My Wife's Choice That Nearly Killed Me

“Want to ask for help?” Liora sneered.

“Crack!”

I heard the metal casing of my phone crush beneath her heel, the device warping and the delicate electronics inside scattering uselessly. My vision darkened, the world narrowing.

I couldn’t die—not yet.

I’d taken a first aid course in college; I knew my body better than anyone now.

Curled in the cold, muddy water, I twisted my body into a position that eased the pressure and bleeding around my kidneys.

Breathing slow and steady, I fought the relentless waves of pain crashing over me.

Liora’s expression twisted as she saw I was still fighting.

Gareth’s voice crackled again from the car’s screen.

“Liora, my asthma attack was agonizing. How could he possibly hold on this long?”

“He should have collapsed by now.”

“Yes. He shouldn’t have been so relaxed.” Liora nodded grimly.

She spun and pulled a white first aid kit from the car, throwing it roughly on the ground.

A woman stepped forward—a nurse’s uniform at odds with the rough crowd, her face blank and unreadable.

“He’s held on too long,” Liora said coldly. “Give him furosemide and saline.”

My pupils shrank with panic.

“Liora, you’re insane!” I screamed with everything I had left.

“My kidneys are failing! That will speed electrolyte imbalance—and cause cardiac arrest!”

The fake nurse knelt silently, opened the kit, and expertly drew a clear liquid into a syringe.

The needle gleamed cold as it pierced my arm.

“No—”

The drug was forced into my vein.

Suddenly, my heart stopped—then thudded violently, as if it might burst through my chest.

Air was ripped from my lungs.

My muscles spasmed uncontrollably.

My body arched sharply in the icy mud and water before collapsing heavily, bouncing on the ground.

Liora watched me writhe, lips turning blue, her tone eerily calm.

“Gareth convulsed the same way struggling for breath.”

The drug coursed through my veins.

My heart stuttered and stopped again.

Violent, pounding pain threatened to rip my chest apart.

Breath fled from me.

My muscles jerked spasmodically.

My body flailed in the freezing mud before crashing down.

My vision blurred—and I saw my mother.

She lay frail on a hospital bed, holding my hand, her breath shallow.

“Silas... live well... and see the world for me...”

No.

I couldn’t die—not now.

I hadn’t kept my promise.

I bit my tongue hard, pain sharpening my clarity.

With trembling fingers, I scraped the muddy ground until I touched something sharp—gravel.

I clawed toward the nurse who’d injected me.

“Ah—!”

She screamed, jerking back as the jagged stone cut deep into her arm, bone visible through the wound.

“You dare resist!”

Liora’s face contorted with rage as she kicked the stone from my hand.

Then her eyes locked on mine—and something strange flickered across her lips: a smile.

“Silas, didn’t you say your greatest wish was to donate your corneas after death? To help others?”

Those had been my sincerest words, full of love.

Gareth’s voice echoed on the screen, bright with excitement.

“Liora, I know someone whose mother is waiting for a cornea donor!”

“Okay.”

Liora’s smile was brilliant—yet cruel, like a blade glinting in the dark.

“You’re going to die anyway, so why not make a contribution now?”

She tilted her head toward the thugs.

“Hold him down.”

“Take his corneas off!”

“Liora! How dare you!”

I roared like a cornered beast, eyes bloodshot and wild.

Several thugs closed in, grim smiles on their faces. One brandished a fruit knife, its cold blade catching the dim light.

They pinned my limbs with brutal strength, the knife’s tip inching toward my eye.

Just as it was about to pierce—

“Bang!”

The parking garage’s rolling door exploded open with deafening force.

Black cars tore in, and sharp-suited men leapt out—fast, precise, lethal.

The thugs were overwhelmed instantly, screams piercing the chaos.

The leader rushed over, stripped off his coat, and wrapped it around me.

“Sir! Quinn is late—he deserves death for this!”