They smiled, and Luca laughed. “Jesus, Harrison. We’ll be fine, so please stop worrying about us. It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”
Taylor was standing close enough to hit him on the back of the knee with his stick, nearly buckling it. “I’ll take care of Luca until you’re back. You need to stop being so uptight, man.”
Harrison nodded, and the tension he was holding onto finally ebbed away. “Meet me at the gate later then?”
Taylor gave him a salute, and Luca waved.
“Later,” Luca promised. “See you then, Harrison.”
Harrison turned and propelled forward, blades gliding over the ice at a speed that felt like flying. Jett’s arms were wide open, and he waslaughing as Harrison raced for him. And when Harrison crashed into him and twirled them around, he joined in on the laughter.
He washome.
“Jett—”
“Harrison!”
He was slammed back into his body with the force of a meteor strike. His muscles were convulsing, and his lungs were screaming at him for air he desperately needed. He was thrown onto his side, and then water was climbing up his throat, choking him.
Hands smacked his back, and Harrison had no choice but to give in and expel the fluid clogging his lungs. He choked and sputtered, but then he was breathing in air—beautiful fucking air.
The darkness in his vision slowly began to fade, but he couldn’t make sense of where he was. There was snow on the ground, and crackling ice underneath him, but that told him nothing.
“Breathe, Harrison,breathe.”
That was…Jett. Jett was hitting his back, trying to get the rest of the water out of his lungs. The sound of his sobs brought the first pain, like an arrow piercing his heart.
“Oh god, baby.”
Warm hands touched his skin, and Harrison hissed.
“Hold on, help is coming. Please, Harrison, don’t die. I love you, so don’t die. Don’t leave me.”
Die? He was dying?
Harrison tried to recall how and why he was lying in the snow. Was he on the lake? Everything felt so heavy, and he was too numb to understand what was happening, but he knew he was missing something important.
He was flipped onto his back, but he was so dizzy and sick that he had to close his eyes. “Mmm…ohh…”
I’m okay. He was okay.
“Don’t talk,” Jett ordered, and Harrison pried his eyes open, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. “Do not fucking talk. I’m getting you back to the house.”
Harrison was fading. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open.
The last thing he heard was Jett begging him to stay awake, and then darkness swallowed him, sending him spiralling into nothingness.
Jett
Harrison was dying, and Jett didn’t know where Mike was.
After Harrison had led Mike away, Jett took the shotgun and ran to the living room to find his phone. He had to dial 911 three times before the call went through, and his panic made it nearly impossible for the girl on the other end to understand.
What was the emergency?
Well, his ex-friend was having a mental breakdown, and he tried to rape him and kill him with an axe, and now he was chasing his injured boyfriend through the wilderness in a snowstorm.
Address?
