“Stay with us,” I whisper, stepping closer. “Travis, look at me. Please.”
His eyes flutter. They don’t focus.
The portable monitor beeps.
Then it slows.
Beau stands at the foot of the tarp, watching everything. He looks tense in a way I don’t see often.
“Pressure’s dropping,” the assistant says.
“Fluids,” the doctor orders. “Now. Prep blood.”
A needle goes into Travis’s arm. Another line goes in. The doctor moves fast.
Blood starts welling again from one of the wounds.
“Damn it,” the doctor mutters. “He’s bleeding internally.”
My breath turns into a sob I can’t stop.
“No, no, no!” I cry. “Please!”
“I need room,” the doctor says sharply.
“I’m not leaving!” I snap, tears spilling hard now.
Beau steps in, hands on my shoulders, firm. “Brooke. You breaking down doesn’t help him.”
I don’t fight him when he guides me back a step. I can’t take my eyes off Travis anyway.
The doctor inserts a tube. Travis jerks, then goes still.
The monitor slows again.
The beeps spread farther apart.
“Travis,” I sob, and my voice breaks completely. “Please. Please don’t leave me. Please.”
My knees buckle. Beau catches me, holding me upright while I shake and cry. My whole body feels out of control.
The doctor presses two fingers to Travis’s neck. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Stay with me.”
Seconds drag.
Then the monitor stutters.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The rhythm comes back, weak but present.
The doctor exhales once. “He’s still here.”
I cry harder, forehead pressed against Beau’s shoulder, shaking so badly I can barely stand.
