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Out.
Out.
I need them out.
I hit myself harder, screaming at the pain slashing through my chest. This can’t be happening, not right now. I don’t get flashbacks anymore. I thought these were behind me.
But seeing Kennedy broken, seeing her bloody, it’s like Elaine all over again.
I was almost too late again.
“Ez,” Kennedy says, her voice far away. “Ezra.” A cool, sticky hand slides into mine and I open my eyes.
I stare down at her, my chest heaving. Tears track through the dried blood on her face as she stares back at me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, choking on the same words. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.” She nods. She nods just like Elaine had, and I wince, squeezing my eyes shut again.
Is she about to die in my arms too? Am I about to lose her?
My shame chokes me. I failed them, the two people I should’ve never failed.
“You came,” she rasps. Some of the haze in my mind dissipates.
Different words. Different people. Different night.
The Crossroads fade in around me, reminding me that I’m here, in California, not New Zealand. I’m with Kennedy, the love of my life, not my sister.
“Of course,” I say, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’ll always come for you.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, but I shake my head.
“Don’t,” I whisper as I stroke her hair. “Don’t apologize for anything. We both said and did shit we shouldn’t have. But I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I have you.” Her chin wobbles. “Can I pick you up?” She tries to nod again, and winces. “Did he hit your head?”
“Yes,” she breathes, the word slurred.
It takes all I have not to spiral again. But with her hand still around mine, I force myself to stay here with her.
“Can you hold on to me while we’re on my bike?” I ask, my thumb smoothing over her forehead. She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath, then nods.
My heart breaks for her.
She’s strong, even now, even broken and bruised and bloody, she’s pushing through it. She’s stronger than I am, than I ever will be.
I press a soft kiss to her forehead, letting it linger before I pull away and slide my arms under her. She hisses through her teeth as I lift her, cradling her to my chest.
This wasn’t the way I saw my night going. I never thought I’d be holding her like this.
Her head rests against my chest, her body limp in my arms, as I leave the bar, not caring enough to clean up. I’ll call Otis or Spence on the way home and let them know what happened, and that I’m going to fucking kill them for ever leaving her there alone.
Then I’m hunting Milo down. That fucker should’ve been there with her. This should’ve never happened.
When I get to my bike, I pause. There’s no way she can hold on to me while we ride.
“I need to move you,” I murmur. She barely nods, her face scrunching in pain. “Can you wrap your arms around my neck?” She takes another deep breath like she’s readying herself, and slides her arms around me. I shift her body to my front, putting her chest against mine and her legs around my waist. She lets out a whimper of pain, her face pressing into my neck, and it breaks me. Tears burn the back of my nose as I listen to her small whimpers and heavy breathing. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.”
She doesn’t say anything—there’s nothing for her to say. She just tightens her hold on me, squeezing my waist with her legs. That’s all I’ll get from her, and it’ll have to do.
I slide onto my bike, still holding her in front of me, one arm wrapped around her waist as I grip the handlebar with my other. I shift the bike, kick the stand up, and press a kiss to her bloody cheek.
