Page 27 of Save Me

Panic rises within me. “Where is he?” I demand, my voice cracking as I lock eyes with Adrian. Both of them fell silent, their stares piercing through me. “Answer me!” I yell, tears welling up in my eyes, terrified of the response I may get.

“He’s at the hospital, Star—” Demitri began, but I didn’t let him finish. Without hesitation, I pushed past them and raced towards the car.

No, no, no! This can’t be happening. I just got back to him. I can’t lose him. Please.

The car ride is enveloped in an eerie silence as we navigate our way to the hospital. The tension in the air is palpable, and I’m too terrified to break it by asking what happened.

I sit in the passenger seat, fixated on the road ahead, the flickering street lights momentarily illuminating the car's interior. Adrian’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and in the back, Chloe and Demitri whisper in hushed tones.

“What happened?” I manage to utter. Adrian shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat before responding, “We... um, we found Zavier, but things spiraled out of control. Zavier shot him.” My head snaps towards him, scoffing in disbelief.

Hurting me is one thing, but now he’s crossed a dangerous line. I remain silent, redirecting my focus back to the road, but anger courses through my veins, threatening to consume me.

Minutes later, the hospital looms into view, and my heart pounds with anticipation. Without hesitation, I fling open the car door, leaping out before it comes toa complete stop. I sprint towards the entrance of the emergency room, desperation propelling me forward.

Bursting through the doors, my eyes scan the room, searching for assistance. A perplexed expression adorns the face of a lady at the reception desk as she gazes at me.

“Argent Pierce... I need to see him. Where is he?” I implore, my words tumbling out in a rush.

“Slow down, let me check,” she replies, her fingers swiftly skimming through the recent files on her desk. “Ah, yes. The young man with the gunshot wound. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you can’t see him right now. They’re preparing to take him into surgery.”

Panic surges through me, and just as I gather my breath to protest, my attention is seized by the sight of nurses maneuvering a bed out of the emergency room doors and into a narrow corridor.

“Argent… Argent!” I yell, my voice desperate. He remains motionless. He lies still as they pass me by. Without hesitation, I sprint after them and as they enter the theater, the door shuts in my face.

I take a peek through the narrow glass in the door, witnessing them placing him on the operating table and cutting his shirt from his body.

His body is covered in a crimson pool of blood, flowing ceaselessly from the wound on his stomach. The sight pierces my heart, and tears stream down my face uncontrollably as I press my trembling hand against the cold glass.

“Please, don’t take him.”

Chloe and I have been sitting in the waiting room for a few hours now. Demitri and Adrian decided to head home to fetch fresh clothes and get us all something to eat.

As the minutes tick by, the silence becomes deafening, broken only by the occasional hushed conversation between nurses at the reception desk.

The clock on the wall reads past midnight, and exhaustion tugs at my eyelids. Chloe suggested we go home and rest, but I refused.

I am determined to be here when he wakes up, no matter how long it takes. I cling to the hope that he will soon open his eyes and everything will be okay.

Suddenly, my attention is captured by the approaching footsteps of what I assume to be a doctor. I anxiously gaze up at him from my seat, my heart pounding in my chest, hoping for news.

The doctor’s white coat rustles as he approaches us, his face a mix of concern and weariness.

“You are here for Mr. Pierce?” he asks, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

“Yes,” I reply eagerly, rising from my seat, my body tense with anticipation.

“He is awake, so you can go on through to see him,” the doctor says, offering a warm smile. But before I can take a step, he continues, “What is your relation to the patient?”

My mind races as I try to find the right words.We never really got around to putting a label onour relationship.“Uh, I’m his girlfriend,” I mutter, nervously biting my lip.

The doctor nods and gestures for me to follow him. We walk down sterile hallways, the scent of disinfectant growing stronger with each step.

Finally, we come to a stop in front of a closed door. The doctor opens it, revealing a dimly lit room with the sound of beeping machines filling the air. “Looking better already. You have a visitor.”

“Who?” Argent’s husky voice reaches my ears and I’m ready to push the damn doctor out of the way and get to him.

“Your girlfriend is here.”