Page 30 of Time Bomb

Flipping to the closed sign since no one’s in the store, I shut off the lights and make my way to my office, hoping to invite him out for dinner. I’d cook for him, but I destroyed my house looking for cameras. I found three and was sick for hours. I couldn’t believe it.

His phone rings until I get the voicemail. I leave a short message and finish some bookkeeping before trying him again an hour later—still nothing.

With nothing more to do here, I walk home, and it’s lonely and cold, despite the warm air. A storm must be brewing. Approaching my house, I’m filled with dread. Not only because of what the inside holds but because I find another white envelope popping out of my mailbox.

I remain outside this time as I rip it open, prepared for more inappropriate pictures. What I find instead, drops me to my knees with a wail of anguish passing my lips.

There in all their colorful glory, are images of Torque being carried out of a fire with some kind of pole puncturing his side. One is of the paramedics trying to shock him, another of blood dripping off his coat. More of him being loaded into the ambulance, then at the hospital as someone administers CPR.

Is he dead? Could he be, and that’s why he’s not answering? No. I shake my head, refusing to believe it. He can’t be. If he were, Hale would have called me. He would have come by or sent someone. I wouldn’t be left in the dark.

Unless Torque told them how terrible I was to him.

“Oh god.” I feel sick to my stomach as I hear sirens approach.

Turning around, I see Dorian Wagner skidding to a halt in front of my house, and my worst fears are coming true.

“No, no, no, no.” My hands cover my mouth as my head shakes back and forth, and my eyes blur with tears I’m trying desperately to hold onto. I can’t handle it if something has happened to Torque. If the last thing I did to him was throw him out of my house.

“He’s critical,” Dorian fills me in, reaching out a hand for me to take. It’s not until I grip him that I realize I’m trembling so badly that I’ve crumpled the pictures in my palm. I almost drop them when he reaches out. His eyes scan them quickly before ushering me to his car.

The drive is nerve-racking. Dorian doesn’t ask about the pictures, and I don’t inquire about Torque because I’m terrified of the answer. I don’t know how I’ll cope if he doesn’t make it.

Before I know it, we’re stopped in front of the hospital, and another firefighter is there to open my door and escort me out. Balancing on shaking legs, I don’t process how I make it inside or how I’m breathing when it feels like my world is crumbling.

“Ophelia!” I hear Laken before I see her. Hale holds her in her chair, keeping her in place. Jesse sits on her other side.

I sit silently across from them, not knowing what to say or do. I can’t focus on anything right now. I feel like I’m in a fog of despair, and there’s no way to claw my way through. Not until I hear his voice. Until he’s teasing me about my name. Until he’s promising to do wicked, filthy things to my body. If there is no Torque, there is no more.

Funny how the reality of death can do that to you. Force you to see that everything you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you, within reach but not.

There’re murmurings about how long Torque coded for. Too many minutes. Too long to survive. “Oh god.” I shove my head between my legs and close my eyes, trying to center on my breathing, but nothing works.

All I picture are those images of this man’s broken and mangled body. The blood. The way they tried to resuscitate him. Is he dead, and they just aren’t saying anything? Have I lost him before I ever had him?

It would be my luck.

To have the most amazing thing right at the tip of my fingers, only to lose it before I could fully grasp it. I wouldn’t blame Torque for not holding on, for just floating off into the abyss. It’s not like I gave him any sort of hope that there was a future for us after I kicked him to the curb.

He must hate me.

I would. No, I do. I hate myself so much right now.

“Mr. Decker?” Someone’s voice carries, but I can’t look up. A hand brushes along my shoulders as they pass, and I recognize it’s Hale. He’s offering comfort on his way to learn his brother’s fate.

I heard those men speaking, saying that he died over and over again. That the damage was too severe. There’s nothing more to do now but mourn and pray. Hands on my shoulders startle me, but I’m immobile. I don’t want to reside in a world where Torque no longer exists. I want to remain in this limbo where it’s possible he’s still alive.

“Ophelia.” Hale’s stern voice has me shaking my head. “Ophelia, come on. You’ve never run from anything in your life; don’t start now. Not when he fucking needs you.”

“No,” I bellow. “No. I don’t want to know if he’s dead, Hale. Not yet.” My voice breaks at the end.

“He’s not dead, Ophelia. He’s alive and in the ICU. Lost an organ and some blood. Has a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion, but he’s alive and breathing on his own.” Staring up at the one man I’ve trusted since the day we met, I blink several times before he nods and cracks the widest smile.

“He’s alive?” This can’t be real.

“Alive and kicking.” I snort at his joke. We both know he’s not kicking. “You want to see him?”

I stare, dumbfounded. “Don’t you?”