Page 52 of Witch Upon a Star
“Come on, Winnie,” I begged. “Breathe for me.Please. I need you to breathe for me…”
Her body jiggled limply with my compressions, but she did not blink. She did not gasp or cough or suddenly sit up. There was nothing.
“911, what is your emergency?”
They triedto keep me at the store, to answer fucking questions, but I pushed my way past all of them and into the ambulance. Let themtryto remove me. I was not leaving her side. Not again. Never again. I only partly registered that Carlos had shown up, and that was likely the only reason I did not get handcuffed and thrown into the back of a police cruiser.
Two ambulances raced to the hospital. One with the man I’d likely killed and the other with Calliope.
“…crushed trachea…”I couldn’t get the voice of the female EMT out of my head. I’d kept the compressions going until they came in the backdoor. Theunlockedbackdoor. That was another problem I was going to need to deal with, but not now.
I wasn’t even sureIwas breathing as I watched them work until they announced that they had a pulse. She wasalive, and that relief… Christ, I’d nearly passed out as my head swam with it. They’d been able to intubate her, using a pump bag to breathe for her.
I barely noticed the arrival of the second EMT team and the police. All I knew was that Calliope, the love of my life, wasalive. I didn’t know what that meant. How long had she been without oxygen? Was there brain damage? Had he broken her neck as well as crushed her trachea? The fact that they’d been able to intubate had to be a good sign. It meant that a tube had fit down her throat.
But they were breathing for her. She hadn’t woken up.
I didn’t remember the ambulance ride. It was a haze of flashing lights, prayers, and staring at Calliope’s face like I was trying to commit every feature to memory. Her eyes were closed now, and I didn’t know why. Had the EMTs done that? Was that done to protect her eyes? Or had she blinked on her own before falling unconscious again?
Wake up, Winnie… I need you to wake up…
But my prayers landed on deaf ears. Both hers and God’s.
I held onto her hand, gripping it like it was my lifeline. Because it fucking was. This couldn’t be it. I couldn’t have had her for less than a week. It wasn’t possible. We were supposed to have a lifetime together. Marriage, kids, a house, bees and cats and bearded dragons, a store, a future… I hadn’t even had a chance to build her a home yet.
They tried to bar me from the room. Nurses in scrubs stood between me and Calliope. I pushed, not even registering that I was treating the women who were only doing their jobs with less than a modicum of respect. It wasn’t until a small, blonde doctor in a white lab coat stepped forward and placed her hands on my chest that I listened and broke free of the haze that surrounded me.
“Tessa,” I gasped. She must have come to work after leaving the Grand Opening earlier tonight. They’d all been there, every club member, their ol’ ladies, and all the club kids. Even some in-laws and parents had shown up. “You have to help her, you have to save her!”
Tessa was club, family. She would understand what was at stake. She was a hell of a doctor. I’d seen Calliope do some amazing things this week. So much so that I’d actually startedto believe in magic. Now I needed Tessa to work a miracle. I needed her to bring Calliope back to me.
“I will do what I can, Starbucks, but I need you to go. Instead of helping her, I’m here with you. Where would you rather I be?”
Fuck. She was right. I wasn’t doing anyone any good. I wasn’t helping Calliope. And that knowledge tore at my soul. Once again,Iwas the one who’d put her in danger. I wasn’t her hero. I was her destroyer.
Strong, masculine hands wrapped around my chest from behind. Slowly, I was pulled backwards. I didn’t fight them. I stared straight ahead at Calliope’s lifeless body on that stretcher until the door was closed in my face. And still I stared, as if I could suddenly develop x-ray vision that would allow me to see through the door and get just one more glimpse of her.
I was herded backwards, past the nurses’ station, and into the waiting room. I’d been in here too many times to count. But it had never beenfor me. I’d never had someone before like Calliope. Someone I couldlose.
The names on my back were people I loved and cared about. Family, friends, loved ones… Placing the black ribbon by their names was sad and cathartic. I would never forget them because they were permanently etched into my skin. But in an awful way, that ribbon was like cutting myself off from them. Their passing hurt, and it was sad, but I didn’t break. I mourned, I moved on.
Calliope’s name wasn’t on my back. She wasn’t etched into my skin through needles and ink for all to see. Yet,shewas all over me. On me, inside of me. She claimed me in a way that no other ever had or ever would. There was no blackribbon for her. There was no mourning and moving on. If I lost her, I would loseme.
I couldn’t remember if I’d said it. Had I told her? We’d moved so fast, both making assumptions and claims, but had I actually told her how I felt?
Would it even matter if I had?
If miracles of miracles happened and Calliope woke up, would she even want me once she learned how badly I’d failed her? She’d been in danger, and I hadn’t known. She’d been right on the other side of that fucking door and I hadn’t heard her.
I had no idea how long I stood there for. I didn’t see anything, couldn’t hear them talking. It wasn’t until Steel got right up in my face and punched me that I really even noticed where I was and who I was with.
Most of the club was present. Dosia was too, as were Calliope’s parents and siblings. I didn’t see SJ, JJ, or any of the other nieces and nephews. The only ol’ lady besides Dosia was Tally. The others were likely home with their kids or somewhere.
Carlos and his Deputy Sheriff Jeffery Miller—no relation to me—were also in the waiting room with us.
I blinked, looking down at my hands for the first time. They were shaking, covered in crimson. As was my black shirt, my jeans, my boots, and my cut.
“The brick…” Christ, was thatmyvoice? I didn’t sound like me, but I didn’t know if it was my ears or if the others heard me speaking like I had a frog in my throat. “I couldn’t hear her. She was right there, and I couldn’t hear her…”
