Chapter 20
TWENTY
SEBASTIAN
Even knowing that she’s fine. Even knowing that she’s safe.
Even knowing that this is all a ruse orchestrated by her, my heart is still beating wildly in my chest when Hunter screeches to a stop and I see Chief Turner standing beside the open trunk of Courtney’s car with Starling crumpled like a broken doll inside.
“Starling,” I yell, jumping out and sprinting to her. “Fuck, Little Bird, fuck,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I reach in and cup her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath on my thumb when I place it on her lips.
“Hank,” Chief Turner calls as the outside noise filters in and Courtney’s shrill cries, protests, and threats echo off the derelict buildings around us.
“An ambulance is on its way. Her pulse is steady, but we found a syringe inside the car, so we believe that she is under the influence of some kind of intravenous drug, although we don’t know what she’s been injected with,” Chief Turner says, his voice trailing off as he leaves to help the uniformed officer get a kicking and screaming Courtney into the police cruiser.
“Get off me,” she yells over and over, but I ignore her, slipping my arms under Starling’s back and carefully lifting her from the trunk and into my arms. The skin I can see on her arms and legs is cool to the touch, and she’s still, so fucking still, that even though I know she’s alive, I still fear that she’ll never wake up, that this will be the last time I ever see her.
In my periphery, I hear the sound of a door shutting, followed by metallic thuds, and when I glance to my right, Courtney is losing her shit in the back of the cruiser, her eyes wild, her hair messy as she kicks at the barrier between the front and rear seats, like the mentally unstable criminal we’ve painted her to be.
I don’t hear them approach, but when I look up, my family is surrounding us, all of their expressions as worried as I feel. “Is she okay?” Evan asks, his mouth downturned, his grip on Sammy so tight the skin on both of their hands has turned white.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
All of us fall silent as Chief Turner arrives at our side, his eyes full of concern. “The ambulance is about ten minutes out.”
I nod, holding her close to me, willing her to stir, to wake up and move or speak or something, but as minutes pass, she just stays a lifeless doll in my arms.
“It’s been too long, she should be awake,” Evan mutters beneath his breath, pacing back and forth the few inches he can go without letting go of Sammy.
The sound of sirens fills the air, and we all turn toward the street when two cruisers and a black van with the Green Acres Police Department logo on the side arrive, their lights flashing wildly.
“What’s going on?” Clay asks, Chief Turner.
“We may have discovered some evidence of what exactly Ms. Ortega planned to do with Mrs. Lockwood after she brought her here,” Chief Turner says, looking uncomfortable.
“I don’t understand,” I say as Starling finally starts to move, her fingers twisting in the fabric of my shirt.
More sirens flood the chaotic air as an ambulance careens off the street and toward the small lot that’s now packed with police cruisers, uniformed officers, and people in overalls carrying cases full of equipment.
Chief Turner steps back as the EMTs jump from the ambulance, taking my wife from my arms and placing her on a gurney. Their movements are fast and chaotic but professional, as they quickly assess her, talking animatedly as they start to push the gurney away from me.
“One of you can come with us, but we need to get a tox screen and see what drugs are in her system ASAP,” one of the EMTs says, his focus on Starling, the rest of us simply not important enough to warrant a second look.
“I’m coming,” I say, already moving in the direction of the ambulance.
“Are you taking her to Green Acres Memorial?” someone asks.
“Yes,” the EMT says, only waiting long enough for me to climb aboard before he closes the door and we’re careening away from the warehouse, the police, my friends, and the woman whose life we just ruined.