Page 89 of Saving the Rockstar

But he didn't respond, didn't move. His face was pale, his lips tinged with blue, and there was so much blood.

With shaking hands, I fumbled for my phone, dialing 911 and babbling out the details to the operator. Then I texted Dylan in panic. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All I knew was that Jared was hurt, was bleeding, and it was all my fault.

If I had just been stronger, braver... if I had just stood up to Carter from the beginning, instead of letting him control me, letting him break me down, none of this would have happened. Jared would be safe, would be whole and healthy.

The tears came then, hot and fast and blinding. I clutched Jared's hand in mine, pressing desperate kisses to his palm, his wrist, any part of him I could reach.

"Please," I sobbed, my voice raw and broken. "Please, Jared. Don't go. Don't leave me. I love you so much. I can't do this without you."

Time had lost all meaning, all sense of reality narrowing down to the faint, thready pulse beneath my fingers and the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

And then, like a miracle, like a prayer answered, I heard the wail of sirens, the pounding of footsteps on the stairs. The door burst open and suddenly the room was filled with people - paramedics, police, a blur of uniforms and equipment and barked orders.

They pulled me away from Jared, gentle but firm, and I fought them, screaming his name, begging them not to take him from me. But then there were arms around me, familiar and strong, and a voice in my ear, low and soothing.

"Asher, it's okay. It's us. We're here, we've got you."

I turned, burying my face in Dylan's chest as the sobs tore through me, shaking me like a leaf in a storm. He held me tight, rocking me back and forth, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance.

"He's going to be okay, Ash," he said, his own voice thick with tears. "Jared's strong, he's a fighter. He's not going to leave you, not like this."

I watched, numb and detached, as the paramedics loaded Jared onto a stretcher, as they rushed him out of the home and up to the waiting ambulance. Dylan and Mason went with him, promising to stay by his side, to keep me updated.

And then it was just me, alone in the wreckage of my home, with the police and the questions and the cold, creeping realization of what had happened.

I answered their questions mechanically, my voice flat and lifeless as I recounted the events of the night. The officers were kind, sympathetic. They assured me that I had done nothing wrong, that I had acted in self-defense, that Carter would be going away for a long time.

But their words were hollow, meaningless. Because none of it mattered, none of it meant anything, if Jared didn't survive.

And then, just as the officers were finishing up, just as they were preparing to take Carter away, he woke up.

His eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused at first, but then sharpening with a cold, vicious clarity as they landed on me. He struggled against the handcuffs, against the grip of the officers holding him down, his face twisted with hatred and rage.

"You," he snarled, spitting the word like venom. "You think you've won, Asher? You think you're free of me? You'll never be free, you hear me? I own you, I control you. I'm the only one who will ever love you, the only one who will ever understand you."

I straightened my spine, squared my shoulders, and met his gaze head-on, my eyes blazing with a fierce, unshakeable resolve.

"No, Carter," I said, my voice steady and strong. "You don't own me. You never did. You were never in love with me, you were obsessed with controlling me. Your abuse, your cruelty... it was never about love. It was about power, about your own insecurities and your own twisted need to destroy."

I took a step forward, my chin lifted in defiance. "But you lost, Carter. Because Jared's love for me, my love for him... it's stronger than your hatred, your bitterness. And with time, and therapy, and the support of the people who truly care about me, I'll heal. I'll become the person I was always meant to be, the person I was before you came into my life and tried to break me."

Carter's face contorted with fury, with disbelief. "You're nothing without me," he hissed, straining against his bonds. "You're weak, pathetic. You'll never be whole, never be happy. I'll make sure of it."

But I just shook my head, a sad, pitying smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "That's where you're wrong. Because despite all the pain you caused me, all the scars you left, I have something you'll never have. I have true love. The kind of love that heals, that strengthens, that endures."

I swallowed hard, my eyes stinging with tears. "I pity you, Carter. Because you'll never know what it's like to be truly loved, truly cherished. You'll never experience the joy, the warmth, the unshakable sense of belonging that I have with Jared. And for that, more than anything, I feel sorry for you."

Carter's face went white with rage, his eyes bulging in their sockets. "You're dead, Asher," he screamed, his voice high and wild. "You hear me? You're fucking dead! I'll get out of this, and I'll come for you, and I'll make you pay. I'll make you suffer like you've never suffered before."

But his threats, his vitriol, they held no power over me anymore. I watched, calm and unafraid, as the officers dragged him away, as his screams echoed down the hall and faded into silence.

And then, as the door closed behind them, as the quiet settled over the room like a blanket, I felt it. A lightness, a senseof peace, of rightness, that I hadn't felt in longer than I could remember.

I had done it. I had faced my abuser, my tormentor, and I had triumphed. I had looked him in the eye and told him, once and for all, that he had no hold over me, no control over my life or my heart.

The tears came then, but they were tears of relief, of joy, of soul-deep gratitude. I had won. I had survived. And now, with Carter gone and Jared by my side, I was finally free.

I thought back to the person I had been, the scared, lonely man who had been so desperate for love, for acceptance, that he had let himself be consumed by a monster. If I could go back, if I could speak to that lost, broken version of myself, I would tell him that he was stronger than he knew. That he had a light inside him, a goodness and a purity of heart that could never be extinguished, no matter how hard the world tried.

---