Page 75 of Marked

“I need to focus on her wound so I’m going to hang up. Make sure Lieutenant Scott Carter responds to this call. I need him here for the case.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure he’s notified.”

I don’t bother to thank her because I’m not sure the words will make it out coherently. I drop the phone next to me after hanging up and spot what remains of Jack’s shirt not far away. Keeping a firm hand on Taylor’s neck, I reach for the shirt. I bundle it up and quickly press it to Taylor’s neck. I didn’t want to, but in that brief glimpse, I saw the wide wound along her delicate throat, and my dam breaks a little more.

I bend over Taylor again and press my forehead to hers. Her skin feels frigid compared to mine, and it scares me. Completely, utterly terrifies me. Closing my eyes, I gently stroke her hair with a shaking, bloodied hand. “It’s going to be okay; it’s going to be okay,” I whisper over and over again.

Maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll believe it myself.

I’m pulled from my numbness when I hear the front door slam open, a cacophony of loud voices soon following it. I can’t make out anything they’re saying, but I yell out for them. Again, words are outside my current capabilities. The sound of pounding feet and the rattling of wheels come closer until I hear them in the kitchen.

“Detective? We’re going to need you to step back,” someone says, and I pull my forehead away from Taylor’s to stare at him blankly. The EMT swallows but isn’t to be deterred. He puts his gloved hand near mine, putting pressure on Jack’s shirt. “We’ll take over from here, Detective.”

Slowly, I pull my hand away from Taylor’s neck, leaving her in far more capable hands. Aware that I need to get out of their way, I try to rise to my feet but stumble. Someone’s arms loop under my armpits, hoisting me the rest of the way up and making sure I stay upright.

“Come on, Dalton,” Scott says as he practically carries me from the kitchen.

My eyes stay on the EMTs huddled over Taylor until I’m completely removed from the room and deposited onto the living room couch. I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to dispel the ringing in my ears, but that only makes it worse.

“What in the hell happened, Dalton?” Scott asks.

I look up to see him standing in front of me with his arms crossed. “Taylor—” I start, but I choke on the words. “Seth—he had her. The killer.” Gods, I can’t form a single cohesive sentence. I rub at my face and freeze when I realize they’re still caked with Taylor’s blood. I jump to my feet in a panic and try to wipe the blood off me.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Scotts says, stepping closer to me.

Calm down? I don’t know what those words mean. He has no idea what I went through the past couple hours.

Scott grabs my trembling hands and steadies me as I sway. He looks down at my thigh and curses. “Gods, your leg! No wonder you can’t fucking walk.” He turns his head and shouts, “We need an EMT in here!”

I rip my hands from his and shake them at the EMT who pops his head into the living room. “No! Taylor,” I say, voice wobbling. “Please, Tay—” I turn towards the kitchen, but my abused leg buckles, making me sit down on the couch once again.

Seth’s couch.

With a cry, I’m on my feet again, ignoring my leg’s protest. My calf and thigh are not happy with me, but I have to get out of this apartment. I have to get away from anything Seth. “I can’t,” I pant, feeling the tightness in my chest appear again.

“You refuse medical attention? Fine. But Dalton, your stubborn ass needs to answer my questions. What happened? Why didn’t you call for backup? Where’s Khoury?”

Jack.

Jack.

Jack.

My heart is cracking in my chest, and it feels like it finally splits in two as the EMTs wheel the stretcher out of the kitchen. They bandaged Taylor’s neck, but blood is already seeping through it. Her skin is ashen compared to the white sheet under her.

I can’t do this. I can’t handle any of this. I need to go, to leave. To put distance between me and this fucked morning. I turn to the door and Scott tries to stop me, but I shove hard at his chest.

He staggers back but rights himself before he can fall. “What the hell, Dalton?!” He blinks at me when tears start pouring freely down my cheeks. “Val,” his voice softens with worry. “Talk to me.”

I shake my head at him. “Can’t,” I reply desperately, clutching my hands to my chest as I back away from him towards the front door. “Please.”

Scott’s face contorts into a mask of concern as I hobble away from him. “Do you want to come to the hospital with me? For Taylor?” he offers in a gentle voice.

So I can ruin her life even more? Put her in more jeopardy than I already have? I don’t think so. She’s safer away from me. “No,” I cry.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs the back of his neck. “Alright. Well, go get some sleep. We can meet up and debrief later.” I’m already at the door when he adds a pointless, “Be careful!”

It’s far too late for that.

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