Page 55 of Insurgent

We’d just made up; we’d just had a great night. How quickly life changes. How unimportant everything seems. This shop, these fucking flowers. This stupid outfit, these shoes.

I kick them off as someone talks to me. I look at their face, but I don’t hear what they’re saying. I don’t want to talk to them.

“Give her some space.” A raspy voice comes through the ringing in my ears and I look up and see a blurry Danny. I don’t want him. I want Samuel. He bends down, but I push away.

“You will let me carry you out of here. Don’t fight me.”

How is he here?

Why is he here?

I sob uncontrollably, giving in.

“It’s okay,” he says, lifting me into his arms like I’m a small child.

“He’s gone, Danny. They took him from me.”

“What the fuck happened?” I hear Paul and I turn my head.

“Bex,” he says, his face showing heartbreak. I can’t do anything but cry. My body trembles painfully. He jabs his eyes with his fingers as he looks at the battered shop, holding his hand over his mouth.

I hurt. God, I hurt. Please wake me from this nightmare.

Please, God, if you bring him back, I swear I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything.

“We need to ask her some questions,” a cop says.

“Not fucking now, you don’t,” Danny says, walking us out of the door.

Johnny jumps out of the car and quickly walks around to open the door.

“I can get in myself,” I say.

“I know,” Danny replies but ignores me when he bends, placing me inside. I look down at my bloody hands as Johnny gets in the driver’s side and Danny shuts the door. Blood dries in between lines, sticking in between my fingers, covering my wedding band.

“His ring,” I say as the ambulance starts to drive off.

“What?” Johnny asks, looking back at me.

“His ring, Johnny. I need his ring.” I hurry to open the door.

“Bex,” he says. I step out, barefoot, seeing Danny and Paul look my way in my peripheral as I push away from the door, running toward the ambulance. I only get to the end of the car before I feel arms wrap around me.

“His ring,” I say. “I want his ring.” I try to pull the hands away from me, digging into skin.

“Bexley, we’ll get it,” Danny says to me.

I claw at his hands. “I don’t want them to lose it,” I say, trying to get out of his hold.

He squeezes tighter, and I break more, my knees giving out, hitting the hard pavement.

“They won’t lose it,” he says. “I promise.”

My lungs ache, my heart in too much pain I can hardly breathe. I’m useless.

I grip at the clothing covering my heart, wishing this pain would stop. “I can’t breathe,” I say, placing a hand on the ground.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Danny says.

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