EVERYTHING WAS RINGING— ABSOLUTELYEVERYTHING. Cara Valentine couldn't hear a thing except for the sound of thunder roaring in the distance. And it sounded lightyears away.
All was a hazy blur in shades of grey, red, and black. She could feel her body moving forward, feet trudging slowly. Then, as if time had finally caught up and slammed into her, she stumbled around the SUV and ran to Owen's side. The ringing was fading. Her vision came into focus, and she dropped to her knees.
"Owen, Owen, Owen," she breathed, grabbing at him desperately. Resting his head in her lap, she pressed her hands to where the shot hit him in the neck. The bullet had gone straight through the skin. "Hey, look at me. Look at me."
Owen's eyes drooped as he struggled to meet her tearful expression. The corners of his blood-covered lips tugged upward. "Lyn..." he coughed hoarsely, blood bubbling from his mouth and running down his cheeks.
"Shh shh," Cara shushed him, shaking her head. "Don't talk, don't talk. Just look at me, okay?"
Uneven, shallow, and slow breaths barely left his lips, and he blinked, unable to speak. He could feel more blood creeping up his throat, and it burned. Time was running out for him, and he knew it. So, using his last shred of strength, Owen reached up and placed his cuffed hands on her cheeks. He was trembling as he wiped away a tear, unintentionally smearing blood on her skin.