding mine, but I was far away, gliding away, carried by the wind. Blown away by the wind.

I felt nothing. No pain, even when my arm was jostled as I was laid onto a stretcher. I saw Kyle, far away, farther now, heard more voices asking me questions, handling my arm carefully. Pain was like the thunder, distant now. Like the rain, cold and forgotten.

I love you. I wasn’t sure if the words were spoken aloud.

I felt a hand trying to pry my fist open. I was clutching something in my uninjured hand. A round, middle-aged face hovered in front of me, speaking silent words, mouth moving. My eyelids slid closed, blanketing me in darkness, then light returned as I opened them again. I drew a breath, let it out. Then again. I wondered idly why I had to breathe anymore. Kyle was gone. So why breathe?

Something cold and hard and clear was placed over my mouth and nose, and I was breathing again anyway.

I looked at my closed fist. What was I holding? I didn’t know.