I rip off the strap on my Ric, tossing it aside with little care.
My head is still foggy, almost like I’m swimming underwater, but I dart around my mic stand, beelining for Cove.
The others have noticed something is wrong. The audience has too, by their expressions. It ripples through the crowd like a wave, and a few fans hit their feet. Maybe they think they can catch her, but the partition and security guards would prevent that.
Cove stumbles forward, taking out her mic stand in the process. The screech of feedback is shocking, but I have bigger fish to fry.
If she edges any closer to the front of the stage, she’ll take a header right off. It’s not that the fall would kill her, but it wouldn’t feel great. There’s every possibility that she could break a bone or give herself a concussion, and if she fell wrong, it could end up being even more serious.
I launch forward, hooking my arm around her middle, but I’m not prepared for her to fall forward as dead weight.
I have a split second to make the call.
If we’re going over the edge of the stage, I’m cushioning her fall.
There’s no question about that.
Pushing off with my heels, I spin, pulling Cove’s back to my chest and rotating.
Throw yourself back toward the stage,the whisper reminds me.
Doing exactly that, I sling us back toward the stage with every bit of upper body strength I possess. My right arm and leg fly over the edge, and I briefly consider tossing Cove back onto the stage. I could probably land without too much difficulty if I’m not trying to manage her dead weight.
My eyes widen as Declan appears.
My left foot slips around the edge of the stage, looking for purchase, but he grabs my left arm, pulling us to safety just in time.
Cove’s guitar slams against his chest, and she wobbles between us. The way her head lolls around is concerning as fuck, and my heart beats dangerously fast.
I meet Declan’s eyes, and his mouth hangs open.
Holy fuck.
We need help.
Now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Declan
The next few hours are chaotic. Dr. McMillan met us backstage and immediately went to work, checking Cove’s vitals. He made the call to bring her to one of the private omega clinics rather than a standard ER. It was not a call I agreed with, but I’m not the omega specialist, so I kept my mouth shut.
I also wasn’t aware this place had its own version of an emergency room. By the time we arrived, the staff was waiting. Apparently, McMillan called in a favor to a colleague, and they immediately got Cove hooked up to a variety of machines.
Her blood pressure was low, and she was dehydrated. Other than that, and a slightly elevated heart rate, nothing was out of the ordinary.
I’ve paced the entire waiting room bare, and I’m at the point I’m about to climb out of my skin. I ache to punch something, but that wouldn’t truly help.
Ravvi put a call in to Cove’s family, so they would hear the news before seeing it online. Cove hadn’t even had the chance to tell them she bonded Ravvi and Damian. They know now. From what I overheard of the conversation, they wanted to fly out toChicago. Ravvi was able to talk them into staying put for now, but depending on what the doctors say…
They might need to make the trip.
Dr. McMillan made it seem like her condition wasn’t serious, but it sure as fuck feels that way to me. She was conscious during the ambulance ride, but I only heard about it secondhand from Ravvi.
He said she was confused and embarrassed. Though, she knew her name, what city we’re in, and the month. Truthfully, without checking my phone, I would probably have to guess about the exact date too.
Damian kicks his foot out, blocking my path as I continue to pace the floor bare. “She’s awake. I can feel it in the bond. It shouldn’t be too much longer. She’s as anxious to see us as we are to see her.”
