"Don’t let me die."
"I won't. Your mother would murder me next," he said, his biting concern hidden under the offhanded joke. What have I done? I knew I shouldn't have let you go. Goddamn it. With a balled up tee-shirt he pressed his hand to the bleeding wound, doing what he knew to be right.
I should have never let you patch in. I should have never let you be a part of this. I should have let you go. He would never forgive himself for this, and he knew Tara wouldn't.











