Page 145 of Wicked Rockstar

Faintly, I heard Peter call my name, then heard him speaking to someone.

It didn’t matter. Nothing did if Killian wasn’t still here with me.

“Come on, Tris.” Strong, firm hands guided me to my feet.

I let out a weak protest.

Those same hands gently picked me up, cradling me to a warm, solid chest that I knew better than any other.

Peter.

“It’s going to be okay.” His voice broke through my despair.

“Nothing will be okay if he dies,” I murmured, numbness creeping through my limbs.

I could hear him talking still, but most of his words didn’t break past my numbing thoughts.

“Wendy, can we use your car?” Peter yelled out.

“Of course.” Wendy’s voice sounded even further away.

They said more, but I blocked it out. The pain overcoming every cell in my body was too great to focus on any one thing.

I tumbled onto a worn seat before I was yanked upright. I couldn’t find it in me to care where they were taking me.

Chills raced through me.

I was so damn cold.

“Tris, I need you to focus on me.” I was pretty sure it was Peter speaking to me.

I turned my head away.

His fingertips forced my chin back to face him. “You’re stronger than this. Damn it, Tris,” he snapped. “I will not let you fall apart.”

I blinked, Peter’s worried gaze focused on me.

“We’re about fifteen minutes away,” Wendy called from the front seat. I glanced at her and Peter’s hand fell away.

We were in a car. When did I get into the car?

I faced Peter and blew out a breath. My lungs screamed in pain as I pushed another breath into them.

“Come on, Tris. Look at me.”

My knees screamed in pain as I shifted. I vaguely remembered falling.

“That’s it. Right here.”

“Killian.” His name came out as a whimper.

Peter’s fingertips pressed into my cheeks. I had no other option but to stare into his hazel eyes. “It’s going to be okay. You need to be strong for him.”

“No, Jack said?—”

“Jack’s a fucking asshole,” Peter growled. “Killian was hit in the head. He’s on the way to the hospital, and the EMT’s think that the worst he has is a concussion, but they want x-rays to be sure there’s no swelling. And they want to check for spinal injuries.”

“He’s alive,” I whispered, hardly able to believe it.

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