12. CAROLINA BEACH, NORTH CAROLINA #3
“We have to move him,” Heather urged, her lawyer brain finally kicking in. “If the cops come and find us in an alley with a man having a medical emergency, it’s going to look worse. Get him to the sidewalk, at least, then we can say he tripped.”
I put my arm around Silas’s waist and hoisted him up.
He was dead weight, his body trembling so hard I could hear his teeth chattering.
We moved out of the alley and onto a side-street lined with restaurants.
As soon as we reached the sidewalk, Silas slumped to the side, falling against the brick wall of a seafood joint and sliding down until he was sitting on the concrete.
I dropped down with him, ignoring the curious looks from the people passing by.
“F-fuck,” Silas wheezed, dropping his head between his knees.
I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him as close as I could, shielding him from the world. “You’re safe, baby. I’m right here,” I whispered into his ear, my hand gently running through his hair, over and over. “I’m your anchor, remember? I’m not letting you go.”
Kissing his temple, I could feel the sweat sticky against his skin. The gazes from onlookers only adding to the terror running through his mind. We were two large, intimidating men huddled together on a sidewalk. We weren’t exactly blending in.
A man approached us, a younger guy wearing a dark navy pullover with “EMS” stitched on the chest. He must have been off duty at one of the nearby restaurants. “Hey, I’m a paramedic.” He crouched down a few feet away. “Everything okay? What happened?”
I looked at him, my internal alarms still screaming at the volume of a storm siren. “He’s having a panic attack. He was in a scuffle, and his shoulder got yanked. He’s had surgery on it previously, and he thinks he might have reinjured it.”
The paramedic nodded, moving closer. “Okay. Hey buddy, I’m Joel. Can you look at me? What’s your name?” Silas didn’t even lift his head. He just gripped my shirt tighter, his knuckles white and his eyes locked onto mine.
The paramedic tried again. “Sir, I need to know if you can feel your fingers. Can you move your right hand for me?”
Silas just stared at me, breathing erratically.
“He can move it,” I answered for him. “He’s just too overwhelmed right now. The shoulder is a major trigger for him.”
The paramedic frowned. “I’m sorry, but I need him to answer, man. I need to assess his level of consciousness. Can you step back a little bit? Give him some air?”
As soon as paramedic Joel moved to touch Silas’s arm, he let out a sharp gasp and lunged for my hand. His breaths spiked as he gripped my palm like it was the only thing keeping him from floating away.
“He doesn’t want me to move.” y voice hardened into a no-nonsense tone as I looked the paramedic dead in the eye. “I’m his fiancé. I’m staying right here.”
Joel paused, glancing at the ring on my finger and the look on my face, before he nodded slowly. “Alright. I’m just going to feel the joint, okay? I’m not going to pull on it.”
Huddled together on the concrete, I whispered reassurances to Silas, kissed his cheek, and held his hand as the guy did a quick check. My focus remained entirely on Silas, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw them.
The phones.
Across the street, the balcony above us, even cars parked along the road. People were standing still. But they weren’t just watching; they were filming. The light of a dozen screens reflected against the windows.
A world-famous pro wrestler, the face of the UWF, was huddled in a ball on a sidewalk hhile another man, his supposed on-screen rival, held him endearingly and called him his fiancé. Callum “Deadlock” Kincaid was kissing the shoulder of “Timeless” Silas Reed in broad daylight.
My stomach turned. This was no longer the aftermath of a bar fight. This was the end of the world as we knew it.
The paramedic sat back, the tension in his own shoulders seeming to drain into the sidewalk.
“The shoulder seems stable. It’s likely just a flare-up or a minor strain.
The pop he felt was probably nothing more than the scar tissue or the joint resetting under stress.
He needs to get it iced and get checked in the morning just to be safe, but he’s not in immediate danger. ”
“Thank you,” I said, though I barely heard him.
Reaching into Silas’s pocket, I pulled out his phone. It was already blowing up with notifications he didn’t need to see. I slid it into my own pocket with a set jaw, determined to not have my worry bleed into his spiral.
“Evan,” I called in a low voice. He was standing off to the side, staring at the crowd of onlookers with a complexion that could rival snow. “Get the cars. Now. We’re leaving.”
Silas’s head rested against my shoulder, his body and mind finally starting to settle. I kissed the top of it, ignoring the cameras, ignoring the whispers. And definitely ignoring the fact our lives were about to burn to the ground.
“I’ve got you, Si,” I whispered against his hair. “Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”