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A muscle pulsed in Colby’s cheek. “Sariah, you’re bleeding from multiple injuries.”
“I’m well aware of that, since I’m the one who was there when aforementioned injuries were inflicted,” I snapped at him.
Colby flinched. Actually flinched. I didn’t feel any victory in that. I was trying my best to disconnect from him. His hands on me, his tortured expression... I could not survive thinking about what I looked like in his eyes right now.
“Ri.” My name escaped him in no more than a whisper. “You’re covered in blood… I know you don’t want Violet to see you like this.”
I blew out a heavy breath. No, I didn’t want Violet to see me like this. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. But I’d already had an entire motorcycle club witness my state.
Mustn’t think about what they found.
“Then we will get me some clothes,” I declared through the pain. It was constant now. Part of me.
Colby stared at me, as if he were measuring my resolve.
I didn’t think I looked very strong in that moment, but if anyone tried to stop me from being there for Violet, I’d fight with everything I had. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much left of me right now.
“I don’t like this,” Colby grumbled as we walked into the club.
Well, we weren’t really doing much walking. I was moving my feet, and he was making it look like he wasn’t half dragging, half carrying me Which he was.
“I don’t care what you like or don’t like,” I lied.
His molars crashed together, his eyes shimmering with fury and concern. And something else.
Terror, maybe.
Whatever it was, I knew this was tearing him apart. Seeing me like this, knowing he’d been too late to save me and now he wasn’t even taking me somewhere where they could save my life. I wondered if he could feel that I was slowly dying. Surely not. He would’ve dragged me to the hospital kicking and screaming if that were the case.
I must try to hide the fact that I’m dying.
Hurting him like this wasn’t fair. But then again, life wasn’t fair.
We’d hastily covered me in clothes. I hated the weight of them on my skin. I couldn’t even remember how they got on my body, couldn’t for the life of me remember where they got them from. I suppose that didn’t really matter.
But I felt bad for the person whose clothes they were. I had stained them with my blood. Luckily, they were black, so you wouldn’t be able to see it from a distance. OR more importantly, if you were in the midst of labor and had other things to concentrate on.
“We’re not hangin’ around,” Colby whispered as we walked down the hall toward the source of the screaming. “She gets a glimpse of you, then we’re goin’ to the fuckin’ hospital.”
“You don’t call the shots here, buddy,” I replied weakly. “It’s the women in charge here, since one of them is bringing life into this world and the other is on her way out.”
Bad joke, but not entirely untrue.
That Colby’s firm but gentle grip on me tightened, and he grabbed my head to turn it toward his face.
“You are not fuckin’ dying, you hear me, Sariah Cardoso?” he growled. “You are stubborn, you are infuriating, and you don’t do anything unless you want to do it, even fuckin’ dying. And you’re not doin’ that.”
I did my best to maintain a stoic expression. “You really think I’m the one who decides whether I live or die?”
“Yes, Sariah, I do,” he hissed, his hands unyielding clamps.
We stayed like that for a while, probably too long considering the situation. I felt a moment of peace then, a moment of hope that everything would somehow be okay.
“I cannot do this!” Violet screamed from Elden’s room.
Our moment was lost. A good thing too. Ruined people like me didn’t get moments. Ruined people like me didn’t get anything.
I fought my way out of Colby’s arms then made a beeline for Violet, fueled by a sudden burst of energy.
Colby cursed as he rushed to catch up with me. Just in time too, since my surge of strength petered out when I made it to the door.
“Bitch, you better fucking do this,” I ordered, looking into the room. Violet was there with a very intense looking Elden along with Kate and a lady who I hoped was a doctor since she was all up in Violet’s vajayjay.
Violet herself looked sweaty, pale, exhausted and in agony.
“If I could escape that sick fuck, you can birth to a tiny baby,” I added, trying to make my voice sound normal, upbeat. To my ears, it sounded like I was playing a part. I was pulling the strings of a corpse that looked and sounded a lot like me.
Violet’s eyes had been squeezed closed, yet they opened when I spoke.
