Chapter Twenty-Five #2
We turn and run, our shoes slapping the concrete. I can see another faint glow ahead. An exit sign. Escape. Only it’s not escape, is it? It’ll take us out of the busy club, and if there really is someone chasing us, we should not be going outside, away from people.
Isolde hits the push bar, and the door flies open. I’m about to dig in my heels when a hand slams between my shoulder blades. I stumble outside behind Isolde, knocking her forward. My attacker grabs the back of my dress, but I twist free, hearing a seam rip.
I swing around, and all I see are shapes in the pitch-dark of an alley, towering buildings on either side blocking all light. The shapes are blurred motion, and I can’t tell which is Isolde and which is our attacker.
There’s a street fifty feet away, with traffic rushing past. I need to get there. No, I need to get us there.
Isolde screams, a high-pitched yowl of pain and terror. I charge toward the noise. She’s on the ground, and the figure is over her. I punch at it. Her attacker staggers. Then something strikes my arm, sending pain slashing through it.
Scream! The street is right there.
I open my mouth, and a fist connects with my stomach. I fly backward, hitting the wall. The figure is over Isolde again, his hand raised. I run at him, punching, kicking, screaming, finally screaming.
He grabs me, and it’s so dark. I can’t see his face or anything except his size, and I’m fighting with everything I have, screaming as loud as I can—
A shout, pure rage. My attacker drops me and wheels as someone runs at us. Then my attacker is running, too, trampling me as he races down the alley.
Hands lift me up, a face over mine, dark eyes bright with fear.
“Maddox?” I croak.
“You’re bleeding. You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I manage. “It’s just my arm. Where’s Isolde?”
Maddox glances around but doesn’t release me until I gently remove his hands, and then I’m running to Isolde. She’s on the ground, unmoving.
“Call 911!” I shout.
“Already did.” Maddox drops onto Isolde’s other side and fumbles to get his phone out. When he turns on the light, her eyes flutter open and she groans.
“Blood,” I whisper as I pat her black dress, trying to find the source. As I do, I see my arm, the slash on it, blood dripping. “He had a knife. He must have stabbed her. There’s blood on her dress.”
The wail of a siren as Maddox and I search for the source of the blood pooling beneath Isolde.
“Here!” he says. “Her side.”
He yanks off his hoodie and presses it against the wound. Isolde moans and writhes. I find another slash on her arm, but it seems as shallow as the one on mine.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” I ask Isolde. “Can you tell me where—?”
The thunder of footsteps. A paramedic shines a flashlight on us, and we move back as she takes over. Another joins her, and Maddox tugs me away. He pulls out my arm for a look.
“J-just a scratch,” I say. “I-I’m fine.”
My teeth chatter, and I’m shaking as the shock hits. He pulls me close, heat enveloping me, and I fold myself into it as I watch the paramedics work, knowing I must be patient, that I can’t scream at them to tell me Isolde will be okay.
Maddox whispers reassurances, telling me I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe, and I want to cry, because as much as I need those reassurances, he seems to need them even more.
I don’t know where he came from, how he got here, and I don’t care. I only care that he was here and he’s with me, holding me as I shake.
Finally, Maddox whispers, “I think we can ask now,” and he guides me over to where the paramedics are putting Isolde on a gurney.
“Is she okay?” I say, my teeth chattering.
“I’m fine,” Isolde whispers, her voice almost too hoarse to be heard.
“She’s stable,” one paramedic says. “I’ll need to check you over in a moment.”
I’m nodding when Theo barrels out of the club door. He sees me, and he runs to us.
“Lil,” he manages to get out. “What—?”
“She’s all right,” Maddox says.
“Why?” That word comes so soft I think I’m mishearing as I follow it to Isolde. She’s on the gurney, gaze fixed on Theo, eyes brimming with tears. “Why?”
“I’m sorry,” Theo says. “I shouldn’t have let you both out of my sight. I—”
“No,” she whispers. “Why did you do it?”
He goes still, confusion knocking everything else from his expression. “Why did I do what?”
“This.” Tears spill. “I saw you, Theo. I saw your face when you…when you…when you stabbed me.”
“What?” Theo reels back, his eyes huge. “Me? I-I was inside. I’d never—What?”
The gurney is already being wheeled away, and all we can do is stand there and stare as they load her into the ambulance.
Then Theo spins on me, and the terror in his face is heartbreaking. “I didn’t do this, Lil. I swear. I’d never—”
“I know,” I say.
“I screwed up, Mads. I thought I was keeping an eye on Lil, and then I couldn’t see her and…You counted on me.”
“It’s okay,” Maddox says.
“No, it’s not. Isolde got hurt, and Lil—Shit! She’s bleeding.” He takes my arm.
“Just a scratch,” I say as I lean against him. “I’m worried about Isolde. Once the paramedics check my arm, I want to go to the hospital.”
“I’ll take you,” Theo says. “We’ll all go—”
Someone clears their throat, and we turn to see two uniformed officers.
“Right,” I say. “I need to talk to you. Tell you what happened.”
“I’ll get your car,” Theo says.
“No,” one officer says. “You aren’t going anywhere, young man.”