Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Miles
I lean back against the bar, my whiskey glass empty.
The clatter of footsteps pulls my attention.
Alexa and Cheyenne emerge from upstairs, shaking their heads like they just lost a battle.
Alexa’s voice is tight with frustration. “She won’t listen,”
“Just give her time,” Cheyenne adds, but her eyes betray her worry.
I exhale sharply, rubbing my hand down my buzz cut.
This isn’t like Song.
Not at all.
I glance at Siren, who’s polishing glasses behind the bar, her brow furrowed.
She looks worried too, but of course she is. Song is her sister.
“She’s pushing us away, Suyin,” I say. “This isn’t like her in the least bit.”
“Yeah, I know.” Siren sighs, setting a glass down with a thud. “But she’s been through hell, Miles.”
“That doesn’t mean she gets to shut out the people who actually give a damn about her.” My voice is harsher than I intended.
“Maybe she just needs?—”
“Support,” I finish for her. “Not isolation.”
“Exactly.” Siren brushes a stray hair behind her ear, her concern evident. “But it takes time. She’ll have to warm up to the idea of us helping her.”
“Time?” I shake my head, frustration bubbling inside. “Time ain’t gonna help her if she keeps this up.”
“Let’s just give her a moment,” Siren says softly, but I can see the doubt in her eyes.
“Moments run out, you know? You think she’ll be okay?” I ask, searching her face for any sign of hope.
“She will. I know she will.” Siren replies, though I can hear the uncertainty.
“Yeah? I don’t think she will, Suyin. Not if we sit back and do nothing.” I take a breath, feeling the weight settle on my chest.
Cheyenne and Alexa make their way over to us. I ask the million dollar question. “Well, what happened when you were up there?”
“She screamed at us,” Alexa says, her voice trembling. “Told us to get out. Told me she didn’t wanna hear about my story.”
Bull comes up behind Alexa and squeezes her shoulders, peeps his head around to where her good eye is and kisses her forehead. “You tried, babe. That’s what matters.”
She frowns slightly, “I only want to help her get through this, knowing all too well what it can do to you.”
I down the last of my whiskey, the burn settling deep in my gut.
I slam the glass onto the bar, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Damn it.”
“Miles, are you okay?” Cheyenne asks, worry etched across her brow.
“Fuck no. I’m going upstairs. I’m gonna talk some damn sense into this woman.” I push past them, determination hardening my chest as I stride toward the staircase.
“Good luck,” Siren calls after me, but I don’t look back.
Each step feels like a weight on my shoulders, dread pooling in my stomach.
I reach her door and knock. Silence answers, thick and suffocating.
“Song?” I call out, my voice rough.
There’s no response.
I hesitate for a moment, then push the door open. “Look, I know you’re mad. I get you want to be left alone, but we’re all here to support you. It’s not wrong to lean on the people you love when you’re struggling.”
The room is dim, shadows dancing along the walls.
My heart races as I scan the space.
The bed is unmade, clothes strewn about, but… no Song.
Alexa and Cheyenne just came from up here, so she couldn’t have gotten far.
“Where the hell are you?” I mutter, anxiety creeping in.
I step inside, the floor creaking under my weight.
I raise my voice, panic clawing at my throat. “Song?”
Still nothing.
“Come on,” I breathe, moving deeper into the room.
My eyes dart around, searching every corner, the knot in my stomach tightening.
I glance at the bathroom door, slightly ajar.
It’s quiet. Too quiet.
I stride over and shove it open.
“Song, come on.”
The door jams against something heavy.
I shove harder, straining against the weight.
Okay, she’s in here.
“Come on, Song! Let me in!”
I push and I shove with all my might.
Finally, it swings wide, revealing tiles soaked in crimson.
“Shit!”
My blood runs cold.
There she is—on the floor, unconscious.
Blood oozes from her wrists, pooling around her like a dark halo.
“No, no, no!” I rush forward, my heart racing, each beat echoing in my ears.
I drop to my knees beside her.
Panic grips me. I grab her shoulders, shaking gently.
Her skin feels ice-cold.
“Come on, don’t do this!”
I swallow hard, the metallic scent of blood filling the air.
I can’t think straight.
I need to act.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, desperation clawing at my throat.
I glance around, searching for something—anything—to help.
My shirt.
It’ll have to do.
I tear the fabric, the sound ripping through the silence.
I bind her wrists as tightly as I can manage, trying to staunch the flow.
“God, please,” I murmur, cradling her head in my lap. “You can’t leave me like this.”
Her hazel green eyes, usually so full of fire, are closed.
I refuse to let this be the end.
I scoop her up, cradling her against my chest.
She’s lighter than I expected, but the weight of dread crushes me.
I push through her bedroom door, nearly stumbling down the hall.
Panic fuels my legs. I burst onto the stairwell, my heart racing.
“Help! Somebody help!”
Faces turn—Cheyenne, Bull, Alexa, Siren.
They freeze when they see Song in my arms, eyes wide.
“What happened?” Cheyenne gasps, stepping closer.
My voice booms, desperate and raw. “She slit her wrists!”
“Shit, no!” Bull’s eyes darken.
“We have to get her to a hospital! Now!” My words are clipped, urgency dripping from each syllable.
“Let’s go!” Siren screams, already moving.
“Move!” I shout again, shifting Stiletto in my arms.
The warmth of her body feels wrong against the coldness of her skin.
“Go, go!”
As we rush toward the door, it feels like I can barely breathe.
“You don’t get to die today, Song, not when we haven’t even started our story.”
I push through the front door into the frigid air.
Snow swirls around us, a white storm that matches the chaos inside my head.
Song’s weight in my arms is like a lead ball dragging me down.
Siren shouts, her voice cutting through the howling wind.“Which truck?!”
