Page 82 of Scythe & Sparrow
“What happened?” I ask as I drop to her side. I glance toward the body of a man lying a short distance away, his eyes lifeless, agunshot wound leaking blood and brain from the center of his forehead. I refocus on Rose as I press my fingers to her carotid artery. Her pulse is racing. Her skin is cool, covered in a thin film of sweat. I’ve seen her like this before. “Where is she injured?”
Lachlan shakes his head. “I don’t know—”
“Was she shot?”
“No, I don’t—”
“Youpromisedme,” I snarl, methodically checking Rose for the source of her injury. There’s no blood on her head or neck. “You fuckingpromisedme you’d look after her.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Rose, wake up. Come on.”
“Fionn,” Lark says, and when I turn in her direction, there are tears in her eyes. She holds up a tool, something long and silver with a sharp, straight edge. The metal is coated in fresh blood.
“Fuck.” I tear open the buttons of Rose’s plaid shirt and then I see it, the hole in the right side of her tank top, the torn edges stained crimson. I pull her shirt up. There’s not much external blood but the wound is deep, angled upward into her abdomen, skirting just below her last rib. He’s hit her liver. And it’s bleeding into her abdominal cavity. “Call the fucking ambulance.”
Lark dials 911. I pull my shirt over my head and press it to the wound as hard as I can, scanning the room. “There,” I say, pointing to a Uline first aid kit fixed to the wall. “First aid kit. Bring it.”
Lachlan runs to grab the kit while Lark speaks to the dispatcher, taking the woman through the key details, the address and phone number and the nature of the emergency. She puts dispatch on speaker as I motion her over. “My name is Dr. Fionn Kane,” I say as I get Lark to kneel down so we can elevate Rose’s legs on her lap.“The patient is female, age twenty-seven, unconscious, breathing is rapid and shallow, heart rate elevated. Stab wound to the upper right abdomen, possible liver damage. Internal bleeding.”
“The person or persons who stabbed—”
“Dead,” I say. “No other injured parties.”
I run through more details about the scene and circumstances and Rose’s condition as Lachlan returns with the first aid kit, opening it to withdraw the gauze pads for the wound and a rescue blanket. I pack the wound and apply pressure. It’s all I can do, and I feel so fucking helpless.
Lachlan’s eyes meet mine. Regret and distress stare back at me.Call Leander, I mouth as the dispatcher tells us the ambulance and police are on their way. He nods once, and though I know he doesn’t want to leave my side, his gaze still tracks to Lark. I know he’s worried about what will happen next. About keeping her safe when police show up to ask questions. A heartbeat later, he rises and strides a few feet away to speak to his boss in low and quiet tones.
“What can I do?” Lark asks.
Fucking pray.Pray to some deity I don’t believe in. Rewind time. I would give anything to take Rose’s place, if that’s what it took to save her. “Take the phone and wait for the ambulance.”
“Okay,” she says, her voice a tight whisper as she rises.
“Lark?” I meet Lark’s eyes, the crystalline blue surrounded by the shine of tears. Blood is caked in her hair and streaked across her face and neck. “Tell them to run. We don’t have much time.”
She swallows and nods, and then she runs, talking to dispatch as she disappears around the corner.
When she’s gone, Lachlan returns to kneel by Rose’s feet, raising her legs on his own. “I’m sorry, Fionn.”
“I don’t fucking care,” I snap, kicking the first aid kit. The metal scrapes across the floor. We’ve already used all the gauze. The blanket. I was able to fix a fucking dog, but I don’t have the means to help the woman I love. All I can do is hold on and hope. I stare down at her pale face, so beautiful and serene, her thick lashes unmoving as I increase the pressure on a wound that must have burned with pain until the moment she slipped into unconsciousness. Tears flood my vision. “I can’t fix her with that,” I whisper.
I can feel the weight of my brother’s gaze on my face, but I don’t look up when he braces a hand on my shoulder. My first tears fall on Rose’s skin, settling on her chest where shallow breaths rise and fall in a rapid beat.
“Why didn’t I tell her?” I ask. “I love her. Why didn’t I say it?”
Lachlan squeezes my shoulder. I press my eyes shut and drop my head to my chest. “You’re right that it’s my fault, brother. For more than just what happened to Rose. It always has been. All the way back to that night with Dad. Maybe even before that.”
“You’re wrong.” I swallow. Confessions that have waited for so long in the dark finally work their way to my lips, ready to spill into the world. “It was me. I’m the one who killed him.”
I glance his way only long enough to catch his confusion out of the corner of my eye. “What do you mean?”
“I ratted him out to the Mayes family. That night he came back home, when the fight started, I couldn’t let him win. You and Rowan were on the floor, both of you too much in shock to notice. You didn’t see. But it was me. I stabbed him in the back.” I hang my head and stare at Rose. Maybe everything would have been different if I’d been honest all along. Honest with her abouthow I felt. Honest with my brothers for what I’d done. Honest with myself. “I’m the one who killed him.”
“You didn’t.” Lachlan leans closer. His breath fans across my face. “Maybe you brought him down, but trust me, brother. I’m the one who killed him. I felt his last breaths in my hands. And I have no regrets about that.None.” I can feel the weight of his attention on my face, but I still can’t meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“You’re my older brother. I couldn’t bear to disappoint you.”
