As much as we try, Nicole and I can't get enough time together this summer. Before we know it, the summer will end, and we'll head off to college. Neither of us is looking forward to being apart, but we're bound and determined to make time for each other on the weekends.

Dad had to leave the store early for a dinner meeting with a new vendor looking to add their products to our inventory. He left me to close the store.

Finally, the last of the customers exit the store. I let the check-out girl, Emily, go before locking up.

My phone rings as I approach the door. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see a picture of Nicole and me on the screen, causing my lips to turn into a smile.

"Hello, Babe. What's up?"

"Hi, William. Sorry to bother you at work, but I was wondering when you're picking me up for our picnic at the lake tomorrow?"

I think for a moment before responding, "Does 11:30 work for you?"

"That's perfect. Do you have a preference on which suit I should wear?" She asks innocently, but I know there's nothing innocent about her question. She knows which suit I prefer.

"My favorite one, of course. The pink with purple polka dots bikini, but you already knew that."

She giggles. "I'm only making sure it remains your number one choice."

I hear the door open behind me. Shit, I haven't locked the door yet, and now more customers have arrived.

I expel an irritated sigh. "I've got to go, Babe, and tell these customers who came in that the store is closed. I'll call you after I finish closing up. Love you, bye."

"Love you, too. Bye."

I hang up and turn toward the door to find two masked men entering the store. The short, stocky one was aiming a gun at me. I instinctively put up my hands.

The taller, skinny guy spoke first. "We don't want to hurt you, boy; just hand over the cash."

Shorty waves the gun toward the registers, indicating for me to move there. I slowly walk over to register one and punch in my code to open the drawer. My hands are shaking so badly that I'm struggling to get a hold of the cash.

Skinny shoves me. " We don't have all day, you bumbling idiot. Get out of the way."

He grabs a grocery bag and starts stuffing the money into it while Shorty looks for possible witnesses.

Once Skinny has emptied the cash register, he grabs me by the collar and drags me to the second register.

"Open it," he demands.

I punch in my code, and he pushes me aside once again.

My mind is reeling, looking for a way out of this situation. I glance around, trying to find something to bash this asshole's head in.

Shorty must have noticed. "Don't even think about it, boy, or you'll regret it. I'll use this gun to take you the fuck out. Best not tempt me."

To chime in, Skinny stops what he's doing for a moment. "You better believe him because he won't hesitate to shoot a bullet into your skull." After he warned me about Shorty, he returned to his task: robbing us.

Their words don't stop me from making a plan. Dad had a billy club under one of the register's counters. I was too scared to look at the first register and didn't see it at the second one. I'm praying that it's at the third register. If I already missed it at one, I'm doomed.

Skinny cleaned out the cash drawer and pulled me to the third register.

He gets in my face. "You know what to do."

He was so close to me that I could smell the stench of cheap alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It took everything in me not to vomit right there on the bastard.

Losing his patience, Skinny demands, "The code, boy."

While entering the code, I get a peak under the counter. Shit! No billy club.

Shorty speaks up, "Where's the safe? All these kinda places have safes where they stash extra money."

"We don't have a safe," I lie.

Shorty calls my bluff, "Bullshit."

Skinny grabs me by the arm and drags me away from the registers. "Show us where the office is, and let us check for ourselves."

"It's in the back," I confess.

"Give me the keys to lock the door," orders Shorty. "We don't need or want any unexpected visitors."

I reach into my pocket and toss him the keys. While he locks the door, Skinny is already yanking me down aisle four to the back of the store. Shorty quickly follows behind. Well, as quick as he can on those stubby legs.

Once we reach the office, Skinny opens the door and tosses me inside. With Shorty close behind him, I take this opportunity to tackle the men, keeping my eye on the gun. A shot goes off as I reach for the weapon, and I feel a burn through my lower shoulder.

I'm not sure who said, "Fuck! Come on, let's take what we have and get the hell out of here."

I feel Skinny pushing me off him and see him helping Shorty up. They both take off running with the bag of cash.

When I see blood oozing from my wound, I pass out.

It's been an hour, and William hasn't called me back. I'm starting to get worried. My phone rings, and I jump at the sound.

Hoping it's William, I answer without looking at who's calling. "William?"

The voice on the other end was not William but his dad, Bart. "Hello, Nicole. Since you thought I was William, I guess he's not with you?"

My voice drops with disappointment, "No, he's not."

I realize Bart is nervous when I hear his unsteady voice. "Have you heard from him?"

My heart rate increases as I begin to feel nervous as well.

"I haven't. William said he would call me once he told the customers who entered the store that it was closed."

"He should've been home an hour ago," his soft voice speaks more to himself than me.

With a stronger voice, he announces, "I think I better run to the store to ensure everything is okay."

I don't hesitate. "I'll meet you there."

Before he could tell me not to, I hung up.

