Page 126 of Undone

“You’re going to be okay. You hear me? Don’t you dare give up on me, Dorian.”

I reached for his face, hands trembling as I cupped his cheeks, my fingers slick with the blood that painted his skin.

“I love you too,” I whispered, willing him to hear me. I brushed away his hair from his forehead.

His eyes fluttered open just enough to find mine. He didn’t say anything, and then his eyes closed again.

“I love you too,” I begged, my voice hoarse. “Stay with me, Dorian.Please.”

Before I could say more, I heard the shuffle of footsteps behind me.

An EMT crouched down by Dorian’s leg. His hand hovered over Dorian’s torn jeans, accessing the damage.

“Femoral artery is the main concern. He’s losing a lot of blood.” His voice was calm, focused.

I barely registered anything beyond the panic surging through me. “He’s breathing,” I said, my gaze locked on Dorian. “Pulse is weak, but steady. He… he opened his eyes, then closed them again.”

Then Officer Ramirez was beside me, his face tight with concern. He leaned down, his hand brushing mine as he gave me a firm but gentle glance. “We need to move him, Noah.”

I shook my head, unwilling to let go. My fingers tightened against Dorian’s hand.

Officer Ramirez’s voice softened. “I know, but he’s losing too much blood. We need to get him stabilized.”

A small team of EMTs arrived with a stretcher, their voices low but urgent. One of them knelt by Dorian’s side, his gloved hands moving to assess his vitals. “Shallow pulse, breathing’s labored. We need to transport himnow,” the EMT called out, already adjusting the oxygen mask that had been placed on Dorian’s face.

Reluctantly, I released my hold on him, but only enough for them to slide the stretcher beneath him. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as they moved him, and I couldn’t help but grab his hand.

His grip tightened for a moment, weak but unmistakable.

FORTY-SEVEN

Noah - November

WORK SONG - HOZIER

No matter where you went,hospitals always smelled the same. Like desperation, masked under layers of chemicals. As if it was trying to disguise the reality of what happened in these walls.

My fingers twitched against the edge of the waiting room chair, a restless movement I couldn’t control. Across the room, someone’s phone buzzed, the vibration cutting through the sterile silence, but I couldn’t focus on anything beyond the thought of Dorian lying on an operating table.

I’d lost track of how long I’d been sitting in this waiting room. The clock on the wall was frozen in place, its second hand moving too slowly and too fast at the same time.

My mind wrestled with the chaos John left behind—the unanswered questions, the loose ends I still couldn’t untangle. But that was a problem for another time. For now, I forced it aside.

Gracie was curled up in a chair a few feet away, her tiny frame swallowed up in one of Dotty’s sweaters. She’d fallen asleep hours ago, her head resting on Trent’s shoulder. Trent looked as exhausted as the rest of us, his face lined with worry, but he kept his arm securely around her.

Dotty sat nearby, her hands twisting together in her lap. She hadn’t said much since we got here, but every now and then, she glanced at me, her lips pressing into a thin line like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Sawyer was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set tight as he stared at nothing.

Colt and David made the trip down the moment they heard. They stood further back, speaking in low tones, though I wasn’t listening. The room was too loud from the sound of my own heartbeat.

Earlier, when the nurse came out to tell us Dorian was in surgery, everyone turned to me, their questions pressing down like a wave I wasn’t ready to face. I’d barely managed to answer. Now, the silence felt unbearable.

I got up again, pacing the length of the room. The tile was cold under my feet, even through my shoes, and the lights overhead buzzed faintly. Every step seemed like my body was dragging, my muscles heavy with fear and exhaustion.

Gracie stirred, her head lifting slightly. Her eyes blinked open, big and glassy, and she glanced around before they landed on me. “Is Daddy gonna be okay?”

My throat tightened. I crouched in front of her. “The doctors are taking care of him right now, G. He’s really strong, and they’re doing everything they can to help him.”

She nodded, but her bottom lip wobbled. “I’m scared.”

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