Anguish

“Mack!” I scream.

He’s nearly at the door when I see her through the back window. Ash is out in the yard, coming from the trees. She’s a fair distance away, and she looks frantic.

“MACK!” I cry again. “Ash, she’s in the yard.”

He gets me through the door, and spins to me, all while pulling out his gun. “Someone will get her. Do not fuckin’ go out there. Stay here, away from the windows. You get a gun and you fuckin’ shoot.”

Then he’s gone.

Gone.

Santana is gathering the women, all of them except Ash.

“Ash is out there!” I scream.

She turns to me, her face white. She scans the room, and then her hand goes to her throat.

“I’m getting her,” I yell. “They guys are all around the front; they won’t see her. I don’t have time to wait for them to get to her. ”

“Jaylah, no!” Santana yells. “Let them. Don’t go out there.”

I don’t listen; I don’t stop.

I run out the front door. Gunfire is everywhere. That’s when I see her. My entire body goes still. She’s on the ground, blood pouring from her chest. No. My mind screams at me, and I can see bikes surrounding the clubhouse. Loud explosions are everywhere. Where’s Krypt? Where is he? Why isn’t he helping her? Why isn’t anyone helping her? Then I remember; Krypt isn’t here. He went out. Oh God, he’s not here to help her.

They were meant to help her, and they didn’t. I can’t leave her there.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” I hear Mack roar. “Jaylah, don’t.”

I turn. Half of the club members are back inside, loading up on weapons. Maddox glares at me. Mack’s eyes are wild, and both are giving me a clear warning.

“Ash, she’s down,” I scream. “I’m not leaving her.”

“Jaylah,” Mack roars as I spin. “You fuckin’ stay there. We got this.”

“You don’t!” I scream, and then I leap off the porch.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Maddox booms. “Get them fuckin’ covered. Pull back the explosion.”

I run full-throttle towards Ash. Voices are everywhere, gunshots, screams, and explosions. I don’t focus on those; I focus on Ash. I make it to her in record time, and she’s covered in so much blood. She’s not awake. God, please, please don’t let her die. I have to get her somewhere safe. I glance around quickly. I can’t take her inside; it’s too far. Instead, I lift her hands, and I drag her back into the trees.

A gunshot flies by my head, and my heart begins to pound so hard I find it difficult to breathe. I drop to my knees, sheltering Ash and I behind a thick lot of trees. Then I reach down, pressing my hand to her neck. Motherfucker, her pulse is barely there, if at all. Her face is going blue. God, she’s struggling to breathe. I rip off my shirt, tears streaming down my face, and I press it to the flowing wound.

“Stay with me, Ash, please,” I cry.

I have to breathe for her; I have to. I pull off my pants next; they’re stretch material. I roll them beneath her and bring them up and around, tying them tightly so the material holds the pressure on her chest, then I check her out. I go with her airways first; they’re slightly blocked with blood. I tilt her head slightly, allowing the liquid to run out. I hiccup loudly. Get it together. Get it together.

I lean down, and I start breathing into her mouth. I’m not entirely sure if it’s pointless or not, but I won’t stop. I breathe into her until I can hardly breathe myself. Her pulse is there; faint, but there. My hands, my arms, my body, they’re all covered in her blood. I’m crying so hard I can’t see, but I don’t stop. I push breath into her body over and over as gunfire sounds out around me.

I don’t know how long I’m there. I don’t count the minutes. I just breathe into her until it feels as if razors are pushing in and out of my lungs, and my head is spinning. Her color isn’t as blue, and I know it’s helping her. When she takes her own, ragged breath that’s deeper and sturdier, I crumble. My hands go around her head gently and I press her to my chest. “Please, hold on, Ash. Hold on.”

I hold her there for minutes, hours—I don’t know. Soon, the gunfire is gone and voices are bellowing around us. Footsteps, then Krypt and Mack are beside me. Krypt drops to his knees, but my hands are firmly around Ash, and I refuse to let go. “She wasn’t breathing w-w-w-w-well,” I whisper. “I breathed for her.”

Tears fall from Krypt’s eyes, and he rasps, “No.”

My body jerks for him. He reaches out, pulling her into his arms. Mack is already calling an ambulance. I try to stand, sway, and then because of my lack of proper breathing, I crash into the dirt. My eyes flutter closed as my brain kicks in and tries to take over. Hands are on my body, words are being frantically whispered into my ear, but it’s too late.

I’m out.

~*~*~*~

I wake in a hospital bed, still covered in Ash’s blood. I’ve got clothes on, but my skin is still tainted with her pain. Mack is by my side, staring at the wall, his face blank. I reach out, and the moment my fingers curl around his he turns to me. His eyes, they’re so angry. So angry.

“Mack,” I croak.

“I’ll get the doctor.”

He stands, and then he’s gone. My heart cracks open. I don’t understand. Why is he angry with me? As I wait for him to come back, my eyes well with more tears. He returns a minute later, with an elderly man. The man introduces himself, checks me over, and tells me I’m okay to go, that I’m going to be fine.