Page 110 of Broken & Bound

“Go with Isabella. Don’t leave her. Text you,” I managed.

“Do it now. I will meet you at the hospital. Text me as soon as you’re inside the ambulance.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I approached the paramedics, who were assessing Isabella. “We need to get her to hospital,” one said, worry lacing his tone. “Do you know what happened here?”

“No, I…she’s pregnant.” The words barely escaped. “About sixteen weeks, twins.”

They rushed her out, and I followed, trying to understand how quickly things had gone from excited to horrific in a matter of minutes. I climbed in back with her and tried not to cry.

Carefully, I reached across the stretcher. Hooked my pinky around hers. And gave three gentle squeezes.

I’m here.

The noise. It was everywhere. But it wasn’t just voices. There were sirens. It filled my ears until it drowned everything else out. Something was wrong. There was pressure all around me. My eyes, my ears, my entire face. Everything hurt.

Pain flared against my ribs, stealing what little air remained before I could drag another breath inside. My body lurched. Or maybe the world had. I couldn’t tell any more.

The memory came in flashes. Playing like a low budget horror film. One second I was standing on the ladder. Thinking about my babies. The next… Weightlessness.

It had only lasted a second. Then there was the impact. Concrete had slammed into me so hard my teeth bit into my tongue. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Only a hollow gasp.

Pain followed close behind it. But in waves. It bloomed, spreading out from everywhere. Relentless and utterly wrong. My body couldn’t decide what hurt worse.

My head. My shoulder. My ribs. My stomach. Dear God… My stomach.

I reached for it instinctively. The girls. Please. Let them be okay. I blinked, trying to focus, but everything blurred together.

The ceiling above me shifted in and out, shadows moving where they shouldn’t. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t make the pieces connect. My fingers twitched, but even that felt delayed, like the signal had to travel too far to reach me.

My mind may as well have been a broken projector, flashing strobe-light images against the dark. Hannah on top of me. Her weight pinning me to the ground. Then a violent blur of movement, followed by the heat of her blood spraying across my face.

Kinsley.

A wild look in her eyes as she held her blade. It dripped thick, dark crimson. She pried Hannah’s fingers off my throat, and air rushed into my lungs. Kinsley shoved her off of me. I remembered the heavy thud of Hannah hitting the floor.

Did I make all of it up?

Was my brain hallucinating a savior because the alternative was too dark? No. She was there. I could still feel the phantom grip of her fingers digging into my shoulder.

“Kinsley?” I choked out, but the word dissolved against the oxygen mask strapped to my face. The plastic fogged up with my frantic breath.

I strained my ears over the screaming wail of the siren. She had been singing. Amazing Grace. I couldn’t hear her any more. Only the steady, frantic beep of the heart monitor.

The babies?

Cold, blind panic flooded my system, making the heart monitor spike into a terrifying sound. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but everything was blurry and distorted. I couldn’t think straight.

“Please…” The word scraped out of me, raw and broken. The taste of blood on my tongue choked me. “The babies…”

“Miss, we’re en route to hospital. Please, remain as still as you can.”

Hospital? The noise now made sense. Every bounce of the tires sent a white-hot sheet of agony roaring through my pelvis, tearing a ragged gasp from my throat.

“I’m here, Isabella.”

Tori? She was here? How? Why? I whimpered as our eyes met.