With her loose, I gently lay her down on the floor. I briefly register another body on the floor only a few feet away, but I don’t take the time to see who it is. All I can see is Eden; deathly pale face and the bottom half her body covered in blood. Her head lists to the side away from me, and I grip her chin to bring it back. Placing my fingers under her chin, I feel for a pulse.
It’s there, but sluggish. Feeling the slow beat only relieves a little of my fear and anxiety. She could still easily bleed out.
Judge drops down beside me holding a towel. I take it from him and press down on her wound. She doesn’t flinch at the pressure.
“Fuck, fuck! Judge, call Trouble and tell him to meet me at his office. Tell him what happened and that Eden might need a blood transfusion. And let him know we may need the ‘copter.”
I look up when I hear a sickenly sweet crunch sound and find Emo with Diego still in front of him. His blade is still at his neck, except it’s no longer a threat, but a promise, as half of Diego’s neck is split open with blood rushing down his chest. A look of dark satisfaction glosses over Emo’s face as he watches the life drain from Diego.
I can’t even be pissed at Emo for taking Diego’s life when I craved to do it myself. I’m just glad the fucker is dead. Right now, I need to focus on Eden and saving her life, because there’s one thing I know of for sure. If she dies, she’ll be taking a vital part of me with her.
My heart.
EDEN
I TRY TO OPEN MY EYES, but I can’t. Either they’re too heavy or I’m too weak. Or maybe someone superglued my eyelids shut. Crazy thought. Why would someone superglue a person’s eyes shut?
It’s not just my eyes that won’t work, but my mouth as well. My lips won’t even so much as twitch, let alone open so I can ask what’s going on. And the rest of my body, it just lies there. My mind is fuzzy too.
Am I broken? Why can’t I open my eyes, talk, or move? What’s going on?
Voices start drifting in and out, but I can’t understand what they’re saying. One particular voice sounds really nice. It’s deep and smooth, but I sense worry in the baritone. What is he worried about?
I try my best to focus on that voice.
“Why hasn’t she woken up?” it says.
There’s warmth at my side, and I want to reach out and grab whatever it is.
“She lost a lot of blood. Her body is healing,” another voice answers.
“How long will it take?” says the voice I like.
“It’s up to her.”
My throat tightens as I attempt to scream that I’m awake. Why can’t they see that?
The voices drift off, but I still sense a presence. The one I like. I wrack my brain, trying to remember who he is. It’s small glimpses that come to me at first.
Shaggy blond hair and baby blue eyes. Sometimes his eyes are darker, like a storm cloud. Tall with a strong body. Someone who makes me feel safe.
More images come, clearer ones. And a name.
JW.
Everything comes back at once and my heart begins to pound erratically in my chest. My side hurts, and I remember Diego stabbing me with a big knife. Memories of hanging from the ceiling, of Benjamin’s daughter and ex-wife huddled on the floor, of Remi lying unconscious on the bathroom floor at The Hill with Elijah sitting beside her.
It’s all too much. My head feels like it’s going to implode.
It’s not until a warm hand grips mine that I realized I’m moaning.
“Eden?” the voice comes again. “Gypsy, can you hear me?”
The voice is calming and the pain recedes some. My eyelids begin to work enough for me to slit them open. The light is dim in the room and a shadow falls over my face. It takes me a moment to focus. A smile pulls up my now working lips at the face hovering over mine.
“JW,” I whisper through a dry throat.
“Jesus,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “You scared the shit out of me.”