Page 113 of Hey, Daddy

I continued chest compressions.

There was a quiet hiss of air and I looked up in time to see Julia start to back out of the room. “Call 9-1-1. Right now.”

Julia shook her head.

“Siri,” Shasha ordered. “Call 9-1-1.”

“Calling 9-1-1,” the robotic voice droned.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a female answered.

Shasha spoke.

I continued.

“Breathe,” I urged.

Shasha breathed.

I could feel her ribs breaking as I performed chest compressions.

I’d felt the phenomenon before, of course.

It was hard to do CPR correctly and not break ribs.

But I never thought I’d be performing CPR on the love of my life.

“We have to leave,” I heard Julia whisper.

“You leave, you’re going to be found,” I snarled.

Julia’s eyes came to me.

I knew what I said wouldn’t matter.

She was going to run.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts if you think that I’m leaving my kid here like that,” Rich pushed her.

Julia went flying into the wall, landing much the same as Rich’s kid had, only she tripped over Rich on her way down, and her head smacked straight into the fireplace, right at the corner.

I didn’t spare her any more attention than that, my focus solely on getting Nastya’s heart to beat.

“Check her pulse,” I urged Shasha.

Shasha did, throwing his phone to the floor.

Our eyes met, and I saw the moment he was about to say that she didn’t have a pulse.

Another rib cracked, and the grating sound of the two bones rubbing together was enough to cause nausea to swell in my throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathed. “Don’t do this to me, baby. Come back.”

“Stop!”

I didn’t stop, because I assumed he was talking to Julia.

That notion was quickly rectified when a movement caught my attention.

---