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“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.
I waited to break.
To plummet into hysterics.
But all I felt was numb.
Terribly, horribly numb.
Bending over him, I stroked his cheek. “Aslan, baby. Please, open your eyes. We have to go home now.”
“Go?!” The driver choked. “He’s unconscious. He’s probably dead. He can’t go anywhere.”
My voice was ice and eerily calm. “We can’t be here when the ambulance arrives. I need to get him home.”
The guy’s eyebrows shot up. “He needs a doctor.”
“He can’t see one.”
He shook his head as if he believed he’d run me over as well. Pure panic etched his face. Crawling toward me, he winced as he pressed two fingers to Aslan’s blood-smeared throat. He held my stare as he waited for his pulse.
In some foggy part of me, I screamed and tried to shake myself awake.
I should be doing that.
