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“I’ll be right here.” I promised her. “I won’t leave you.”
Jamie hauled me up, basically supporting my weight as he moved us back so the men could get to work. I slumped into him, watching every move they made.
When they carried her off on a stretcher I started after them.
“Is that her phone?” Ryan asked, pointing to the facedown device in the corner at the bottom of the stairs.
I went and snatched it up, noting the shattered screen and how only half of it lit up. Her lock screen flickered—well, some of it—and a sob caught in my throat.
It was a photo of us.
She was smiling, her brown eyes lit with laughter and cheeks full of color. A far cry from the lifeless, pallid girl strapped to a stretcher as they carried her out the door.
Regret rocked me, quaking me so bad that I swayed on my feet.
Ryan and Jamie moved in on each side, Jamie slipping an arm around my waist. “We got you, bro.”
“But who has her?” I echoed, the ache in my chest threatening to split me in two.
“You.”
I glanced at Rush who was standing with Lars at the bottom of the stairs. He nodded encouragingly. Something about his assuredness reminded me of my own. I nodded back and straightened, jogging out of the stairwell and into the hall.
Prism was trailing along behind the paramedics, and I jogged forward, sliding the keys to my Audi into his hand. “I know you don’t like to drive, but will you bring my car to the hospital?”
“Of course.” He agreed without an ounce of hesitation. He was a good guy. My best friend.
“Thanks, P,” I said, a lump forming in my throat.
“She’s going to be okay,” he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“Yeah.” I agreed, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Jess wouldn’t leave us, P. She likes to boss us around too much.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a sad attempt at a smile. We were both hella worried. Both trying to be strong. “You should go with her,” he whispered.
“You’ll be at the hospital?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
I glanced behind us, catching Ryan’s eye. “We’re all coming.”
“I’m coming with you!” I called, jogging ahead to the paramedics and holding open the door as they carried out my girl.
They loaded her into the back of the ambulance, and I climbed in right after. I sat as close as I could, reaching over to lace my fingers with hers.
The hoodie I’d been using to staunch the bleeding wound was long gone, replaced by some gauze and direct pressure from the medic. I frowned at where he touched her, leaning close.
“I’ll do that,” I said, reaching for her head.
“It’s better that I do.”
I thought about arguing. Shit, the insults were right there ready to fly free off my tongue. But one glance at the ashen girl between us had me holding back. “Fine.” I agreed, gruff. “But if you do it wrong, I’ll personally unbraid your DNA from the inside.”
The man blinked.
“And then I’ll use it to knit myself some socks.” Damn right, I knew how to knit. P’s gram taught me.
His lips parted, probably to tell me to get out of his ambulance, but I wasn’t about to have it. Pressing my hand over his where it held the gauze, I said, “Pay attention.”
