Chapter 136

“Get on the bike.”

I didn’t want his words and the fear they brought to be the last thing I experienced on Earth, but it seemed as if that might be my fate. The memories over, my life at its end, I was left with only the crunch of plastic, chrome, and metal, the stench of leaking fuel, grit in my mouth and nose, pain all over, and the taste of blood to fill my senses. I’d survived a deployment to a war zone, yet before and after, for nearly two decades in all, I feared my relationship with Tom would be the death of me. Damn if it wasn’t coming true.

“I see the light, Jefferson.”

I saw it, and I heard the cardinal.

“A-a-ma-z-i-ing grace. Ho-ow sweet the sound.”

I stood and walked toward the sight and the sound, collapsing again the moment I entered the new place, because I was weak from the crash. “Jefferson?”

“Yes.”

An angel made sense. 6

It was then I saw the meadow, the rainbow, the animals, and my Patrick.

“The choice to stay or go back is yours right now, Goose.”