Last Mile (Vicious Cycle #3) - Katie Ashley Page 0,99
being lifted up and dragged away. When I came to myself enough to realize what was going on, paramedics were dragging a gurney into the room. “Samantha?” I pushed away from the two men holding me and stumbled over to the desk. “Oh Jesus, Sam,” I moaned.
She lay in a pool of blood with jagged cuts along her arms and legs. The worst were the wounds in her chest and abdomen. Tears seared and burned my eyes like acid as I dropped to the floor beside her. I took her limp hand in mine and brought it to my lips. The metallic taste of blood entered my mouth, and I didn’t know if it was Sam’s or Eddy’s or mine. “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Sir, you have to move so we can work on her.”
No, I can’t leave her. I did this to her. It’s all my fucking fault. But she needed the paramedics. She needed for them to be able to save her life. Once again, they asked me to step aside. I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me, but somehow I scrambled to my feet. Jesus, I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m so fucking sorry.
After one of the paramedics checked her, he said, “She’s holding on, but we have to get her the hell out of here. She’s losing too much blood.”
I watched helplessly as they put Sam’s body on the gurney. “Sir, do you want to ride along with us?” one of the paramedics asked.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I do,” I croaked.
“Then let’s go.”
As the wheels of the gurney rattled along the floor, I fell in step with the paramedics. All I could do on the elevator ride down was pray. I needed her to live more than I’d ever longed for anything in the world. I needed to be able to make things right between us.
Most of all, I needed to tell Sam I loved her.
TWENTY-FOUR
SAMANTHA
My eyelids fluttered as I regained consciousness. When I finally opened my eyes, I realized I wasn’t on the floor of my office. Instead, I was laid out on a hospital gurney in the ER.
The curtain opened, and a doctor stepped inside. “Miss Vargas, I’m glad to see you’ve come around. We’re just about to move you to a room.” He extended his hand, to which I brought my IV-shackled hand up to shake. “I’m Dr. Harrelson. I’m the doctor who took care of your injuries.”
“My injuries?” I rasped.
“Yes. You were admitted with multiple stab wounds.”
Everything that had happened came back at me in a rush that caused a wave of dizziness. Bishop had come and brought the depositions . . . we’d had sex . . . then Eddy had shown up in a rage and attacked me. The last thing I remembered besides the pain was Bishop and Eddy fighting. I gasped. “The man who saved me—is he okay?”
Dr. Harrelson nodded. “Yes. He’s right outside the curtain if you’d like to see him. We’ve barely been able to get him to leave your side.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, I could only nod. Dr. Harrelson dipped behind the curtain. When he reappeared, Bishop was with him. He had some cuts and bruises along his face. At what must’ve been the fear in my eyes, he held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“You forget that I’m used to getting hit in the face when I’m boxing.”
“I’ll leave you two,” Dr. Harrelson said. When we were alone, I motioned to the chair next to the gurney.
Bishop sat down on the edge of the chair. “Doc says you have to stay in the hospital for a few days, but you’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Are you hurting? Do you need some pain medicine or something?”
I shook my head. As he fidgeted in the chair, I realized how nervous he was. “Do you want to talk about the elephant in the room? And I don’t mean me being stabbed.”
“Eddy’s dead.”
After sucking in a harsh breath, I said, “That wasn’t what I meant, but it’s good to know.”
“It was a long time coming for that fucker.”
“Did you kill him?” I questioned in a low voice. I hated to ask it, but I had to know.
“Yeah. I did.” A look of dark pride gleamed in his eyes. “With my bare fucking hands.”
“Oh no, Bishop.”
He shook his head. “Cops talked to me a few minutes for my story and then let me go. There won’t be any charges.”