Page 115 of From West, With Regret

“My ribs hurt and my head,” he mutters.

I look up at the spot where my hand meets his temple. Blood leaks between my fingertips. “West.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, frantically searching for an ambulance or for anyone who can help.

“I’m okay, Dimples,” he croaks, his voice too light.

He doesn’t look okay.

He slumps forward again, and I catch him a second time, cradling his head against my chest.

Flashing red and blue lights flicker against the front of West’s bar, and relief trickles down my spine. “An ambulance is here, West. Just hang on.”

I wave my free arm frantically in the air, calling them over.

The paramedics rush to the spot where the bus crashed into Heath, but one runs over to me, noticing West slumped against me.

“What’s going on here?” the paramedic asks.

“He has an injury to his head.” I remove my hand and show him the wound. “He’s also complaining about his ribs.”

“Seriously, Dimples,” West breathes, exhausted. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch.”

“Stop, West.” I run my hand along the back of his head. The thought of losing him is unimaginable. I already spent fifteenyears without him.

The paramedic leaves to grab a gurney, pulling it up behind him.

West lifts his gaze long enough to look me in the eye. Fresh tears fall from me as he raises his hand and brushes my cheek. “If you think I’m leaving you now, London, after all this time, you have another thing coming. My love for you is endless, and I won’t let a fucking scratch to the head or bruise to the ribs take me from you.”

I sob harder, his words hitting me.

“I love you.” I lean down and press my lips to his before he’s sitting back onto the gurney.

“I love you, too.” Tilting his head back, he squeezes his eyes shut and grunts in pain, still clutching his side. Then his eyes crack open to find his mother still crumpled on the sidewalk. “Make sure my mom is okay.Please.”

I tremble and suck in a quick breath. “I will, but I’m going with you to the hospital.”

There’s no fucking way I’m leaving West.

“Were you a witness to what happened here?” The paramedic nods his head toward the grisly scene.

“Yes.” My voice is weak and uncertain.

“The police will need a statement from you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but West stops me. “I’ll be okay, London. We’ll find each other afterward. We always do.”

His words hit me like an arrow aimed straight for my heart. “Fine.” I whisper, not arguing.

“I love you.” West kisses the back of my hand before surrendering to allow the paramedics to do their work.

Once they start to wheel West toward the ambulance, I meet Glenna where she is on the pavement.

Julianna and Selene are kneeling beside her, and when they see me, they stand. Glenna looks up with her tear-stained cheeks.

“London,” she sobs.

I kneel beside her and look at her with sympathy. Despite how horrible her son was and the pain he caused not just me, but to everyone around him, I feel for her.

Although I felt the love from my adoptive mother, I never felt this type of love. The kind where they would do absolutely anything for their child. Cut from the same cloth, walking around with the same blood coursing through their veins. The kind of motherly love where they wouldn’t willingly leave this world while their child was still in it.

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