I’m halfway to my car when sirens get through to me, and it makes me change my direction. I break out into a run toward the road, and as I reach the pavement, an ambulance pulls up to the club.
One of the emergency personnel jogs toward me, and my legs give way. I sink down to the cold ground. “Help her.” It’s the only words I can manage.
“Put her down,” he instructs.
I quickly lay Mila back down. The man begins to ask me one question after the other, and the night spins into chaos.
Every vital sign he checks offers meager comfort.
I feel a hand on my back, and in a daze, I glance at Fallon’s tearstained face. It’s only then I notice all our friends crowding around us and the police asking them questions, and it rips me back to the present.
Pushing to my feet, I pull away from Fallon, and I run toward the side of the building where I left Justin.
“Jase!” Hunter calls after me.
The moment my eyes land on Justin, where he struggles to get to his feet, rage takes over, and it propels me forward. Grabbing hold of his shirt, I deliver one punch after the other. None of them offer me any satisfaction.
Someone grabs hold of me, and when Hunter darts between Justin and me, I can only manage an incredulous look.
“He fucking hurt Mila,” I shout in disbelief that my best friend would stop me and not fucking help me kill the piece of shit.
“Sir, you need to calm down.” Feeling feral, my head snaps in the direction of the voice.
Hunter steps right up to me and grabs hold of my face. His eyes bore into mine as he says, “You can’t get arrested. Mila needs you now. Let the police handle Justin.” I begin to shake my head, needing to wipe Justin from the face of the planet. He doesn’t get to breathe the same air as Mila after what he’s done to her.
Hunter wraps his arms around me in a deadlock and begins to repeatedly say, “Mila needs you. We’ll make sure Justin pays, but right now, Mila needs you.”
The words break through the cloud of rage around me, and when I nod, Hunter relaxes his hold on me enough to only keep his one arm wrapped around my shoulders.
Not happy that I won’t get to kill Justin tonight, I watch as two officers read him his rights.
Another officer picks up my phone from the ground, and it has me snapping, “That’s mine.”
Before the officer hands the device back to me, he first takes down my statement. With a warning that they will be in touch with me, Hunter steers me toward his car.
Right now, everything is hard. Talking. Breathing. Thinking. Just fucking everything.
It’s in the early hours of the morning that I get to the hospital they took Mila to.
“You should get cleaned up,” Hunter mentions and gestures to my hands that are covered in blood.
I stop at the restroom and washing my hands, I watch the blood mix with the water. When I’m done, and my gaze meets my reflection in the mirror, I see the bloody stains on my shirt, and once again, the ground is ripped from beneath my feet.
It’s Mila’s blood.
The sight is devastating, and it tightens my chest until it feels like I’m going to implode. I have no idea how Mila’s doing.
I suck in a couple of breaths of air, trying to find my bearings.
I rush to dry my hands and jog to the waiting room. Sitting down next to Hunter, I ask, “Any news?”
He shakes his head and gives me an encouraging smile. “I’m sure they’ll come to tell us soon how Mila’s doing.”
Fallon thinks to have a nurse look at my hand, and I sit impatiently through the examination and while she wraps a bandage around it. Luckily it’s nothing serious.
We have to wait for what feels like endless hours before Mila’s older brother, Ryker, comes to the private waiting room.
I get up, my eyes glued to Ryker’s distraught face as he says, “Mila’s stable. My parents are with her.”
I want to see her. I want to hold her. But I can’t, and it’s fucking killing me.
“What did the doctors say? Will she be okay?” Hunter thinks to ask.
“She…” Ryker swallows hard, and for a moment, it looks like he might puke, but then he says, “Mila has two cracked ribs, some soft tissue damage, and a concussion. She’ll have to stay a couple of days. All we can do is wait. You all might as well head home. I’ll call if anything changes.”
I shake my head and drop down on the plush couch. My eyes focus on my bandaged right hand.
I should’ve killed Justin while I had the chance. Now the fucker is sitting safely in a cell.