CHAPTER 24
Eric
I blame that last shot for the fact my feet aren’t cooperating with my legs. Actually, could be the shoes. They are new, after all. I didn’t want to embarrass Jordan by wearing “stuffy old man shoes”, as he calls them.
“It’s not your shoes, buddy. And don’t worry. Jordy loves you and your old man shoes.”
Fuck, did I just say that out loud?
I swing my head a little too fast to the side to look at Pete, who is giggling at me as I’m trying to right myself. There is a strong grip on my other arm, keeping me from tipping too far to the side. When I turn to see who it is, I over-correct and end up bouncing off Gavin’s body. Ugh, that last shot of tequila is threatening to make a reappearance. Holding back a burp I’m not sure will just be a burp, I take a deep breath and concentrate on making it to the door.
“Sorry for this, man. Do you think Lashes will be mad at me?” I ask loudly, hoping one of these guys hears me, because turning my head from side to side feels like a bad idea while I can still taste tequila at the back of my throat.
“No, Eric, he isn’t mad. If anything, he’s happy that you can fit in so easily with this group of halfwits.”
I smile goofily at Gavin’s reassurance. That was what I was hoping to hear, what I was hoping to do tonight. Probably shouldn’t have done it by getting shitfaced, but it seemed to work. So I can’t really complain.
As we reach the door we are forced back by a bunch of people running inside screaming. My body tenses and I do my best to shake off the fuzzy cloud over my brain. The atmosphere instantly changes and suddenly people are on high alert. I look at Gavin, who has stopped walking, holding me next to him in a tight grip as he tries to figure out what is going on.
I hear Pete sucking in a sharp breath before taking off running. He’s short and petite and manages to slip between people to force his way outside. It’s only then that I remember Jordan went outside. Whatever people are running from is out there.
“Jordan!” I yell, shrugging Gavin off as I push my way through the crowd. There’s no fucking space, so I have to make some any way I can. I wouldn't normally be so rough and throw around my weight like this, but my heart is starting to pound as panic sets in.
“Jordan!” I try again, standing on the very tips of my toes to yell above the chaos, but my voice just gets lost among the screaming. Gavin is right at my back forcing me to keep going now that Pete is out there too. He doesn’t seem to have the same worries as me about hurting people. The guy has turned into a bulldozer.
“Jordan!” I call again as we finally step out into the night. There seem to be people everywhere. I can hear sirens in the distance and my panic starts to mount. I follow Gavin as he pushes his way through a bunch of people suspiciously crowded around something. Gavin’s voice booms as he yells at people to move, and a gap immediately opens in the sea of bodies.
Pete is there, on his knees, his back is to me so I have no idea what he’s doing on the ground. Stumbling forward, my eyes catch on a pair of legs. And at the end of those legs are red-bottomed boots. I stop breathing. Jordan is laying on the ground, Pete is kneeling over him, and now that I'm closer I can hear his cries. Gavin is trying to pull him back, but he’s fighting his husband.
I feel like I am in some kind of nightmare. I want to run, but I can’t. Everything is going in slow motion as I look past Pete to see Jordan lying on the ground. He looks peaceful. Like he laid down to take a nap.
Look at your outfit, baby. You’ve spilled… what kind of cocktail is that color?
Dropping heavily to the ground, I feel my knees protest at the impact, but I ignore it as I try to process what I'm seeing. A pained cry I don't even recognize roars from my throat and I grab Jordan's hand. It's started raining now. I watch droplets fall on my hand as I grip onto my Lashes.
“It’s raining. We need to cover him,” I say frantically. “He will be so pissed when he wakes up all wet.” I pull at my shirt as I look up at Gavin, who is trying to console Pete. “Give me your jacket. It's okay, Pete. He’s napping, but we need to protect him from the rain.” I sound crazy to my own ears.
A jacket appears seemingly out of nowhere, covering my now-bare shoulders as I tuck my shirt over Jordan. I try to shrug it off, but hands land heavy on my shoulder and start to pull me to my feet. I fight against it.
“What the fuck are you doing? We need to cover him from the rain!” I yell.
“It’s not raining, Eric. You need to move out of the way so the paramedics can help him.” Drew sounds like he's speaking to me underwater.
“What are you talking about? Get off me! He needs to be covered while he naps!”
“It’s not raining, Eric. You’re crying. It’s your tears. Jordan isn’t napping; he's been shot. You need to let them help him. ”
Drew’s words stun me long enough for the paramedics to push past and drop beside Jordan.
