Page 178 of Staying Selfless

I think I might throw up.

Sirens are getting louder, but that’s the only thing I hear until slurred speech draws my attention.

“Oh fuck,” a man says.

I glance up from Logan’s body to see a man stumbling around, looking down at her with some blood on his face as well.

The other driver.

“Are you drunk?” I harshly ask.

His eyes dart to mine, fear and regret filling them.

“I said, are you fucking drunk?” I repeat, standing from the ground.

His lack of response tells me exactly what I need to know as I meet him in two quick strides, grabbing his shirt with both hands before I tackle him to the ground.

My fist connects with his face as I pin him to the cement with my body. The fear, anger, stress, and concern all channeled into my hand as I hit him again. This is his fault. He drove drunk, and now my favorite person is lying limp on the frozen street next to her smashed car.

Logan.

Oh my god. What if she’s not okay?

Another punch.

“EJ!” someone screams, grasping at my arms, trying to stop me. “EJ, get the fuck off of him!”

I try to land another hit, but Marc grabs me by the arms, pulling me off the other driver as my chest heaves, searching for oxygen.

“This isn’t going to help her!” he yells at me.

He’s right. What am I doing?

“Wait. What the hell are you doing here?”

I turn around to get back to Logan, but she’s already loaded into an ambulance by the time I do, the paramedic closing the back door.

“Wait! I have to go with her!” I sprint to the ambulance, the adrenaline pushing me faster than I’ve ever run before. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“You can’t come with us. We’ve gotta go,” the paramedic quickly says, putting a hand on my chest to stop me.

“Please,” I beg as I try to push past him, attempting to get to the vehicle’s back door where she is.

“We’re taking her to Memorial hospital. You can meet us there.” He runs around the side of the ambulance, jumping into the driver’s seat.

I turn on my heel as quickly as possible, running to my truck.

“EJ!” Marc yells out.

“Memorial,” is all I say as I put my car in drive and speed down the road, trusting my shaky hands and feet to get me to the hospital in one piece.

I pull up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, behind the ambulance that had my girl inside. I barely put my car in park before I hop out of my truck, trying to catch Logan on the gurney as they wheel her in.

“Wait!” I shout, needing to see her, needing to make sure she’s okay. “I need to see her. Please,” I beg the same paramedic from earlier who is blocking the entrance.

“Let me do my job.” He puts his hands on either side of my shoulders, trying to calm me down. “She’s in the best place for her. Let us do our job.”

My lip begins to quiver as my eyes sting with tears, but I nod my head in resignation.

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