“I’m sorry, Tiny Dancer, but I promised him.”
The ground disappeared beneath my feet. Or my legs gave out. The steel wire connecting me to Ollie keened to go to him. Stop his pain. Stop the blood. Stop the toll he willingly took on his body to end this nightmare.
Kicking, scratching, fighting-
The door at the end of the hall flew open, drenching the hall in yellow light.
“Jack, help me with her,” Miranda begged.
“Shit,” Jack hissed. The arms constricting me disappeared as he sprinted for his twin and Serina at the same moment Ollie’s victim slumped to the carpet.
Dead.
Glowing silver dimmed, ice blue surrounded in a sea of red.
“I have- to tell- you-” he choked.
His legs gave out, crashing to the floor too.
A raw, unrestrained sound tore from deep within. I was moving, falling to my knees, my hands on his face. Sticky, hot blood smeared under my fingers, embedding in my nails.
“Ollie.”
His name became a chant.
Foam dribbled out of the corner of his lips.
“Roll him on his side.”
Instincts controlled my body. I shielded him from the girl kneeling beside me, reaching for what belonged to me.Protect him. I had to protect him-
“Courtney, he’s choking, please.”
I blinked and blinked, stinging tears blurring my vision. I came back to myself in pieces. Miranda held her hands up in surrender, watching me like I was a cornered animal. Waiting for permission before touching him. Respecting both of us.
I released his face, nodding as she helped me roll him on his side.
“Fuck, what happened?”
Reluctantly, I tore my attention away from Ollie to see Jack rushing our way with Serina limp in his arms, head lolling to the side.
My heart caught in my throat. “Is she-”
“She’ll be ok. The fucker used a tranquilizer on her, she didn’t have time to get her glow out all the way. I couldn’t incapacitate him and get her to safety by myself,” Miranda said through tight lips. She glanced at me, “Take off your shirt, we need to wipe some of this shit away from his mouth.”
Fumbling, I peeled my top off.
“Lift his head a tiny bit- that’s good, Keep him as still as you can. Give me the shirt,” Miranda commanded softly. The steady sound of her voice guided my actions, tears rolling off my chin, down my neck.
“He’ll be ok, right?” Jack demanded, hysteria creeping into his tone as he shifted Serina in his arms.
Miranda ignored him, green eyes focused on cleaning blood and foaming saliva from Ollie’s mouth. My shaking fingers rhythmically combed his sweat-damp hair from his forehead.
“You had to tell me something,” I whispered to his vacant eyes. “Come back and tell me.”
His eyelids shuttered, a low groan emanating from his throat.
“Thank fuck,” Jack sighed with Miranda repeating the sentiment.
