Lines Drawn (Drawn to You #2) - Ker Dukey Page 0,65

My cell rings, causing us both to startle. “It’s Mum calling back.”

“Answer it,” he whispers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. Is everything okay? We had lots of missed calls. I was answering the front door. No, David, it’s Antonia. What?”

I breathe a sigh of relief to hear her voice.

“Mum, what is it?” She’s distracted and talking to Dad and someone else.

“Oh, sweetheart, some good news. They’ve found James. What do you mean?” She drifts off, talking to whoever’s there.

Gavin pushes my apartment door open and the world stops. My cell clutters to the floor as I collapse to the ground and crawl over to where Finlay lays in a pool of blood.

There’s so much blood. Too much. I’ve seen this much blood before; Richard, when he was murdered in front of me at our shop. That monster cut his throat with total disregard for what he was taking from the world, and his blood soaked into me, just like now, only this time it’s different. This is Finlay’s blood.

I can’t lose him, not like this. Not because of me.

“Finlay! Stay with me! Please God.” My hands shake uncontrollably as I try to stop the life from leaving him… leaving me.

Willing him to be okay is a fool’s errand, yet my soul screams for him not to leave me all the same.

Fat, salty drops leak from my eyes, dripping my fear onto the perfect white flesh of his face. Penetrating green pierces me through the blur of my tears, and I see his own sorrow, crystalized like jade, staring back at me.

“I’m sorry. I love you.” He gurgles as his body becomes limp in my arms. His head lolls and crimson stains taint his lips.

All we are, everything we’ve been through, has brought us to this moment; him dying because of me.

I was right; we’re destruction for each other.

All the good, the love, the lust, doesn’t justify the pain, sorrow, and turmoil.

My heart bleeds through the holes left from our chaotic past.

His breathing shudders, causing his chest to concave.

Fear almost stops my own breathing. This can’t be real.

Acid burns over my tongue; the room expands and fades.

Gavin is saying things but it’s distorted and distant. Focusing my eyes on his lips, I urge myself to hear him. I’m losing myself; my soul is trying to flee so it doesn’t have to face the reality of what it’s witnessing. Darkness begins to drag me away.

“An ambulance is coming. Stay with us, Fin. Fuck,” Gavin barks, and I’m dragged back to the now. Gavin’s hand comes over mine, pushing down on the wound with me.

Our eyes meet, and I can see the defeat alive in his, and the grief crushing his features.

He knows the blood in Fin’s mouth means internal injuries.

We’re going to lose him… I can’t… I’m not ready.

He’s too cold. Oh God. Sobs strangle me and I’m suffocating.

A scream, raw and rabid, rips from my chest.

Jackson has taken so much from me, I refuse to let him take more.

“He’s not breathing. Fuck, he’s not breathing!” Gavin cries.

No. No.

I lay him flat and tilt his chin. “You do compressions, I’ll blow.”

Clarity comes over me like a still balm. We need to keep him alive.

Time passes and we work on Finlay together. Every breath I breathe into him raises his chest. A ruckus outside the door is followed by voices, and finally the paramedics rush in and take over.

Blood coats every inch of me. Gavin and I look at each other, on our knees, covered in crimson life. We stare in silence, knowing we share something that no one will ever understand. He killed for me.

“We have another one over here.”

What?

Gavin’s eyes widen and he jumps to his feet and rushes over to where the other paramedic is standing.

“Mary,” he breathes.

No. Mary. No.

“There’s no blood.” I can’t move. I can’t look, it’s all too much.

“She has a steady pulse.”

A sob consumes me and I curl into myself, holding on so I don’t float away.

“Gaby’s at her mom’s,” Gavin barks through the fog of my sorrow. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he calls to me, lifting me from the floor and into his arms.

12 months later

EVERYTHING IS FULLER, MORE real to touch, solid.

I’m not sure if it’s that I now just take my time with things. I’m not really sure of anything anymore, and that’s okay.

Fear is a powerful force and it can paralyze and make you run, or strengthen and make you rise. I choose the latter.

Embracing the gentle breeze kissing over me, I breathe it in, allowing