Page 146 of Twisted Collide

Gravity always wins.

How stupid could I have been? How could I not protect her?

Because I’m a selfish asshole who put myself first.

So lost in my brain that I didn’t reach out.

But I can’t think about that now. I can hate myself for failing her later. Right now, I need to get her.

A sickening thud echoes in my ears.

She’s slipped through my grasp. I’m too late.

I dash over to where she’s lying on the opposite side of the ledge. Carefully, I step over it and move to where Josephine is on the ground.

Bile collects in my mouth.

On the other side, golden-brown hair fans across the dark ground. I slip down, coming to her side. This close, I can see patches of hair are growing darker . . .

Blood.

“Josephine!” My voice is urgent.

My heart drops to my stomach as I notice a puddle of blood pooling beneath her head. Even though it’s dark out, the streetlamp illuminates the night enough to see a stark contrast against her pale skin.

“Josephine, wake up.” I place a finger on her neck.

Thank fuck. A pulse.

“Please, open your eyes.” My voice trembles. “Hellfire.”

I pull out my phone, hands trembling as I do, and fumble to dial 911.

My breath comes out in short, ragged breaths.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“My—my . . .” My voice cracks.

“Sir?”

“My friend, she fell and hit her head. I need an ambulance. I-I’m at Lancaster Arena.”

“What’s your location at the arena?”

“In the parking lot. The player parking lot,” I say quickly, never lifting my gaze from Josephine.

“I’m sending an ambulance right now. Sir, can you tell me what happened?”

“She hit her head on the concrete.”

“Is she conscious?”

“She’s unconscious, and there’s a lot of blood.”

“Are you able to put something clean on the wound?”

“Yes.” I unzip my jacket and pull it off, then look for where the blood is coming from. Without moving her, I place the jacket where the bleeding originates, making sure to apply pressure, hopefully to stop it.

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