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I’d wake, and Aslan would be beside me.
I’d wake, and this would all be over.
Wake up.
Wake up.
WAKE UP!
The car door opened.
I blinked from my sickening subspace as a cloud of marijuana smoke appeared, staining the night sky. A skinny guy with short black hair and chains dripping off his jeans tripped from the driver’s seat and stumbled to the front of his car. Blood oozed on his temple, and his nose looked broken.
The white pillow of the airbag filled the empty windshield, revealing he’d ploughed into Aslan hard enough to trigger the car’s protocols to take care of its driver.
The Mazda had kept him safe with seatbelts and airbags. Cocooned in a bubble of protection. All while Aslan was thrown through the air, launched by metal, propelled by a vehicle driven by someone high as a fucking kite.
Hate soaked into my ice.
Dangerous, treacherous hate.
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit!” He clutched his short hair, pacing around Aslan and the rubble of his car. “Fuck, is he...?” He toed him, and I lost it.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch him!” I roared.
“He’s dead. Oh fuck, he’s dead.”
“He’s not!” Tears broke loose, pouring down my cheeks. “He can’t be. I can’t—” I looked back down at Aslan, unmoving and silent by my knees. His cheekbone was swollen from fists, his lip split, his shirt torn. He looked as if he’d been shipwrecked again, only this time by glass and asphalt instead of sea and storm.
I fell on his chest.
Listening, begging, pleading.
Wake up, Aslan.
Please, please wake up.
My breath came too loudly. My heart raced too thickly.
I couldn’t hear his.
Couldn’t tell if he was here or gone.
I lost my grip on reality as fear of discovery overrode fear of his passing.
I should’ve let him kill them.
I should never have intervened.
I did this...
My fault.
My fault!
“Aslan, come on, darling. We need to go. We have to go before anyone sees, okay?”
If I could get him back to our place, he’d be fine.
If I could hide him before anyone saw, he’d wake and still be mine.
“Aslan—”
“FUCK!” The guy suddenly bellowed. He bent over and retched, splashing his feet with vomit. He hurled again before tripping backward and fumbling in his pocket. “I-I’m calling an ambulance. I don’t care that I’ll get in trouble. I can’t...I can’t live with this. We need help.” He yanked out his phone, his fingers flying over the screen.
“No!” I yelled. “You can’t.”
They’ll know who he is.
They’ll take him from me.
They’ll kill him—
Every bone in my body splintered into pieces.
Guilt crushed me. Killed me. Strangled me.
“Lady, I have to call. If he’s not dead already, he’s gonna be if I don’t.” His eyes were overly dilated in the brightness of his headlights. The car motor still ran. The night remained eerily quiet. In the far distance, the four guys who’d beaten Aslan rounded the corner and vanished.
I lost myself.
I lost my grip on reality as urgency flooded me.
Shaking Aslan’s shoulders, I commanded, “Come on, Aslan. We have to go.” I bent and kissed his forehead, not caring his blood smeared my lips. I shivered, but I wasn’t cold. My heart skipped and slipped, but I couldn’t get enough air.
I couldn’t breathe properly.
Couldn’t think.
We need to get home.
Home where I can wash his wounds and tend to his bruises. I’ll bathe him and put him to bed, and in the morning, he’ll be fine. You’ll see. This will all be fine.
“Aslan. Get up!”
The driver never stopped pacing, his phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, hi. There’s been an accident.”
“You’re high,” I hissed. “You call for help and they’ll arrest you for driving under the influence.”
The driver flinched, ignoring me. “Yeah, I, eh...I accidentally ran into someone. He’s, eh...he’s not moving.” His voice cracked as he tipped his head down. “I don’t know the street, man. Can’t you just track me or something? Please, hurry. There’s so much blood.”
I blinked and looked at where he stared.
I reared back as truth cut through my fog of disbelief.
Blood.
Everywhere.
I kneeled in it.
Aslan glimmered in it from the headlights.
My hands were covered in crimson.
Noise howled in my ears. White noise. A blizzard. A roaring, snarling—
“Hey. Are you...are you okay?” The guy snapped me back to the worst moment of my life. He balanced on his haunches, reaching to push away my sweaty hair. “They’re on their way, okay? They’ll fix this.”
I shoved away his hand.
This is all my fault.
My fault!
He fell onto his ass, landing in blood. His palm thudded on Aslan’s chest. “Fuck.” Scrambling away, he shook with uncontrollable tremors. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean—” Raking both hands through his short hair, tears rained down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I looked back at Aslan, unresponsive and tangled on the street. His legs were spread but didn’t look broken. His shirt had rucked up his belly, revealing road rash and cuts from the safety glass. A black contusion spread over his ribcage from being struck by the car.
