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“I’m—sorry.” She panted. “I wanted to be—better—for you.”
“It’s okay, baby.” I leaned forward to kiss her between the eyes. “It’s okay. I just want you to stay with me—please stay with me.”
“Get her to the truck.” Reaper yelled. “Get her to the hospital. I’ll handle this.”
“How are you getting back?”
“I’ll manage, go.”
Without being told again, I scooped her into my arms and rushed her to the truck.
Everything that happened afterward was a blur. I didn’t care what happened as long as she was okay. But I knew in order for that to happen, I had to get her to a hospital and fast.
Somehow, I managed to get her safely to the hospital and went rushing inside the place with her in my arms. At this point, she was unconscious, and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
Thankfully, they took her immediately, but they wouldn’t let me go in with her.
“Doctor, please!” I called.
“She needs surgery immediately!” He told me. “Don’t worry, we have the best people with her. I’ll let you know when we know something more.”
I wasn’t sure how long I was pacing the waiting room, covered in her blood before Hank and Swede came rushing in.
“How is she?” Hank asked.
“She’s in surgery.” I reported.
“Daniel.” Hank called my name.
All I did was pace the other way until he caught my shoulders and shook me.
“I need you to breathe.” Hank told me. “You can’t fall apart right now because she’s going to need you to be strong, got it.”
“How?” I demanded. “I should have been with her, but she was so fast. Where’s Reaper?”
“Bear went to pick him up.” Swede reply. “Don’t worry about that now. We got it covered.”
At some point, Sadie entered with a bag which she handed to me.
“Go clean up.” Sadie told me.
“I’m not leaving her.” I tried handing it back.
“You’re not leaving her.” Swede pointed out. “It’s only for a moment.”
“I can’t.” My voice cracked.
“If the doctor comes out before you get back, we’ll come find you.” Hank promised.
“You can’t be covered in blood when she wakes up.” Sadie told me. “She’s only going to worry. Go wash up and change.”
They had a point.
Though I didn’t want to, I carried the bag and allowed Hank to walk me into one of the men’s room. I peeled off my blood-soaked shirt, bundled it up and tossed it into a nearby garbage can, then stood there with the water running. It was my way of trying to get her blood off my palms and out from under my nails.
It took a while—even when the blood was physically gone, I could still see it.
When my fingers burned from the scrubbing, I used the washcloth in the shopping bag to clean myself up.