I watch in pure horror as the severity of the situation finally sinks in. Jordan’s lifeless body is covered in blood that is pouring from his chest. There is so much of it. You don’t realise how much blood there is in the human body until you can see it leaking out of a person. Not just any person. My person.
I have no idea how long Jordan has been lying there bleeding out. I have lost my ability to speak. Drew still sounds like he’s underwater and my whole body feels like it's made of lead.
“We have a pulse. Move, move, move!” one of the paramedics calls out. As one, they pick Jordan up on a stretcher and start running to the ambulance with him. I move on instinct to follow, but once again Drew pulls me back and I have to restrain myself from punching him in the jaw.
“Come with me. We will take you to the hospital. Focus for me, Eric. They aren't going to let you in with him. Pete has called Jordan’s parents. We have to be patient until they get here.”
I can see his lips moving and sounds coming out, but I can’t make any sense of it. I don’t feel drunk anymore, but I must be.
“You’re in shock, Eric. Just come with us, okay? We will get you to the hospital.” He gently but firmly starts to lead me toward Gavin’s truck.
“Wait, where is Pete?” I ask, turning back to the scene and for the first time registering just how many people have been standing around watching.
“He went with the ambulance. He had Jordan’s parents on the phone answering questions and giving consent for surgery.”
My head snaps back to Drew. Fear is flooding my senses.
I have always been calm in court. I have faced some insane criminals and stood tall. I believed foolishly that I would be a take-action person in an emergency. Not in this case. My fight or flight just fucking froze. Tears are still streaming down my face. I don’t even try to wipe them away. It's pointless; they’re just gonna keep on coming anyway.
Drew clicks his fingers in front of my face to bring my attention back to him. “Let's go, Eric. Jordan needs you, man.”
I suck in a shaky breath and nod. Drew is right. Taking one step at a time, I stumble to the car and slide into the passenger seat.
The walk from the parking lot to the emergency room doors feels like the green mile. Like I'm headed to my execution, because if Jordan doesn’t come through this it might as well be. I already knew the feelings I had for my Lashes were more. More passionate, more powerful, more all-consuming, and now it feels so ridiculous that I fought them. I should have told him. He should know that I need him, that without him I’m struggling to catch a breath.
The emergency room doors open with a whoosh and Pete runs toward us. There is blood all over his shirt and his hands. Jordan’s blood. It makes my stomach lurch and I stop dead in my tracks. The urge to throw up overwhelms me and I take a sharp turn, managing to make it to the trash can. The horrendous smell emanating from the trash has me heaving until there is nothing left in my stomach. I can feel a small hand rubbing circles on my back.
“That’s it, get rid of all that alcohol. Jordan is in surgery and he is going to be looking for you as soon as he wakes up, so you’re gonna have to pull yourself together.” Pete sounds calm. Confident. But I’m so stunned by everything that all I can do is nod blankly in response.
“Wonderful. Now you come sit with me while Drew goes to the store and grabs some essentials for us,” Pete continues. “Jordan’s parents will be here in a few hours, and by then he will be through surgery. He’s going to be fine. Pissed, but fine.”
I appreciate Pete’s attempt to lighten the mood, but I can’t stop staring at the streaks of blood on his shirt and getting flashbacks of Jordan’s body lying on the ground.
A sad smile crosses Pete’s lips, like he understands and he doesn’t need me to voice my pain. Which is good because the lump in my throat is so thick I doubt words could pass it. I have no idea how he is standing here trying to soothe me when his best friend is fighting for his life. He is clearly made of stronger stuff than I am.
Following Pete inside, I drop into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs beside Gavin. He hands me a hoodie without saying a word. I stare at it for a moment, then remember I took my shirt off to put over Jordan. Have I been shirtless this whole time and not even realised? Scrubbing my hand down my face, I try to get a hold of myself. What must I look like to these people who I barely know?
“I’m going to grab coffee, Jelly Bean. No more running off on me, okay?” Gavin warns his husband, before planting a kiss to his lips and heading in the direction of the cafe.
Pulling the hoodie over my head, I cover myself. Pete slips his hand into mine, squeezing it tight.
“He will be okay.” Pete’s eyes meet mine in defiance, then drop down to the floor as he mutters, “He has to be.” I can tell he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is me.
This time, I squeeze his hand. The next few hours are going to be harrowing for both of us. I can only imagine how Jordan’s parents must feel, stuck in the air, unable to do anything. Not that we can do anything either, but at least we can be close to him.