Bull yells, already pulling open the passenger door to one of the club’s pickup trucks. “That one!”
I holler, panic flooding my voice. “Get in, get in!”
The others scramble, Cheyenne climbing into the back with me, her eyes wide with fear.
She holds down on one of Song’s wrists, while I hold the other one, praying to whoever’s up in the sky to make sure she doesn’t die.
With Bull in the driver’s seat the engine roars to life, a grumbling beast pushing against the snow.
“Hold on tight, Miles,” Siren breathes, looking back at me from the passenger seat. I can feel her tension radiating off her. “We’ll get her there.”
Blood still seeps through the makeshift bandage.
God, she needs help and fast.
The truck lurches forward, tires crunching over packed snow.
I bounce slightly in my seat, holding Song close.
Her skin feels ice-cold under my fingers.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, brushing a strand of her red hair from her face. “You’ve got this. You’ve survived the impossible.”
Bull mutters, peering through the windshield as we hit another patch of snow. “Shit, it’s really coming down out here,”
I grit my teeth, every second stretching like a rubber band ready to snap.“Faster! We need to hurry!”
Cheyenne snaps back, but there’s worry etched across her face. “Calm down, Miles. We’re going as fast as we can! It’s a damn blizzard out there.”
“Just drive!” I roar again, anger and desperation mixing inside me.
I can’t lose her.
Bull steps on it and thankfully we don’t crash.
I don’t know how much time passes us by, only that the city lights of Billings loom ahead.
Soon enough we’re at the hospital, bright red lights of the ‘emergency room’ area piercing the snowfall.
My heart races even faster.
“Park here!” I shout as we skid to a halt.
The doors swing open before the engine dies, and I’m out in an instant.
“Wait!” Siren calls, but I can’t stop.
I sprint toward the entrance, cradling Stiletto tightly against me.
“Help! Someone help!” I scream, bursting through the sliding glass doors.
“Get a doctor! Now!” I shout at the receptionist, panic spilling out of me.
“What’s happened?” she asks, eyes wide with disbelief.
“She—” My voice chokes. “She slit her wrists. I found her, and… and she needs help, quickly.”
There’s a flurry of movement.
Nurses rush out, their faces a mix of urgency and concern.
They take her from my arms, and I feel a piece of my soul go with her.
“Please, please…” I breathe, fists clenched, terrified it’s too late.
Cheyenne steps up beside me. “We got her here as fast as we could. Now she’s in their capable hands.” Her voice trembles, but she tries to sound strong.
“Fuck, I need her to be okay.” I cry out, no one understanding the way I feel for her.
I’m sure I look raw and desperate.
“Miles,” Siren’s voice cuts through the panic. She stands there, shaking, looking at me with somber eyes. “We need to think positively right now, okay?”
“Think positively?” I snap, locking eyes with her. “I found her after she slit her fucking wrists. I saw what she did to herself, but why did she do it? Why?!”
“You bein’ a mess right now ain’t gonna help her none,” Bull steps closer, his big frame looming over us. “You think she wants you freakin’ out like this? I assure you, she doesn’t.”
I throw my hands up, frustration boiling over. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
I can’t stand still.
I need to move.
“Wait.” Cheyenne’s voice softens. “You’re supposed to wait until they let us know whatever the hell is going on. All we can do right now is pray, and trust that she’s in the most capable hands.”
“Trust them?” I scoff, pacing again. My heart races, pounding against my ribs like it's trying to escape. “What if it’s too late?”
“Don’t say that, man.” Bull shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You’re gonna make Siren worry worse,” Bull motions to Siren, who’s honestly barely holding it together.
She has a hand over her mouth and her eyes are filled with worry.
I take a deep breath, trying to settle the anxiety clawing its way in my chest.
A nurse strides past, clipboard in hand.
My gut twists. “Excuse me!” I call after her.
She doesn’t stop, but I want to grab her, shake her. “When will we know something?”
“Sir, please—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“Please, just tell me.” I lean forward, desperation edging my voice.
“Just give me a moment and I’ll see what I can find out.” She glances at me, eyes filled with sympathy as she disappears down the hall.
“See?” Cheyenne says, trying for optimism. “They’re working on her.”
“I wish I could feel better, but I’m fuckin’ worried. Okay?” I grit my teeth. “There’s so much shit I never said to her, and what happens if she’s gone? What then?”
“Stop thinking like that.” Siren reaches for my arm, grounding me. “We’re going to get through this, and we need to have some hope.”
“Hope?” I shake my head, the weight of what happened crashing over me again.
“Look, I get it, you’re worried about her,” Bull says, voice low but firm. “But she needs you strong right now. She doesn’t need ya spiraling in the lobby like a damn lunatic.”
“Strong?” I laugh, bitterly. “What does that even mean if I can’t protect her? I can’t protect her from the demons in her mind.”
“Sometimes we don’t see how bad people are hurting on the inside. It isn’t your fault, Miles.” Cheyenne urges. “She was struggling and thank God you found her. All you can do right now is be strong for her.”
“I feel like I failed her,” I admit, emotions rolling through me. “She told us all to leave, but what if it was because she had planned this? What if she didn’t want us to find her in time?”
“Then it’s good you stayed, isn’t it?” Siren’s voice is sharp. It silences me. “You didn’t fail anyone. She was hurting. That’s not on you.”
I run a hand over my face, the stubble rough under my palm. “Why do I feel like I’m losing her?”
“Because you love her.” Bull’s tone softens. “And that matters. Just hold onto that love, because I doubt things are going to be easy right out of the gate.”
Time stretches, each second dragging painfully.
I glance back at the double doors, wishing I could burst through them, demanding answers.
All I can do is stand here, heart in my throat, hoping… praying she’s okay.