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This is Jess…
I hung up and dialed her again, still opening and closing doors. Still listening. Still feeling my heart lodged in my throat.
The third time I called her, Prism stopped walking a few feet down the hall. My eyes flew to him immediately as he tilted his head and turned to the stairwell door.
He pointed, and I started to run, calling out her name as he shoved open the heavy door so I could rush through first.
“Jess,” I hollered, my voice echoing down the stairwell into the dark. Just as I was about to head down, Prism stopped me.
“Kruger.”
The tone of his voice turned me cold. Trepidation made my feet heavy, but I moved anyway, willing to walk with cement blocks strapped to my feet if I had to.
He was at the bottom of the stairwell heading up, and by the set of his shoulders, I knew what he saw wasn’t good.
Our bodies bumped when I rushed over, a guttural groan ripping right out of me when I saw the body sprawled on the landing above.
One pale arm was flung out, limp fingers dangling over the top step.
I took the stairs three at a time, using my hands to push off the steps as I ran.
I hit my knees beside her motionless body, hands hovering just above her prone form. Scared to touch her. Scared not to.
“Call 9-1-1!” I barked, not taking my eyes off her.
Her hair was falling across her face, concealing her features. My fingers trembled as I reached down to brush the brown strands away, and when I did, my fingertips came away stained red.
I stared almost unseeing at the bright red, dully noticing how warm the sticky liquid felt. Then all at once, the gravity of the situation befell me, and the horror I’d imbibed on drained away.
“Fuck!” I spat, swiping the bloodied fingers across my chest and ripping the hoodie off my body to press it against the wound on her head.
So much blood.
“Get the ambulance here, P! She’s bleeding bad.”
I pressed harder, trying to staunch the blood pouring from her, noting the small puddle on the floor beneath her head.
“Jess, I’m here,” I told her. “You’re going to be just fine. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t say anything, and her cheeks were paper white, lips pale. Her eyelids didn’t so much as twitch when I spoke, and it caused panic unlike anything I’d ever known to whoosh through me like wildfire.
“Don’t you die on me,” I told her, pressing even harder against the wound. “I forbid it. You hear me? I’m not done with you.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed. “I haven’t even started with you yet.”
The door to the stairwell burst in, and I looked up, hoping it was help.
“You found her?” Ryan asked as more Elite piled in behind him.
I turned away from them, sinking onto my ass and scooting as close to her as I could. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t damn near close enough.
Still holding the hoodie against her wound, I slid my other arm beneath her and tugged her into my lap.
Her body was so limp, and it scared me even though I could see her chest rising and falling with air. Needing more reassurance, I lowered my ear to her mouth.
The second I felt the soft putter of her breath, I exhaled in relief and turned my head. Our faces were so close our noses nearly collided. “Just keep breathing, baby,” I whispered. “That’s my girl. Keep breathing. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“How is she?” someone asked, kneeling on her other side.
Threatened, I rumbled in displeasure, the warning low and menacing. My eyes flashed up as I clutched her protectively. Ryan held up his hands, palms out, a gesture meant to show surrender, but I continued to snarl.
