A satisfied grin takes over my face, and the haze around my eyes starts to fade.
“No! What did you do? What did you do?” Reaper yells in my ear, and the flurry of chaos whips me back into reality.
I blink, the sweat stinging my eyes, and when I come back to real life, I see Sarah in front of me, hands cupped over her stomach, and blood spilling from her mouth. “No,” I whisper. “No!” I shout and lurch for her, but Reaper pushes me away as he catches Sarah as her knees buckle.
“Sarah, I’m… I’m-I’m so sorry. I didn’t …. know it was you.” I fall to the ground, and Reaper holds his hand over the knife, surrounding the wound, but blood flows in thick streams over his hand. “Is she going to be okay?” The tears that leak from my eyes make sense now. “Doc! Doc, please, help her.”
Everyone is screaming. The ol’ ladies are crying, and Reaper is crooning to Sarah, telling her to hang on. Maizey is screaming, the dogs are barking, but all I can see is Sarah’s eyes as they grow glassier and more vacant.
“You can’t die, okay? You can’t die, Doll. I need you here. I need you more than fucking anything, please,” Reaper begs her, holding her limp body.
“Reaper,” she gasps. “Don’t—” Sarah wheezes. “Don’t blame—”
“Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t talk. Just focus on breathing for me, okay? That’s all I need you to do.”
Doc swings open the basement door, and a few of the kids from NOLA run up the steps, chuckling until they see Sarah. She’s the only real mother here, and they immediately burst into tears.
“Get them out of here! Get them out!” Reaper orders, slinging a bloody hand in the air.
Slingshot gathers the two boys and ushers them down the hall where the gym is. Tank follows, along with Braveheart. Bullseye still has a tight grip on my arms, but he doesn’t need to worry about holding me.
“Sarah,” I crawl toward her just as Doc squats and evaluates her.
“Don’t move the knife. I need it to stay inside. It’s helping her not to bleed out.”
“Not bleed out! Look at the blood. She is bleeding out. I can’t lose her, Doc; I can’t lose her. Please,” Reaper begs, and the only time I ever see the Prez tear up is when Sarah’s life is jeopardized. “Save her.”
Doc slides his arms under her and stands, disappearing down the steps where his operating room is.
Reaper is on the ground, sliding his hand through the blood on the floor. Her blood. It’s the first time I feel sick at the sight of it. I want to puke.
“If she dies, I’ll kill you, Tongue.” Reaper’s cold eyes land on me and fear seeps into my core. I’m not afraid of anything, but right now, I have every reason to be. “I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to your fucking swamp kitties. You hear me, Tongue?”
“I didn’t know. I-I didn’t know it was her. I thought…”
“I don’t give a fuck what you thought!” Reaper launches himself at me, wrapping his blood-soaked hands around my throat and squeezing.
“Get off him, Reaper! He didn’t know. It’s our fault. It’s our fault. Doc told us to stop,” Tool tries to pull the Prez off me with his good arm, but it isn’t enough. I’m not going to fight Reaper to survive.
“He was in a flashback; it was an accident,” Bullseye defends me.
“Don’t,” I wheeze through choked and broken breaths. “Make … excuses.” I cough, letting my hands fall to the floor in defeat.
“No.” Poodle opens a journal and shoves it in Reaper’s face. “Let him go.” Poodle comes to my defense.
Reaper stares at the journal and let’s go of my neck, snatching it from Poodle’s hand. The blood from his fingers transfers to the paper, and a tear falls down his cheek. “Go to her,” Reaper says, laying the journal flat against my chest. “I don’t want you here for a while. When you come back, you’ll get your punishment.”
I’ll take whatever he decides to give me.
I deserve it after that. There is no forgiveness in killing my best friend.
I’ll go.
And this time, I won’t come back.
“Daphne? Daphne? Oh my god, thank goodness you’re awake. I’ve been worried sick,” my Aunt Tina says, sitting next to the hospital bed and waking me up by brushing my hair. It takes me a minute to realize where I am. “I got on the first flight I could when