I hear a loud grunt before his face appears hovering above me, his hand wrapped tightly in mine before he holds me down, keeping me still. “I’m here,” Carver soothes, squeezing my hand until it hurts as he moves with me. “You’re fine. These are the paramedics. You need to let them help you.”
“No, no, no,” I fret, trying to pull myself up off the table. “Don’t let them take me. I don’t want to go. Don’t leave me.”
“No one is leaving you,” Carver says, holding me tighter and making it impossible to move. “I’ll be with you the whole time, okay? Now, lay still before you make it worse.”
Tears well in my eyes and I nod, quickly glancing around to find King and Cruz walking with the paramedics as Grayson remains behind, sitting on the garage floor with my blood soaking through his clothes, staring after me as though he’ll never see me again.
My heart aches for him, but he’s strong, and he’s suffered through a lot worse than dealing with a little bit of blood. Only this time his heart is involved, and from experience, when the heart is involved, that usually means things are beyond fucked up.
Carver reaches out, wiping the tears off the side of my face as we hit the back of the ambulance. The gurney rocks, forcing a sharp breath through my clenched jaw, and as I look up and meet Carver’s pained stare, I see nothing but guilt shining brightly in his eyes.
The gurney rolls into the back of the ambulance and I hold back my screams as Carver gets right in with me, crouching beside the gurney so his face is right by mine as the paramedics do their thing. Something presses down over my face as the back doors of the ambulance slam shut, closing me off to King, Cruz, and Grayson, but something tells me that they won’t be far behind.
The ambulance takes off as Carver squeezes my hand, keeping my attention on him. “You’re going to make it,” he tells me. “You have to fucking make it.”
I shake my head, letting the tears fall free. “I’m dying. I can’t … I’m not going to make it.”
“Don’t you fucking say that,” he roars at me, squeezing my hand so much tighter, so tight that I feel my knuckles pressing together. “You’re going to fucking fight because if you don’t, if you fucking die, it’s going to destroy Cruz. It’s going to kill King, and it’ll fucking wreck Gray, and I won’t let you do that to them. Fight for them.”
A tear falls and lands right on our hands between our faces. “And what about you?”
“If you fucking die on me, Winter,” he says, his gaze boring into mine. “I’ll never forgive you— because we’re not done yet. There’s still so much more that we need to do together, so much that we haven’t even had the chance to start yet, and fuck it, I want it all. You’re stronger than this. You can fight it.”
“The four of you keep putting me on a pedestal, but I’m not that strong.”
“You are, Winter. You’re a fucking Ravenwood, and I know this is all on me, and I’ll fucking live with it for the rest of my life, but you’re not dying today. You have too much left to do.”
Pressure comes down on my abdomen and I clench my jaw as the pain continues to rock through me. “I’m scared,” I tell him, hating the words as they come out of my mouth. I’ve always prided myself on being strong, always strived to push myself harder, and I’ve done everything I possibly can to hide my weaknesses, but Carver sees through it. He’s been able to see my vulnerabilities since the day I first met him. He knows me better than I know myself. He’s the reason I was able to survive in the beginning.
“I know,” he murmurs as the paramedics step in beside him and take my arm to start an IV. Hopefully, they'll get some pain relief pulsing through my system. “But you’re not as fucking terrified as I am. If I lose you …”
Carver lets the words fall away, but I don’t need him to finish them. I know exactly what he’s saying because I feel it too. The idea of one of the guys being taken away from me is the most painful thought that I’ve ever had, and right now, all four of them are fearing that exact thing.
Carver is right. I have to fight this. I have to make it because if I don’t, the boys will be shattered and I refuse to do that to them.
I have too much to do in this world. Too many battles to win.
My eyelids grow heavy and I wonder what the fuck the paramedic put into my IV, but I don’t get a chance to ask as my world quickly begins to fall away. “Sleep, Winter,” Carver tells me, keeping my hand tucked safely between his. “Just make sure you come back to me. This isn’t the end, not yet.”