Page 158 of Meet Me at the Metro

“I know, Harv. Just a little longer. They’re coming. Help is coming.”

We work in tandem to keep him stable, though the minutes drag as we wait for an ambulance to arrive. I’m unaware of how much time has passed before the police and paramedics finally appear at our side because it seems as though the world fell into a ceaseless vortex the second the gun went off. We readily move back to give the green uniformed medics space to do their work, though the four of us linger close by with watchful eyes as they lift Harvey onto a stretcher and begin bandaging his bleeding wounds with swift precision.

Evie hurries after them as they begin wheeling him to the ambulance, which is waiting outside. She volunteers to ride with him to the hospital while the remaining three of us stay back to answer the police’s questions.

Through it all, my mind is a whirlwind—a jumbled mess battling to piece the scrambled events of the night together to make sense. As they force me to recall my account, all I can remember is the image of that gun—its silvered barrel pointed directly at Theo—the raw desperation I felt to get him to run, and the deafening sound the firearm made only seconds later.

Then, everything that occurred after came flooding back to me. Theo’s harrowing cry for help, finding Harvey’s hurt and limp body in his arms, and the utter fragility in my injured friend’s voice when he spoke.

I want to scrub the recollections from my mind. I want to wash myself clean of every tainted, ugly memory of this night that will undoubtedly stain me for the rest of my life.

I want Harvey to be okay—I need him to be okay.

I also want to know what kind of wretched person would do this to him—what kind of person wouldtryto do that to Theo?

That gun was pointed right at him before Harvey intersected it.

“I already told you I didn’t see his face,” Theo explains to a cop beside me. “He had a hood on. I don’t remember anything other than that. It all happened too fast, and he ran. I only really saw the back of him.”

A person flashes through my head, but I shove the possibility back into the innermost depths of my mind. I can’t accept it.

I can’t accept that it washim—that it was—

I vomit onto the taped-off pavement outside ofBangerz Uptown.

The flashing blue and white lights of the police cars swarming the club and the prospect I just considered are too nauseating to cope with. There’s a pounding in my head that won’t seem to go away, and I can’t tell if it’s from the rough fall I took after the gun went off or the product of all the worry stewing at the forefront of my mind—worries about Harvey and—

I throw up again.

And again.

Fingers lace into my hair the fourth time I begin to wretch, gathering it away from my face as a soft, steady hand caresses my back.

“What the fuck are you all staring at?” Theo snarls. “Get her some water.”

I don’t dare rise from my crouched, heaved-over position until I’m positive my stomach has settled, and as I do, Theo’s still there, offering out a bottle of water for me to take. His hands are thankfully washed clean now, but as my fingertips graze his, all I can remember is how much blood was on them before.

His eyes look fatigued—no,haunted—as they assess me, but he displays his remaining strength, focusing on tending to me instead of crumbling like I know we’re both capable of doing right now.

“Drink, Nora, and breathe. Alright?”

I tip back the water, swallowing what my body will allow as Connor leaves the horde of officers gathered by the club’s entrance and beginswalking toward the two of us. He allows me a few moments to regain my breath and steady my erratic heartbeat before he informs, “They said we’re free to go now.”

“They’re finally done harassing us?” Theo grumbles, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

“They took him toSt. Thomas Hospital. I’ll grab us a taxi, and we can head that way.”

Tears blur my vision as I ask, “Has anyone heard anything from Evie?”

Connor nods. “She texted me and said they took him back for emergency surgery.”

Emergency surgery?

God, I feel like I’m going to be sick again.

Theo’s face abruptly pales, and he curses under his breath, “Fuck.Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“He’ll pull through this,” Connor tells him softly.

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