Chapter 1: Don’t Take The Girl (Tim McGraw)
POV: WILLIAM
No, no, no,… NO! This cannot be happening. No, not again! I can’t lose another love again. My heart won’t survive… I won’t!
Flashback hits me…
I am sitting on a rickety plastic chair in the waiting room outside of the surgery ward, with my elbows on my knees, my hands holding my face, a broken man. Sobs wracked my body like waves crashing against the shore, each one tearing through me until I could barely breathe. I am not embarrassed by any onlookers’ judgment; let them have their souls ripped out and shredded, and see how they are holding up. The doctor just left me with the news that hit me like a sledgehammer, my knockout. The love of my life, my Ellie, died. She was fine, happy, and smiling at our beautiful little girl. Suddenly, my angel, my everything, was gone.
One moment, we were in the delivery room, and Ellie was smiling, not caring about the sweat on her brow or the disheveled state of her hair from hours of labor; she was overjoyed, holding our sweet and beautiful Sydnee in her arms. Sydnee looked just like Ellie with her blond curly hair and bright Baja blue eyes. Where did she get all the hair? I was bald until I was two. I kiss her head, “Thank you, my love, for the gift of our family. I love you so much.”
The next moment, Ellie’s face suddenly paled, her lips blue, and her eyes clouded over like the surface of a frozen lake. Her ghostly face was all I could focus on; I couldn’t even hear the shouts from the medical team surrounding us. Ellie’s weak body gently kissed our little girl’s head and looked up, saying in a feeble voice, “I love you forever. Take care of our loves.” Those were the last words she said before she was wheeled out in a flurry, leaving me stunned, teary-eyed, and panicked, with my sweet Sydnee wrapped in my arms, looking up at me in wonder. My only thoughts were, God, please don’t take her from me… from us.
When the doctors gave me their update, they said they did all they could, but while giving birth to our daughter, Sydnee, she began to hemorrhage. They were able to stop the bleeding, but she lost too much, and they could not bring her back. How? They rattled off some medical terms, but my brain short-circuited, and I only heard the words, “I’m sorry, she didn’t make it.” Was there anything anyone could do? The pregnancy seemed normal; she wasn’t considered high-risk. What happened? How did joy lead quickly to devastation?
I remember sitting in that uncomfortable chair, desperately wanting to go with her. To hold her once again in my arms, kiss her sweet lips. It should have been me, not her. Why did it have to be her? How am I going to raise our children alone? How will they grow up without their mother? I gripped the necklace she always wore tightly in my hands, as if holding it would mean I wouldn’t have to let her go. A necklace that I gave her on our first anniversary when we were dating. She deserved so much more, but she treated this as her greatest treasure. A simple drop pendant with an opal of a variety of blues catching the light, with two gemstones of amethyst and sapphire, our birthstones. She always wanted to add the gemstones of our children to the pendant as our family expanded.
I wanted the darkness to take me, but even though the words never left my mouth, my heart made a promise to Ellie. I could not leave our kids behind. They have always been our center, our world, and I am not going to have them grow up without at least one of their parents. I would pass on her legacy, always keeping her alive in our hearts.
The pain of my loss pressed me down into that chair, and I pulled all the inner strength I could muster, more strength than I ever used in boxing, and I needed it to get back up. For now, I have a mission, and I refuse to fail. Ellie’s Legacy…
It was as if I were stuck in a parallel dimension, repeating the heart-wrenching pain once again. I watched one of Amari’s men, Kicker, examine the door and attempt to turn the doorknob. With no success, he kicks the door of the hinges, and in an instant, the cabin is engulfed in roaring flames, with Cody and my love inside. The impact of the explosion launched Kicker to his back, clothing still smoking from the heat, as Pathfinder is attempting to put out the flames across his body. Our moment of hope and encouragement was wiped out by sheer devastation and agony.
