Page 74 of The Opposite Effect

After helping Charity sit on one of my couches, the brunette drops to the floor next to me. “How long has he been unresponsive?”

“Five minutes,” Clara responds on my behalf.

The brunette’s eyes rocket to Clara, the shock on her face intensifying.

“Can you call Isaac? He will get the surgical team at Ravenshoe Private on standby,” Clara requests to the unnamed police officer. “They may be Ryan’s only chance.”

The brunette curtly nods as her hand delves into the pocket of her black pants to retrieve her phone. Just as she begins talking into her cell, feet stomping booms through my ears, closely followed by the sight of two first responders.

“Thanks, we can take it from here,” one officer advises me, replacing my hands pumping Ryan’s chest with his own.

I take a stumbling step backward, landing on my ass a foot from Ryan. As the paramedics work on his lifeless body, the realization of why Ryan feels guilt for Chris’s death smashes into me. Ryan was the one who discovered Chris. He worked on him for over thirty minutes while waiting for the paramedics to arrive. Even after they officially pronounced Chris deceased, Ryan wouldn’t give up. He only stopped pounding his chest when I dragged him away kicking and screaming. He didn’t want to give up on Chris just like I don’t want to give up on him.

Crawling across the small space between us, I bang my enclosed fist on Ryan’s chest. “Come on, Ryan, fuckingfight!” I roar, pounding on his chest over and over again. “You’ve never given up before, so don’t start now!”

I pound, and pound, and pound his chest until I have nothing left to give. The stranglehold on my heart is crippling me, and my lungs refuse to secure an entire breath.

Feeling defeated, I slump to the floor, my heart beyond broken, my eyes full of tears.

I gave it my all, and I still failed.

Just as the first lot of tears escape my eyes, a ragged gasp booms through my ears. I run the back of my hand across my cheeks before lifting my eyes. Ryan’s blue eyes are open and staring directly at me. They’re haunted and brimmed with worry, but they’re open, and that is the only thing that fucking matters.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Clara and I have spent the last two hours sitting in a little blue room at the Ravenshoe Private Hospital waiting for an update on Ryan’s condition. Other than the nurse who came in to complete a set of observations on Clara, the room has been void of any other visitors.

Although Clara is clearly in shock, she refused to take the sedative offered by the nurse. Understandably, she wants to remain lucid until we receive an update on Ryan. Charity received four stitches to the welt on her head. With a prescription for a heavy sedative and pain medication, Diesel and Johnny took her home. Although she was adamant she was fine, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.

Plain-clothed detectives and police officers have lined the corridor throughout the past two hours, but surprisingly, none have requested statements from Clara or me. Their priorities also remain focused on Ryan and not police protocol.

When another shiver racks through Clara’s body, I sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my lap.

Twenty minutes later, our heads lift in sync when a creak of a door sounds through the quiet passing between us. The beat of my heart turns crazy when a small Asian doctor with a crisp white coat enters the room. Her inky black hair is pulled off her face in a twisted design, and her lovely green eyes are issuing silent sympathies.

I stand from my chair, taking Clara with me. We stare at the doctor, blinking and muted, but I release a deep sigh when she says, “He’s okay.” Clara squeezes my hand tightly while the doctor continues talking, “He was fortunate he had you both there. The amount of blood he was losing would have seen him hemorrhaging within minutes. By applying pressure to the wound and keeping his heart pumping, you saved his life.” Her eyes drift between Clara and me. “Both of you. He has a long way to go, but he’s doing remarkably well.”

The doctor accepts my offer of a handshake before she runs her tiny hand down Clara’s forearm. The instant she steps back into the corridor, Clara collapses to the floor. Tears roll down her cheeks as a devastating sob tears from her throat. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault,” she cries through a barrage of hiccups.

After gathering her in my arms, I stride to the chair I’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. Carefully, I pull her back and peer into her red-rimmed eyes. “This is not your fault.”

“I should have taken off my jewelry. I should have listened to you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to listen to me. You should be able to wear anything you want. This is not your fault.”

“But—”

“No, Princess. No buts. Damon pulled the trigger. Damon shot his brother. You did nothing wrong.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and run my thumbs under her eyes, catching her tears. “This is not your fault.”

She looks like she wants to push the issue further, but thankfully, she leaves it as is, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.

I don’t know how long we stay huddled together, but it is long enough that the watermarks Clara’s tears created on my shirt have dried, and she has fallen asleep nestled into my chest. Even though my ass is dead from the rock-hard chair, I refuse to move. Not just because I don’t want to wake her but because comforting her is helping heal some of the cracks that chipped my heart tonight. Her touch soothes me in a way no words can.

My eyes lift from Clara when the main door of the waiting room swings open. I’m not surprised but more apprehensive when Cormack hesitantly enters the room. His eyes are restless, and his composure is distraught. The crisp dark blue suit he was wearing earlier today is disheveled, and his hair is messy like he has been running his fingers through it regularly.

The smell of expensive cologne filters through my nose when he crouches down in front of me. Sensing another presence in the room, Clara’s head pops off my chest. She inhales a quick, jagged breath as her eyes glance at her brother’s remorse-filled gaze.

Launching out of my lap, she wraps her arms around Cormack’s neck. Cormack draws her in close before standing from his squatted position. He mutters into her ear, but he’s so quiet, I can’t hear a word spilling from his lips.

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