The hairs on the back of my neck rise as a blinding rage hits me. He’s right. That fact was never released. Only someone who had been there that day would have known Ty was home.
I swallow, taking a deep breath as I weigh what all this means.
“It could be nothing, but you need to be careful, Roman.” His voice is flat. “If this really is La Eme, then they’re—”
A rapid burst of gunshots cut through the air. Tires screech as bullets spray across the area to the pulse of a machine gun and park goers scream and run for cover.
Above it all, I hear Ty.
“Daddy!” I turn at his panicked shriek. He’s halfway between me and the playground, confusion and panic flashing in his eyes.
Dropping my phone, I lunge toward him, but I’m not quick enough. His body jolts and his eyes widen. A crimson stain expands across the bottom of his t-shirt.. All the wind is sucked out of me like I’ve been shot myself.
Time seems to slow, and my progress toward him feels like moving through concrete. Terrified parents shove their children out of the way, taking cover wherever they can. Others have been hit, and the playground quickly turns into pure madness.
The air stills, and the shooting ends as quickly as it started, but the carnage has just begun. I should take down the make and model of the car. I should run to my truck to follow as they flee, but I don’t because every natural instinct has me turning toward my son. Nothing else matters.
When I finally break free of the crowd and get to Ty, I find a woman leaning over him. Her hands are on his chest, applying pressure to the wound to stop as much bleeding as she can. She reaches up, pressing two fingers underneath his chin as she checks for a pulse, and we both breathe a sigh of relief when she finds one.
“Come on buddy, stay with me,” she whispers, pushing a wisp of blonde hair out of his eyes. I’m frozen with fear, hardly able to look at him lying here as my heart stabs with pain. This can’t be happening. Not again. I can’t lose my son.
I need to do something. I’ve dealt with gunshot wounds before, but my mind can’t seem to process it, and the helplessness is eating me alive.
I fall to my knees next to Ty and the woman notices me for the first time.
“Is this your son?” she asks, glancing up at me. Her tone is even, almost calm, as she keeps her hand on Ty’s wound. I hear her words, but a verbal response feels like an insurmountable task right now, so I just nod.
“I’m a doctor at St. Luke’s. He’s going to be okay, but I need you to call an ambulance. We need to get him to the hospital.”
Her mention of the hospital jerks me back to reality. She wants me to call an ambulance, but I can’t do that. St. Luke’s is where Talia died. I can’t take him there. I can’t take him toanyhospital; that will only make us easier targets. I need another plan and fast.
I finally find my voice. “No. No hospitals.”
“Are you crazy? We need to get him to a hospital so he doesn’t bleed out. The bullet is still inside of him.” The woman looks at me as if I’m speaking another language.
Fuck. She’s right.
Sirens fill the air and any time I have is quickly disappearing. We can’t stay here, but if I don’t get Ty help, then he could die. With police and hospitals clearly out of the question, I need an alternative.
All of a sudden, it hits me.
“You said you’re a doctor, right?”
“Yes, but—”
Without thinking, I pull the gun out of my waistband, pointing it in her direction.
“Wh-what are you doing?” the woman stutters, eyes wide as she pulls back.
“You’re coming with us,” I growl, keeping the gun on her with one hand while I scoop Ty up into the other. The car isn’t far away and I edge her toward it with a jab of my pistol to her ribs.
She moves compliantly, but not without a soul searing glare in her eyes. “You can’t do this.”
“Shut up!” I try to control my breathing and get a hold of myself. Ty’s life depends on me…and her.
Ty stirs slightly in my arms, a quiet moan escaping his lips. “Daddy…”
“It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got you. Everything is going to be fine.”
