Slowly, he rises to his feet, his shadow elongated and illuminated red as he trudges over.
When he’s close enough, he lifts his head, his expression a torrent of self-loathing.
Arms crossed, I meet his gaze, willing him to man up and power through. At least until we get the students cleared out.
When he’s close enough to hear me over the chatter from the crowd, I give the students my back and lean in close.
“Keep it together.” I squeeze his neck, trying like hell to keep my voice calm. “Help me get everyone out of here. Then we can go to the hospital.”
Eyes widening, he stumbles back a step.
“Unless you don’t—”
“No,” he insists, the interruption clipped. “We need to be there for her.”
My thoughts exactly.
I don’t bother voicing my fears—that she won’t speak to us, or that we’ll make this worse by showing up.
But being there, whether she wants our support or not, is the only option in my mind.
Sawyer swore she’d never forgive us for this.
I’ll never forgive myself either. But I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try to make this right.
Chapter five
Sawyer
“Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to take a few steps back. Ma’am? Ma’am, please.”
Good grief.
If these paramedics“ma’am”me one more time, I’m gonna lose it.
I’ve given them space. I’m letting them work. I’m doing everything they ask, despite this deeply rooted, incessant need to do more.
Just a minute ago, I stood by helplessly and kept my shit together as one of them ripped Ty’s shirt down the middle and punctured his fucking chest.
I’ll give them space, but I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let them cast me aside or keep me out of the loop.
With a shuddering breath, I hug myself.
Every inch of my exposed skin is speckled with blood. Ty’s blood. My forearms, my chest, and I’m sure my face. The vibrant red flecks look like freckles on my forearms.
Eyes closed, I focus on breathing. I try to look anywhere but at the bloody punctuation marks all over my skin, but it’s damn near impossible.
I hate blood, but I’m going to keep it together, dammit.
Another shudder racks through me, but this one has nothing to do with the cold.
Ihaveto keep it together for Ty.
“What’s happening?” I hover a little closer to one paramedic’s shoulder as they adjust the thick, long needle that looks more like a knitting tool than a medical device.
They arrived just as Ty tried to sit up in my lap. They were steps away when he coughed up a shower of blood and collapsed in my arms.
A flurry of barked orders and quick work on their part helped bring life back into the erratic rise and fall of his chest.
