Page 104 of Lovesick
My vision flickers and everything hurts, the world too bright and too dark at once.
“I, I can’t-” I gasp, gripping his shirt. “The baby, something’s wrong, Gore, please.”
He doesn’t speak; he just runs with me in his arms.
Through the haze of agony, I twist to look for Billy, my chin coming over Gore’s shoulder, watching as Tolly and Rune lift Billy from the ground. He’s struggling to his feet, staggering after us, every movement agony, but refusing to stop, refusing to let me slip out of his sight.
He mouths my name.
Over and over.
Like a chant.
A plea.
A prayer.
A vow.
I reach toward him, fingers stretching, but the pain swallows the edges of my vision and the world tilts sideways.
The door to the infirmary bursts open.
Hands reach for me.
Voices blur.
Everything spirals.
I hear Gore’s voice, stern, loud, commanding.
And then Billy’s, raw, feral, terrified, somewhere further away, “Don’t take her, don’t you fucking take her away from me! Gore! Penelope. Penelope!”
I want to answer, tell him I’m here, I’m scared, tell him I love him. But the pain daggers through me like a blunt kitchen knife carving me open, and it drags me under. The last thing I feel is the warm, awful rush of blood between my thighs, Billy screaming my name, and the ceiling blurring into darkness as everything disappears.
Then there’s nothing.
Only black.
Chapter 38
BILLY
Idon’t remember getting here.
I don’t remember hallways or doors or people shouting, the hands grabbing at me, trying to pull me back, telling me I was bleeding everywhere and I needed help.
All I remember is the sound she made when she went down, a soft, broken gasp that didn’t belong to something living.
A sound that ended too fast, endedher.
Now she lies on the metal table, limp as a body that’s already been surrendered to the earth, and something inside me fractures so loudly I’m amazed the entire room isn’t deafened by it.
There is blood everywhere.
Her blood.
It stains the sheets, the floor, the hands of the people who rush around her like frantic ghosts. They shout numbers at each other, call for tools, bark orders I can’t process. The room pulses with panic, and all of it funnels straight into my bones until I feel like I’m going to rip myself apart.
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