Shouts fill the air as everyone tries to address the scene, but there is no time. Without another moment to lose, I throw my Stetson to the ground and race inside the burning cabin searching for the little boy who stole all our hearts and the woman who has rekindled the love in mine. I can hear everyone shouting my name, telling me to wait or let someone else go in, but it doesn’t even register. There is only one mission on my mind: saving Angela and Cody. I don’t even care if anyone follows me; in fact, I prefer they don’t. They are all young, with so much life to live; they shouldn’t take the risk, and my body is moving on autopilot.
I blast through the doorway, stepping on the broken door lying in front of me. Immediately, I am hit by the immense heat, giving me another flashback of when Olivia set the barn on my ranch on fire, with hopes of killing Phoenix, Sydnee’s prized horse. Even being trapped under a beam felt less treacherous than this torched cabin. It feels like an oven set to the highest degree as the hairs on my arms start to singe. However, nothing feels like the panic brewing inside me. Flames are crawling everywhere: the curtains, the solitary old coach in the center of the small cabin, and every wall. There is an old stove across the couch, a little kitchenette, and one window.
Not much to the cabin, most likely used for hunting. Wonder who owns it? Did these jackasses own the property, or did they just command it like the criminals they are? Looking down, I notice there is a large man dressed in all black lying on the floor, who seems knocked unconscious with a poker lying next to him. I hope Angela had given him a good hit.
“There’s a man here!” I shout over my shoulder, not caring if anyone heard me.
Not wasting time checking if the captor is alive while the little cabin burns red hot, I move on without any ounce of guilt. They harmed my family, and the guy is getting off easy, in my opinion. I heard more shouts from our crew. Orders of how to contain the fire, but not looking back to even noticing who is fighting the fires around me, I just keep going.
I noticed the stairs and the flames crawling up the walls, seeking oxygen on the top floor. Although I knew how stupid it was, I managed to crawl them up, continuing my search for Cody and Angela. The room was small, with only a double bed in the center, and it, too, was on fire. The floorboards under my feet are hot with each step I take. I know that every step could cause the boards to break with the burning on the other side. Both sides of the little room have a solitary window, one open and one closed, with flames licking the window frames. I crossed over to the open window, hoping I would see my love safe on the ground.
“Ahhh.. shit, that hurt!” I couldn’t help but shout, not realizing the heat of the metal of the window frame was like a branding iron against my skin.
Not willing to let the pain stop me, I frantically searched out the window. There is about a foot of roof overhang from the exterior walls around the house. Enough to slide out on, but nowhere to climb down. Glancing around, I see nothing but forest, brush, and snow. The canopy is dense, making it hard to see the forest floor. Angela and Cody are nowhere to be seen… they aren’t here.
Oh, thank the Lord!
“They are not here!” I shout repeatedly. For the briefest of moments, I had hope.
Where could they be? Were they even here? If so, did they escape or were they taken somewhere else? Did someone tip them off? Did one of our own tip them? Thoughts and questions flood my mind on all the scenarios that could have transpired, until reality hit me… I am standing here in a burning cabin about to die.
Shit! I’ve got to get out of here.
I start to carefully walk across the floor, as lightly as a 6’ husky man can tread. Regretting the years of bodybuilding muscle for boxing. I try to aim along what I hope are beams, praying for added support. The cabin continues to burn, and the heat is flowing up the stairs and out the open window. I am pretty sure any hair on my head or eyebrows has been singed off. If I wait any longer, the house is going to come down, and me with it.
Just as I was about to reach the stairwell, the floor beneath me gave out, and I plummeted to the ground below, landing flat on my back on something bumpy and hitting my head hard. Letting out a groan, I attempt to figure out what caught my fall, realizing it was the body I had left at the base of the stairs. Damn, this is worse than a rookie KO in the ring. All I can hear surrounding me, besides the roar of the fire, are more muffled shouts coming from deeper within the burning structure. No idea what they are saying or what they are telling me to do, my body won’t move, and my brain won’t function. Several arms surround me, and my weak body becomes lifted as if I am being carried out. Not long after the darkness took me like a suffocating blanket, I felt a strange sense of calm descend upon me.
