“I love you,” I tell him.
“I—”
“—Isn’t that fucking sweet?” A male voice comes from behind us. Colt instantly tenses.
“She’s got him whipped. At least you were smart enough to keep someone fun on the side, G.”
Colt whips around. I feel the anger rolling off of him.
Gregory and three of his friends stand behind us. I smell beer. One of them has a bottle in his hand that he drinks from.
I try to wrap my arms around Colt from behind. We don’t need this right now. “Let’s just go.”
He shakes me off.
“Going to listen to your girl? Don’t have a big mouth like you did the other day?” This from Gregory.
“Please fucking hit me, Pretty Boy. I’m begging you. I won’t even fight back at first,” Colt steps forward. Again I grab his arm and he pulls away.
“Don’t do this.” I know this isn’t even fully about Gregory. He wants to hurt because of his mom. He wants to hurt someone else because of her. I look at Gregory and shout, “You have the worst timing ever. Leave him alone.”
“Get in the car, Tiny Dancer.” Another step, but I’m right behind him.
“What are you guys even doing here?” I stand next to Colt who again tries to push me behind him.
“He’s always showing up where we party. Getting in our business so we thought it was time we returned the favor.” My stomach rolls at the sound of Gregory’s voice. I can’t even believe this is him. Was he always like this? Something college has done to him?
“Are we just gonna sit around and talk or did you guys come here for a reason?” Colt’s voice is tight as he eggs them on. A few steps and he’s right in front of Gregory, almost nose to nose with him. “You wanted to teach me a lesson, Pretty Boy? Do it.” And then he pushes Gregory.
Gregory stumbles backward.
“What the fuck. Kick his ass, G!” One of his friends yells.
“Don’t let that pussy get the best of you again!” Another says.
It all happens so fast from there. Colt pushes me back as Gregory charges, hitting Colt across the middle. They both stumble. Fall backward. I watch him fall in slow motion…down…down. His head cracks loudly on the curb, Gregory on top of him. I scream, but it’s like my body’s gone into some sort of shock from disbelief. This cannot be happening.
Colt doesn’t move.
“Holy shit!” Gregory scrambles off him. Everything seems normal. Colt looks normal, but it’s obvious he’s not. Gregory sees it too. “It was an accident. I didn’t fucking mean it!” He’s pacing.
Hot tears run down my face. There isn’t blood. Why isn’t there blood? I’m not sure if that’s good or not. My throat hurts, it’s raw as I scream and scream. I shove Gregory aside, drop and crawl to Colt. I touch his chest. Stomach. Want to pull his head to my lap, but don’t think I should.
My tears hit him, puddling on his shirt. “Get help! Call someone!” I cry. Why isn’t he moving? Please let him move.
“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” yells one of them.
Tires squeal at the same time feet hit the ground running.
Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die. Over and over and over the words flow through my head.
I scream, lean over and hold him. “Colt. I’m here. I’m going to get some help.” Then I’m fighting when someone tries to pull me away from him.
“Cheyenne!” It’s Adrian. “We need to get him to a fucking hospital.”
Adrian’s voice snaps me out of it. I jerk away as he lifts Colt up. His head flops to the side. “My phone. It’s in my car.”
“Fuck it. We’re driving him there.”
I run to Adrian’s car. I don’t know how I’m even going right now, but I know I have to. Have to do it for Colt.
I rip the door open.
“Get in,” Adrian says. He’s already laying Colt in the backseat as I try and scoot over. His head is in my lap. It doesn’t feel like there’s a big injury. I’m not sure if that matters. I keep feeling his pulse, checking his breathing.
It feels like an eternity and at the same time, only a few seconds when we get to the hospital. I hardly remember the ride. I just hold Colt the way he held me in the car not too long ago. Tell him he’ll be okay. That I love him. Should we have moved him? What if we hurt him by moving him? Too many thoughts are slamming into me.
Adrian’s out of the car and pulling Colt into his arms. We rush through the EMT entrance.
“What are you—room three,” a nurse yells when she sees Colt in Adrian’s arms.
I struggle to see through the tears blurring my vision. One of the doctors grabs Colt. They’re laying him on the bed. Two more nurses and a doctor rush in. My heart hurts. I gasp, trying to breathe.
“Please help him.” I try to get into the room.
“What happened?” someone asks.
“He was pushed and hit his head on the curb.”
One of them curses. “You’re going to have to get out of here.”
Fear spikes inside me. “No! I’m not leaving him.” He wouldn’t leave me. I know he wouldn’t.
“If you want to help him get out of here. Give them some information and give us space.” They rip the curtain closed.
Adrian catches me as I fall. “They’re going to fix him. Let them do their job.”
“He just lost his mom,” I sob. Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. “I don’t want to leave him.”
“You’re not,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re making it so they can take care of him. He knows you wouldn’t leave him.”
My eyes find Adrian. His are bloodshot and I wonder if it’s from crying or being high. Whatever the reason, he’s somehow calming. And he cares about Colt. He’s a good friend.
“Excuse me, miss? We need to get some information from you,” a dark-haired nurse asks.
I nod. After glancing once more at the closed curtain of Colt’s room I follow her. Adrian stays with me the whole time—helping with some of the information on Colt. I don’t even know his birthday. How can I not know his birthday?
I tell them what happened. They call the cops, promising to let me know the second they know anything about him.
My legs are shaking so bad it’s hard to walk, but I can’t make myself sit down either. Adrian watches me the whole time, but doesn’t speak. He’s always so laid back, but right now, he’s uptight. Tense. He looks as panicky as I feel.
The cops come and we still don’t know anything about Colt. I tell them what happened. They want to know who pushed who first. I don’t want to tell them since it was Colt. It was all a screwed-up accident.
I give them Gregory’s full name. I don’t know anyone else’s.
“Her ex-boyfriend is an asshole. He’s a spoiled, rich kid who doesn’t like to lose and he lost.” Adrian storms out of the room. Guilt knocks the air out of me. Choking me. This is all because of me. Because of the stupid game I made him play.
I finish giving them information and give them my phone number. I’m walking away as I say the last numbers. I wring my hands together as I approach the desk. “I need to check on Colton.” I’m almost scared to ask, but I need to know. He has to be okay. Has to.