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I’m only wearing a T-shirt. Still, the beads of sweat run down my forehead and spine. I grab my stomach, holding in another swear word. After tapping on his name in my contact list, I put the phone on speaker, praying for him to pick up.
“Come on, you asshole,” I groan through clenched teeth. Turning on the bed, I slump to the floor.
When I get his voicemail, I try to find my voice. “Rone I—” Yelling out in pain again, the light-headedness takes over. “I don’t feel so good. I’m afraid something is wrong.” My arms are trembling. “I think I need to go to the hospital,” I say before taking another shaking breath. The voicemail beep cuts me off.
“Why is this happening?” I whisper, biting back another groan when something warm moves between my thighs. Streams of blood are leaving a red trail on my naked legs. “No, please God.” The tears are flowing freely now. And I feel dizzy, like I haven’t drunk or eaten in days.
“I need to get help,” I groan out, slowly pulling myself up by the bed before falling backwards on the ground.
Slipping through his vomit, I hit the floor with a dull thud and another sharp pain pierces my side.
Fear takes over. Why isn’t he here to tell me everything is going to be all right? Why is he always somewhere else when I need him the most?
I exhale long and slow, turning on my side and clutching my legs against my stomach. My face is wet from the tears. Why isn’t he here?
I try to call out his name but every time I open my mouth, only a whisper escapes. Reaching for my phone, I know I need help and quickly. Hitting the emergency button, I wait until a calm voice on the other end of the line asks for my name and everything fades to black.
Someone is shaking me. “Hold on, Allie, they’re coming. Please, baby. K-keep your eyes open,” Navarone stutters, his handsome face contorted in pain. His shirt is off and he is applying pressure against my sex with it.
“Rone,” I whisper. “You came back.”
“That’s right, honey. Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. Stay with me. They’re coming,” he pleads, holding me in his arms and kissing my forehead. “Promise me.” His voice is shaking. “I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry,” he repeats. More blood runs over his hands with every breath I take.
Paulie runs into the room. “What the fuck is all that shouting? Christ,” he says when he sees me, and crouches next to Rone. “Have you called nine one one?” Paulie’s voice seems far away.
Rone nods, shaking me as my eyelids start to droop.
“Navarone, I’m bleeding,” I whisper.
“I know, honey. Fuck, when are they coming?” he shouts.
Everything feels heavy. The sirens in the distance grow louder.
“Allie, promise me. Hold on.” He breaks in front of me, tears barreling down his cheeks.
“I promise,” I say, shivering. “I will always love you,” I whisper.
His dark eyes are the last thing I see before the bright lights take over and I let go.
