Page 100 of When It Reins
“No!” I bang on the glass, trying the handle and ripping at it, hoping with everything that it will break the lock. Nothing works. “Dammit! Open!”
She doesn’t move, no matter how much noise I make or banging I do. I see her lifeless body through the window of the door and see my life as I know it change forever. I can see my brothers working their way down to help, and I think of anything that can get this door open.
An idea sparks, and I rip off my belt.
“What are you doing, Mitch?” Logan asks, but I don’t answer him. I take the belt buckle and flip it over, placing it against the window where the prong pokes out, and I press hard, slamming my other hand over it and praying it works.
By some miracle, the glass breaks, and I drop the belt, scooping out the glass until I can unlock the door. I hear sirens in the distance, and I thank God for that.
Opening the door, I’m careful to hold her head and shoulders. Logan reaches over me, trying to help me pull her from the car. Smoke is billowing from the engine now, and I don’t know how much longer we have before the car decides on exploding.
Juniper’s head lolls as I pull her into my lap. My tears are falling freely from my face, but I have one mission.
Checking her pulse, I breathe out my first full breath when I find it. It’s faint, barely there, but it’s there, nonetheless.
“Come on, man. Hand her to me,” Logan says, and I look up at him in confusion. “We need to get you both away from this car before something happens.”
I look back at Juniper and at the car. When I look up the mountain, I see EMTs rushing the embankment. I stand, holding her close to me and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
I want to say something to her, make her open her eyes and look at me again with that sweet smile on her face. But I have to do what’s good for her, so I hand her to Logan, pick my belt off the ground, and march up the hill after him.
Stetson and Jax help Logan, and I’m right on his heels as the EMTs get the stretcher ready for her.
They take her gingerly and lay her on the gurney, quickly attaching her to it and stabilizing her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my niece, Lue, standing off to the side, tears streaming down her face as she watches Juniper get loaded. I take a quick second to walk over, pulling her to my side and kissing her forehead.
She hugs me back tightly.
“Everything will be okay.” My voice cracks on the last word, but I mean it. Juniper has to be okay.
Logan and my brothers come over, taking Lue, and I rush to the ambulance, stepping up into it without asking.
One of the EMTs looks to me, glancing at the spot where I am holding her leg, my eyes stuck on her bruised face.
“Are you family?”
I swallow, shaking my head and watching her closely, and answer him the best way I know how.
“She’s my everything.”
49
mitch
I am sick of hospitals.Sick of everyone I love getting hurt or treated poorly by the sick and disgusting pieces of trash that walk this earth.
Thankfully, most of those people are either dead or locked away for the rest of their lives.
After riding over with the EMTs, they took Juniper back into a room to get her looked at. She has a heartbeat, but her core temp is lower than it should be, and they need to get her taken care of.
I want to stay with her, to hold her hand and make sure that I am the first thing she sees when she finally wakes. But they needed to do a CAT scan and see what else is broken. When I asked what they meant by “what else,” they informed me that her wrist is fractured, her shoulder is dislocated, and there is the matter of a severe concussion, judging by her pupils.
So I left, waiting in the waiting room with family surrounding me. Juniper’s sisters are here, her other two on their way from wherever they were. My family is here, crying over the girl I gave my heart to.
And I am praying.
God and I had a tricky relationship, one where I didn’t show up much to talk, and he allowed it, but right now, it is all I can do to beg him to make her okay. To give her and me another chance, because if she doesn’t pull through this, I have no clue what the hell I’m supposed to do.
