Page 112 of Overtime
No, my vision keeps swimming, and I can no longer control my limbs. My hands drop like lead, and my mind finally catches up to what’s happening.
I’m about to pass out.
CHAPTER 33
ARAN
One moment—and for the first time in my life—I’m optimistic about starting a conversation. The next, I see Strawberry’s eyes roll closed and she plummets to the floor.
The world stops as her head hits the bookshelf at a weird angle. The thud’s echo reaches me halfway across the expanse.
And then she hits the floor.
I don’t even think. I take off at full speed and leap over a table on the way. I grow tunnel vision, and there, all I see is her unmoving form.
Es Luz, otra vez, es Luz otra vez.
That little voice incessantly repeats that even as I kneel before her. Only when I stop do I realize several things. I’m panting like a stinking horse. She’s really pale and unresponsive. There’s blood trickling slowly onto the carpet.
“Shit, shit, shit. Maddie, wake up.”
I know I can’t move her. My hands hover in the air, frozen. But I can’t let her keep bleeding. As I’m tearing off my sweatshirt, I feel someone behind me.
“What’s happening?”
I fold up the fabric quickly, and with shaky hands, I press it against the back of her head. My eyes run over her frame, stopping at her chest. I see it rise and fall, and some of the adrenaline rushes out of me. Some. I should call 911, but how long would they take to get here? Should I take her to the hospital instead?
Finally, I turn and find the guy she was tutoring. His eyes are wide as boiled eggs looking at the scene.
“Get our stuff and follow me,” I command.
“Um—”
“Now, man! Can’t you see she’s bleeding?”
“Er, okay.”
I’m praying harder than I have since Luz’s accident while I carefully maneuver Maddie in my arms. Her head lolls over my shoulder, and the sweatshirt falls to the floor. Hope returns to my body when I see the bloodstains are small.
“Stay with me,” I whisper to her, rushing through the library with her pupil on our tail.
In record time, I bundle her into the passenger seat of my SUV and strap her in. The dude dumps all our junk in the back seat, and when we’re done, I race to the driver’s seat. This time my hands are steady as I turn on the car and fasten my seat belt.
A little moan echoes in the quiet, and I still. But she doesn’t open her eyes yet.
By some miracle, I catch all the green lights on the way to the hospital. It’s the second time in as many months that I have to go to that damn place, and the closer I get to it, the more I sweat. The more my muscles spasm. The more my chest feels like there’s an elephant sitting on it. This is why I’ve never wanted to get involved with anyone. Somehow, I always end up coming here with the women I love. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it so damn much that I’m trying not to barf all over the dashboard.
I park sideways between two spots. Everyone will just have to deal with it. Even though my breathing’s getting shorter and shorter and my vision blurs, I pick Maddie up again and settle her head safely against my shoulder.
“You’re going to be fine, little Strawberry. We’re going to be good.”
I put one foot forward, and then the other. I can’t remember whether I shut my car door, but I don’t turn back until I’m in the ER. And I don’t stop until someone brings a gurney for her and wheels her away. I’m aware of someone asking me shit, but all I can do is stand there, shaking like a leaf. My clothes stick to my skin while buckets of cold sweat keep pouring out. All I can see is the white of the walls. I can taste the hospital smell, that stench of chemicals and detergent and faint traces of blood.
I shut my eyes and force myself to breathe, even though I really don’t want to inhale more of that scent. I ball my hands tight, and the pain of my fingers digging into my palms grounds me a bit.
This isn’t like what happened to Luz. I didn’t lose anyone that night. I’m not going to lose anyone today. It’s going to be fine. I’ll get my chance to tell Maddie how I really feel.
“—sit down?”