My parents are already asleep, so I run down the stairs and grab the keys to my mom's car while still in my pajama shorts and a tee shirt.

I have a sinking feeling in my chest. Something's wrong; I know it is.

Moments later, Bart and I pull into the store's parking lot.

He pulls alongside the curb at the store's entrance, and I pull in behind him. The lights in the store are fully lit instead of the dim security lights they usually leave on when the store's closed. I don't shut off the car as we jump out of our vehicles.

His keys are already in his hand when we approach the door, but we find it unlocked with keys still in the door. He looks at me with his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Maybe you should wait out here," he suggests.

Pushing past him, I reply, "No way."

He swiftly comes alongside me, and we call out William's name but get no response.

Bart looks towards the registers, and my eyes follow. When we see the empty cash drawers wide open, we both panic. He runs to the back of the store, with me following behind. All we heard was my bare feet slapping against the tile floor as we ran.
He stopped dead in his tracks, and my momentum caused me to slam into his back. He quickly turned to me with wild eyes glistening.

"Call 911," he commanded.

My mind wasn't grasping what he said at first, and then his words hit me like a brick wall. I violently shook my head and tried to see past him.

He grabbed my face with his hands, and our eyes met.

"Nicole, listen to me. You need to get away from here and call 911 immediately."

His strained, serious voice told me something terrible had happened, so I just nodded and took the phone from his hand. Once I took the phone, he darted into the office, leaving me alone.

I did as he said and dialed 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

It's then I realize that I don't exactly know what the emergency is, so I go with the empty cash drawers he and I saw.

"Hammond's grocery store has been robbed." My throat tightens when I add, "I think something happened to my boyfriend."

The calming voice asks, "Is he conscious?"

I scream into the phone, "I don't know! His dad's with him, and he told me to call 911."

"Okay, you need to calm down. I'm sending help. What's your name, honey?"

"Nicole," I tell her through my tears.

"Nicole, please do me a favor and go to the front door to ensure the emergency team knows where to go?"

"Okay," I whimper.

"Stay on the line till they arrive," she instructs me.

"I can hear the sirens coming," I tell her as I go to the front of the store.

When I reach the front of the store, police and an ambulance arrive.

"They're here," I tell the kind dispatcher, and we hang up.

"This way," I yell as the emergency team runs through the front door.

They follow me to the back of the store and towards the office. What I see before my eyes puts me in shock.

"William!" I scream when I see his father's hands pressing hard against William's shoulder to slow down his bleeding.

The paramedics approach Mr. Hammond. "We have it from here, sir. We'll need you to move."

He doesn't move.

"Sir, we need access to this young man right now," he says while gently placing his hand on Bart's shoulder.

Reluctantly, he puts his son's life into the well-trained hands of the paramedics.

I ran into Bart's arms; he grasped me like a lifeline that he couldn't let go of, or he would drown. I felt the same way, and we both cried when we saw William removed from the office on a stretcher.

The paramedic told us William was stable as he pushed him past us. All I could see was William's pale, beautiful face looking lifeless while another paramedic was using a bag resuscitator on him. I need to see my favorite green eyes gazing lovingly at me again.

The paramedic wouldn't lie to us, would he?

I looked up at Bart; his eyes flooded with tears. I could tell he was questioning the words of the paramedic, too. He grabbed my hand, and we followed the paramedics to the waiting ambulance.

He looked between the ambulance and me, unsure of what to do. Go with his son and leave me alone or take care of me.

"Come on," he said as he took me to the passenger side of his car, opened the door, and ensured I got in. He then went to my mom's still-running vehicle, removed the keys from the ignition, and grabbed my phone that I must've left on the seat. When he returned, he gave me my phone and keys, and we followed the ambulance to the hospital. Bart called his wife, Elaine, while I texted my parents. I knew they were sleeping, but I wanted to ensure they knew what had happened with William and why I wasn't home.

The ambulance arrived at the emergency room entrance. While Bart parked, they removed William from the ambulance and rushed him inside.

We jumped out of the car and ran in. The looks I got from those in the emergency room waiting area made me realize my state of dress: pajamas and no shoes.

He ushered me to a chair and then went to the registration desk to give them William's insurance and personal information. When he returned, he handed me his sweatshirt to cover me up; sadness clouded his features as he went to the restroom to wash his blood-stained hands. When I placed the sweatshirt over my head, I noticed William's blood on the sleeves and lost it.

I felt terrible when he returned, and his face dropped when he saw me.

"Nicole, what happened? Is William okay?"

I tried to contain my emotions, but I could only see William's blood on the sweatshirt.

He followed my eyes to the sleeves. "Shit, Nicole. I'm sorry."

He sat next to me and took my hand in his. "He's going to be okay, Nicole. He has to be."

A/N In case you're wondering, this chapter is all fiction. My hubby has never been shot while closing the store. He did, however, chase a shoplifter and held him down till the police arrived. 😳